"Move Pages!" Wyldon yelled, his deep voice sending the pages into action. He turned when a messenger called to him from the guard rail. He jogged over, yelling for the pages to keep running.
"Milord, the King requests your presence in his personal office." The messenger bowed and scampered off.
Wyldon began to walk toward the King's chambers a few minutes later, after handing the pages over to the Shang Monkey. He wasn't worried, he was called to the King's office once a week, give or take, for one reason or another. He let his mind wander as he walked the gray halls festooned for Midwinter. He thought of his wife, how he missed her.
Before he knew it, he was walking smack into the King's office door. He heard a deep voice roar with laughter and looked up (he fallen on his butt after running into the door). Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak
Raoul stooped over and offered his hand, laughing all the while, "I never thought I'd see the day! Wyldon of Cavall running into a door. How poised, Good Sir." Raoul chuckled.
"I've seen you run into solid brick walls when reading a report, so don't make fun of me." Wyldon said good-naturally.
"Lords Wyldon and Raoul, the King wishes to speak with you now." The messenger had popped his head out of the door Wyldon had just run into. The messenger bowed and left once Wyldon and Raoul had entered the office.
Jonathon IV sat at his old, but functional, desk shifting through parchments and reports. He looked up at Cavall and Goldenlake over rimmed spectacles, motioning for them to sit.
"As you know, there was a band of hurroks and giants that attacked Bearsford. We sent the Third Company of the Own to eliminate the immortals.
"Third Company requested immediate assistance, as their commander is injured, as is her second, Domitan of Masbolle, who was the one who contacted me. I am sending you two because of your experience with these particular immortals... and because I knew you'd both go anyway once you heard." Jon sighed, they'd left already, racing out his door.
Wyldon ran through the halls, completely oblivious to the people jumping out of his way. He burst into his office, yelling for his squire to help him suit up.
His squire, Laurana of Kennen, coming in through the door to his wife's study, held his mail shirt and coif already. She quickly outfitted him in his armor, not paying any heed to his grumbles to hurry up.
A great banging startled Wyldon. He waddled over over to the door (he'd only gotten his mail leggings halfway up his legs), opening it and revealing a very impatient Raoul and his very scared squire.
"Get your butt moving!" Raoul roared, "My men are out there!" He turned crisply on his heel, stepping aside to reveal Nealan of Queenscove in his signature green-painted armor, green fire sparkling at his finger tips.
"Come on, Milord! I have to be back in 72 hours!" Neal off in the direction of the stables, closely followed by Raoul and his squire.
Wyldon took off after them (holding up his leggings, of course), after grabbing his squire, who had gotten herself suited up.
A short while later, Wyldon, Raoul, and Neal were riding away from Corus with their respective squires. They galloped until Laurana pointed out that they were going to 'kill their horses at this gallop'. They slowed to a trot until the gates of Bearsford came into sight; then they were off galloping once more.
They announced their names to the guard on the wall. The gates creaked open ominously, revealing the rotting carcass of a giant. There were men of the Own wandering around it, trying not to look at it. Raoul spotted a heavily bandaged Dom and called him over.
"What happened here?" Raoul said, worry showing in every line of his face. Dom sighed, and began his story.
"We rode into the town about two days ago when the giants were attacking the town. The hurroks were all dead.
"We fought the two other giants as a company, but the last had gotten into the town. Kel charged it with her lance, and Lerant, my squad, and I followed.
"Milord," he said this to Wyldon "She-she- it fell on her when she killed it. She lost -"
"No!" he scrambled off his horse, but was stopped by Dom.
"Lord Wyldon," he said really slowly, "Kel's alive. You can go see her in the headquarters house."
Wyldon breathed a sigh of relief and ran to the house Dom pointed to. He stepped inside the hut and saw Kel with her back to him, talking to a soldier that he vaguely remembered being named Lerant. He could see the makeshift sling her left arm was in and the way she favored her left leg. Every it of skin on her left side visible was covered with semi-healed bruise. A knot untied in his chest that he didn't know was still there.
"Keladry," he said, his relief evident in his voice.
She turned slowly, painfully, to face him. Her face looked haggard and worn. She smile a tired smile. Her eyes said what her exhausted body couldn't; her relief at seeing him, her pain that didn't seem just physical, her love for him, and just how fragile her hold on her emotions was.
Wyldon walked up and kissed her unbruised right cheek.
"Hey" he said.
"Hey" she replied.
"I know when to take a hint. I'll just go get my arm looked to by whoever the healer is you brought out here, Milord. Kel, thanks for listening." Wyldon and Kel responded by nodding their heads.
"Wyldon," she said, and proceeded to sob into his shirt. He rubbed her right arm awkwardly, making sure not touch to any bruised skin.
Suddenly she straightened up and stopped crying.
"Wow, I didn't know how much I needed that." Kel said. Wyldon's only reply was to chuckle.
"I brought your idiot friend with me." Wyldon said, "Mayhap we should go get you healed a bit more so I can give my wife a proper hug."
Her reply was to gingerly place her left hand on his offered arm,. As they made their way outside she leaned heavily on him for support. Physical or emotional, he didn't know.
He didn't really care. He was just glad to have her back.