“Some books are to be
tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few are to be chewed and digested.”
- Francis
Bacon
The
Hunt
“……and as usual, they lived happily ever
after”
Bryson closed the book and sat it on
the table beside his son Luke’s bed as he stood, turning to pull the covers up
a little farther. He smiled as the boy rolled over to his side being asleep for
last three or four pages but he kept reading anyways. They both felt the
absence of Lily each time she had to leave just as if it were the first time.
The king called her away on almost every hunt now that he had heard her voice.
It was, no doubt, a beautiful voice but Bryson hated that she had to leave just
so the king could have another voice to read or sing to him. He blew out the
stub of a candle he had left in Luke’s window sill before walking out of the
boy’s room as quietly as he could. The age of seven was no time to be going
without a mother for any time, even if it was only for a week.
Alone and quiet once again as Bryson
sat at the dinner table filling up a glass of wine to watch the rain come down
through the window over looking Skully’s Fallthrough. Named for the drunkards
and street walkers that frequented the small ally way, seeking shelter from the
weather or a cheap room for the night, saying nothing of the conditions of the
rooms, Skully’s wreaked of sweat, ale and any other foul aroma you could think
of. Word had been said it was to be one of the nastiest holes in all of Valencia
Bryson tipped the glass back kissing
his fingers and holding them out into the cold night air as he did every night she
had gone. The king had started taking her and a few other servants from the
castle on his week long hunts to ply food and put up tents, carry game and the
sort of work men of his blue blooded lineage shouldn’t bother with, like it
would hurt them anyhow. He pulled the shirt off his back and unhooked the belt
he had been wearing all day as he swung and beat the hammer of his trade.
Swords, axes and spear tips were his goal today and many more to come. The
castle had sent in a giant order of new weapons for the castle guard just
before the king had left for his hunt. That was just before Lily had left as
well. He sat on the bed pulling off one then the other boot as he himself began
to hum one of her favorite tunes. She had been gone for 2 days now and only 5
more to go. He lay back on the bed, pushing open the window that faced out over
the wall and towards the flat lands the finished off the base of Forefather Mountain
His rolled to his
side as the sun threw its first rays through Bryson window. He’d had the dream
again. Lily had walked into his dream through the black curtains of night
covered from her neck to her feet in a red satin gown. Her long black hair was
shining in the moon light and her pale skin stood out as if she were a flame in
a pitch black room.
“How
was your day my love?” She asked him. As if she had never had another
question in her mind. As if, she had been standing in the doorway waiting for
him to climb the steps from a day at the shop.
“Horrible
without you darling, but it’s getting better every minute” He smiled as he
topped the steps leaning in to kiss her cheek as he placed a hand on the small
of her back. She smelled of lilac and the house smelled of freshly baked bread.
Bryson ran his hand through her silky black hair watching it sparkle in the
moonlight and smiled.
He sat up, running a hand through
his shortly cropped hair. The mornings without her were just as bad as the
nights. He stood pulling back on his trousers and dropped back to the bed with
a thud letting out a large groan as he leaned forward to pull his boots back
on.
“Three days down, and four to go.”
Bryson
checked in Luke’s room on his way out the door. Empty. That was a good sign. He
had been trying to find a way for his son to stay out of the streets since the
other children had started pushing him around. He had gotten his black hair and
fair complexion from his mother. Sadly, he had gotten his hot temper and
willingness to solve his problems my force from his father. He was frequently
teased and laughed at by the older children for being smaller, although they
seldom came close enough to lay hands on him. They all knew what a temper he
had and how quick he was to fight back. His name was well known throughout the
children in the streets from the number of other bullies that had tried and
failed at wrestling him to the ground but ended up in the healer’s hands
instead of their parents. His father taught him to protect himself after two
bullies had handled him resulting in a broken arm and a whipping that left more
than just scars on his back. Since then he had shied away from most other kids
and lashed out at the ones that didn’t take the hint. Lily frowned on the idea
of Luke fighting and was furious when she found out Bryson had showed him a
thing or two from when he was a kid. Bryson would always try to hide the result
of a fight or cover up anything that had to do with his son being
confrontational as long as Luke had been in the right to begin with.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The king’s bellow of a laugh could
be heard all over the forest as the entertainment came close to an end on the
third night of the hunt. The children had been doing acrobatics, dancing, rope
climbing and, the kings’ favorite, magic tricks and illusions for nearly three
hours now. They had nearly exhausted their list of skills and other things they
had prepared for the week long hunt and nightly feast while the camp had been
set up. There were adult dancers and fire breathers but the king loved children
and always picked them to entertain first as he knew they usually tired of
showing off and turned in early. As the children ran off into their make shift
tents and cots to whisper and converse about who had made the most coins the
men left sitting up who were sober enough to notice began seeing the women
sneaking through the small crowd smiling and winking as the dancers they were
known to be began to weave their magic.
