Hello! First (uploaded) King Arthur fic, to be followed by a few others within the course of the next hour I expect...
Just to say: Honoria is pronounced On-OR-ria in case you were wondering.
Chapter 1: A Good Roman Girl
Every good Roman girl should know how to play the harp. Mother always told me that. I play to her memory, and someday hope to have a family like she did. I am her clone in many aspects. I share her long, deep red hair that is wavy and impossible to tame back completely. I wear it how she always did; in a loose ponytail at the base of my neck, tying it in again further down. It reaches my waist like this, until eventually I had to tie it a third time. I wear my Roman dress with pride, and never shy away from who I am.
They say my mother was not a Roman woman when father married her, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm Roman and so was she. She became a Roman through marrying him.
'Lady Honoria. You are called for.' Marcus Tullius, a centurion in my father's regiment, said to me, and I ceased my playing.
'Then I will go. Is it my father who calls?' I asked softly as I set my harp back and rose to follow him.
'No.' Marcus said shortly, and I frowned lightly, but stopped when I remembered how my mother had said such an expression did not become me.
'Bishop Priyas. An honour, my Lord.' I said, kneeling on one knee, such was the nature of my status, and a hand placed itself on the crown of my head.
'Rise, child. I have grave news.' He looked round to his men, and Marcus, who hovered by the door.
'Leave us, I must speak with the Lady in private.' Slowly but surely, they did so, all the while a feeling of foreboding rising in my heart.
'What is it, what has happened?' I asked quickly. Formalities were for others; Priyas had known both my father and my mother many years and had been a prominent figure in my life.
'Your father was killed last night. Assassinated.'
My whole body numbed. Even though my father, in recent years, had become distanced to me, the smiling face from my childhood suddenly appeared before my eyes. 'Honoria you do not realise what danger this places you in.'
'Me? Why would I be in danger?'
'Now that your father is gone there is no one who can protect you from the brunt of the Romans, and as you are not married...'
'Then I will marry.'
'It is not that simple Honoria.'
'I refuse to see how this changes my position I am a Lady of Rome.' I said loudly, standing up, and Priyas pulled me back into my seat.
'Without a soul to prove you such in a losing country. Britain will soon be left to fend for itself, the Romans are retreating and now that your father is gone I cannot guarantee they will take you with them.'
'Then what is the point of you talking to me now if you say I have no options!'
'I am saving you too from being murdered like your father or being left at the mercy of the soldiers. If you had a brother then maybe things would be different-'
'So this befalls me only as a woman?' I demanded angrily.
'No, but if you were a boy or had a brother he could fight for your honour!'
'I refuse this discrimination!'
'Honoria no one chooses discrimination it is something we are thrust into.'
'This is ridiculous, what options do I have then?' I asked brusquely, forgetting every manner ever taught to me.
'You can go into hiding. Make your way as a British citizen, you still have you inheritance, if you sell it all and run with the money-'
'They will suspect something if I start to sell everything-'
'Not if you say it is for when you leave for Rome.'
'And who's to say I will even live to sell it all?'
'You will sleep in another room, protected.'
'So I am left with no choice I see.'
Priyas sighed and nodded gravely. 'I am sorry for this to happen to you of all people Honoria, you have always been good and kind.'
'I will avenge my father's death, have no fear.'
'Honoria that is no job for a woman-'
'Which you have made clear.' I said coldly. 'But someone has thought this eventuality through. And I will kill them as mercilessly as they killed him and my life as I know it. They would have me dead in an instant too Priyas, we both know that.'
Priyas sighed. 'I can only hope the Lord will guide you to reason. Farewell, Honoria.'
'Thank you Priyas. You have been a good friend to my father and a protector of my home. May God go with you.'
'And with you.' He said gravely, before leaving the room. Only then did I sit down, legs shaking.
I don't know how I survived those three nights it took for everything to be achieved. I barely slept, on edge constantly, waking at the smallest noise or drunken shout that before wouldn't have even stirred me.
With my purse full of coins, sewn into the lining of my stolen skirt, I made my way down to the servants bathroom. I was earlier even than them. I began by taking a knife and cutting my hair to the middle of my back, discarding the hair in one of the freshly prepared straw mattresses. I took the bag of henna powder I had traded for secretly through one of my trusted servants, and mixed it with some water to make a thick, nasty-smelling paste, which I spread onto my hair. I worked it well into every red strand, determined to cover the so significant colour my hair had to it that would surely mark me out in an instant.
After a while I washed it out, and saw in the reflection of the water that it had all turned dark now. I took advantage of it being wet to twist it back in a simple style, allowing the short black length to fall forwards out of my hood. Kneeling on the floor, I dirtied my face, neck, arms and nails, sure to make sure nothing would give me away.
I picked up my bag and went through to the stables, finding my horse Ana. I saddled her up with only the simplest riding tack I could find, and I kicked her on. Leaving the town as confidently as I could, but at the same time with the air of a servant.
My position wasn't questioned and I waited for the shouts to start, calling me back, causing me to flee. But there were no shouts, although I winced at any raised voices nearby, relaxing a small amount when I realised they weren't calling to me. I resisted my fractured nerves and the temptation to break into a gallop and put as much distance between me and the town I had once loved.
Review my lovelies, and the story shall continue. Trust me there's plenty more, you know what you have to do...
Miss Paparella xx