One in particular, by the name of
Hercine, was doing her best to attract the attention of the king. Once a whore
turned dancing minstrel for the king for her beautiful body and her soft appearance,
had slowly began working her own magic to gain favor with him for her own
personal gain. She had planned to work her way close to him and somehow have
him take her to bed to conceive an heir to the throne. She had even sent word
to Freyzia, Witch Queen of the Borderlands, to help her in her attempt at
gaining power for a small price. Freyzia had accepted the offer and sent back
to her an elven amulet to help the aspiring future queen to conceive a child
but only that. Worn during the act of passion and the deed would be done.
Wearing little else other than the
amulet and thin sheer fabric barley covering what the mind could make up she
weaved and crawled her way towards the king as he sat talking about the
children and how wonderful they were at their games. She hated those kids. They
had ruined her attempts the two previous nights and she wasn’t about to let it
happen again. She slithered up to the fat round man sliding her way between his
legs as he was just taking another drink from his glass. Perfect. The man stunk
of wine and sweat. His hands were filthy with grease and other tidbits of meat
he had just finished eating but she wouldn’t let that stop her. She was finally
in the position to set her game in motion. Now if only she could bait the hook.
He wriggled and wound her way around his neck whispering the entire time the
words she had practiced over and over for this night. They would work she knew
they would. She’d tried them out on other just to make sure. There was no
resisting the promises she was making and knew this man would follow her
anywhere now that she had began spilling her venomous voice in his ear. He
nodded as she turned sitting up on his lap as if she were asking a father for a
toy. Maybe in a way, that’s exactly what she was doing.
Standing, he bid them all a good
night and retired with his prize for the night to his luxurious tent of rugs
and furs and a kingly cot built specially for his round and rather large build.
The night was smotheringly hot and inside the tent it was much worse. The
morning after she was more than willing to step out and get some much needed
fresh air. The king stepped out behind her and, as she expected a kiss of a
grab of the rear, instead he simply stepped around her and continued on to the
guards and horses that were awaiting him for the hunt.
To her dismay, the king had no more
feelings for her before as he did after and quickly sent her out the forth
night of the hunt asking for Lily instead to read his some stories from the
books she had brought. He loved her voice, as did everyone in the camp, other
than Hircine. They all spoke of her singing and of her voice with admiration,
saying that it bordered on angelic and that no other in the kingdom could
compare.
Afterwards, when the stories were
told and the books had all closed he begged her for another. As a child would
do his parents. Holding up her hands with the only three brooks she had bought
with her and gave a sad smile.
“I’m
all out of books and stories your highness.”
Blushing as always,
she bowed and thanked him for calling on her and his company. As she backed
away slowly with well practiced steps, as to not offend him, she paused. There
were whispers coming from behind the tent a silhouette of two figures standing
behind the king. Not at all out of the ordinary were the figures, on the
contrary, it was quit common to hear all sorts of noises big and small, from
laughing to horses. But the figures struck her as odd being fully geared and
armed in the twilight hour of night.
“My
King, may I take my leave?” Never taking her eyes off the dark figures
displayed on the tent wall behind him.
The king took notice of her gaze and
expression but knew nothing of the foreboding feeling she was having and only
smiled.
“Why
of course Lily. Although, meeting someone this late and in this area could
cause a bit of gossip. Especially, for a happily
married woman, such as yourself.”
The exaggeration in his voice was
always apparent. He often said such things to act as bait to draw her into
another conversation where he could spend more time with her. Left hanging in
the air or on the tip of his tongue such as a trapper would leave bait for his
prize. Hoping to snare the game he so desperately wanted.
“Oh
your highness, never will be the day that my beloved Bryson will be old news in
my mind. He will forever be my……..”
The sound of fabric ripping and an
impact wet with blood stilled her tongue as she watched the king’s eyes grow
wide with surprise. Or was it fear? Suddenly the sound in the camp died away
and just as quickly the sound of swords and shields clashing together could be
heard over everything else as the king crouched forward onto a knee holding
himself up with a shaky hand.
An arrow to the back was the almost
soundless attack that had felled the mighty king. His breathing had already
grown labored and sounded as if it had possibly struck a lung. He stretched the
right hand out towards her as she took his head in her lap sitting quickly to
hold him as fear racked her body. Men were running to and fro all around the
tent with buckets of water. The smell of smoke and the screams in the night
were quickly overpowering her senses. She tried to with no avail to stop her
shaking and to calm herself so she could help the dying kind that lay wide eyed
in her arms.
What was she to do? She had never
been trained as a healer nor did she wish to be. This was no scrap on the knee
or bruise on the head. She wasn’t even sure where the two healers’ tents were
set up in the camp. Valiona and Felix. That was their names. Felix was more of
an herbalist that a healer but he had helped when on of the men had twisted an
ankle or had trouble digesting this food or that. She laid the kings head
gently onto a pillow from his cot and bolted from the tent towards a section of
the camp where she had seen a bandaged up guard sitting outside a tent the day
before.
She pulled up sharply throwing her
arm over her eyes as she saw the same man laying face down beside another of
the guards and a slim man dressed in all black. All were laying a pool of
blood, one with his throat cut and the other two from large gashes to the
stomach and head. Inside wasn’t any better. Valiona lay dead, draped over a
wooden chest like a discarded fabric with two knives sticking out of her back.
The other guards that were inside the tent also had their throats cut but the
murder must have gone for more blood. Lily looked around sobbing. She had never
seen so much blood. As she closed her eyes trying not to see the bodies anymore
the vision burned itself into her brain. She opened them turning to leave the
tent and return to the fallen king but as she turned he caught a movement
behind a large stack of boxes to the rear of the tent.
Felix’s head popped out of the side
from behind them looking around like a scared little child. Without hesitation
Lily took two steps back and grabbed his hand pulling him along behind her as
fast as she could manage.
“The
king’s been hit! He’s dying, you’ve got to help him!”
Felix pulled back,
trying to release himself from the woman’s’ grasp but it did him no good.
Lily’s grip was that of terror and it wasn’t letting go of the kings’ only
hope.
“I’m
no healer. I’m just an herbalist. I know nothing of war wounds. You must let me
go!”
Felix stumbled on behind Lily trying
to think of everything he had learned by watching Valiona but nothing was
coming to mind. He mind was in a panic. The only thing keeping him alive was
ducking and dodging behind Lily from arrows, bodies, and flying debris. They
made their way through the camp barely avoiding two large, angry looking men in
black clothing before turning on final time towards the kings’ tent. As they
rounded that last turn, however, Lily sprang headlong in a group of black clad
assassins that had already finished off the king before there was any chance of
saving him. She tried to take a step back instinctively but Felix blocked her
way as he ran into her as well.
The men were nasty and were less
groomed than a stray dog in winter time. The closest one was a giant of a man armed
to the teeth with daggers, a sword, crossbow and a smile of victory revealing
yellowing teeth from tobacco, poor hygiene and who knows what else.
Without a second thought the man
rounded on her driving an elbow square into her lower jaw sending her flailing
in the blood and muddy water at their feet. Another man, his hair resembled a
brown bushing shooting straight out in all direction, made a large clean swipe
at Felix, splitting from shoulder to hip in that one single blow. Felix dropped
like a stone on top of Lily as she struggled to stay conscious, pinning her to
the ground.
Her vision began to blur and it
seemed as if she were looking at the world through a dark tunnel. Her ears were
ringing and her head felt like it was spinning over and over in a barrel of
water, which stifled almost all noise from the outside world. She thought she
was going to be sick. She heard the faint sound of a female voice, familiar and
not at all friendly.
“Lay
her in there with the king. Give her the poison and let her rot away watching
his blood cover the floor. Imagine. Wanting a trashy tramp like that over me.
Well, he can have her in death for all I care. Lady take you, filthy whore”
She sent a boot to the back of
Lily’s head and the pain pulled a low moan from her lungs. There wasn’t much
else she could do with her jaw unhinged and oddly hanging to the left the way
it was.
“My
lady, that was not the orders handed down to me from Lady Freyzia. Her orders were to
take the king to her as proof. She will not be pleased that we’ve
disobeyed direct orders.”
“Take
his crown and signet ring then you stupid fool. Do as I say or you won’t make
it back to Freyzia at all”
Panic began to fill
her lungs and her mind raced trying to find a way out of death’s grasp. She was
going to die out here. As the world began to fold in around her and blackness
began to take over she dug her nails as deep as she could into the forest
floor. Dirt and blood were all she could feel instead of the touch of warm skin
and a loving family. This was not a suitable trade.
Keep it goin' Wes. Your pacing is good and it keeps the reader moving.
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