Welcome back everyone. After this chapter, the romance story arcs begin. And now, I have another character to make a skin for: Jack. This chapter features a reference to "Promise" by ZexyZek. Enjoy and review.
A Lover and His Lass
"Will you stop carrying me? My injury is in my shoulder not my legs!" groaned Bryan, tired of being carried with Cloten now leading the way on his pig Ymir.
"Relax, my prince!" Cloten kept the carrot above Ymir as he spoke. He was not really paying attention. He was troubled about Bryan's wound. Suppose it should prove fatal.
"I'm not feeling as faint as I did when I was stabbed." Said Bryan. "I can walk." Those carrying him but him down and Bryan took a few steps forward without looking he was about to fall down. Cloten turned Ymir around so he might get a look at his master. "There, you see! How about a song, Cloten?"
"How long a song, Bryan?"
"Long enough for us to have something besides the eerie silence in our ears for when we get back to Yak!" Bryan turned to look at the surprised faces that had just heard the village's name. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I have no idea who came up with the name." Once more turning to Cloten, Bryan gave a smile. "Now about that song!"
"My heart is a dragon but now it is—"
"No!" exclaimed Bryan and the miners in unison.
"What?" asked Cloten.
"Save that for when I am again a captive of an enemy! Not while we are making our way back from some donnybrook!"
"Very well, then. How about the dirge I wrote for your father's funeral?" The look on the faces of those before Cloten only gave him his answer. That was not something they wanted to hear either. "Okay, then. 'A Lover and His Lass?'" They were all in agreement that something happy would be best. "There we go!"
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and ho, and hey nonino,
That oe'er the green cornfield did pass,
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
Cloten did not get much farther as he was soon interrupted by one of the miners. "Would you look at that a lover and his lass right there!" He pointed to a clearing where a boy and a girl did stand.
"You're name, sir?" asked Bryan to the miner.
"Jack, milord."
"No need to call me that, Jack." Said Bryan. "Simply 'Bryan' will do. It doesn't seem like they know we're here."
"What do they look like?" asked Cloten.
"They are both brown haired." Said Jack. "The boy is a bit darker when it comes to the skin and the girl is a bit lighter."
"What color are their eyes?"
"The boy's are brown and the girl's are green…" Jack then realized he was too far away to tell. "Now how should I know from this distance?" Funnily enough, that was the exact eye colors for both.
And then from the brush came a creeper towards the couple. The boy stood in front of the girl with a diamond sword in hand, the girl looking frightened as the beast came closer.
With the protective instincts a leader should have for their subjects Bryan drew his sword, wincing in pain as he did so, and would have rushed out into the clearing had Cloten, Jack and the other miners held him back. He struggled to get out of their grip but he was one and they were five.
"Let me go! I must aid them."
"Hold on, Bryan." Said Cloten. "Let us see what yond lover does to defend his lass."
Bryan did calm himself somewhat but yet there was something that kept him from being completely calm. The creeper. Was Thomas' ascension to the Redstone Throne a sign that all Martin the Great had done to keep his people safe had become undone? Was this creeper just a random one? Or was it one of those that the Order of the Creeper used for weapons?
"Spread out." Whispered Bryan.
"What?" asked Jack, perplexed! "Why?"
"If that's just some random creeper we have nothing to worry about. If that creeper belongs to the Order then surely one of their members isn't far away intending to make sport of these two!" explained Bryan. "Quickly! We must find him before that lover slays that creeper."
"Why?" asked Cloten. "The boy kills the creeper, the anarchist will just leave won't he?"
"I don't know but I'm not going to take that chance." The rightful heir looked back at the scene going on. "Make haste!"
Quickly they all spread out to search for the anarchist. Hopefully, there was just one. A number would mean more of a fight. Thankfully one was just what Bryan found, up on a hill with a bow in hand ready to shoot the boy should he kill the creeper.
"Hold sir!" came a voice as a sword was softly placed against his head. "Your name quickly!"
"My name I withhold." Said the anarchist. It was not Turgot. It was someone else and the Grand Master certainly wouldn't be this far from Creeperstone. "You know doubt know my allegiance, stranger. Give me your name and allegiance."
"Bryan Carthach."
"Well, well… Croi-Dragon. I feel so lucky."
"Don't." Bryan gripped his sword tightly.
"Is that directed to me feeling lucky or loosing an arrow at the boy?"
"Both."
"Why should it matter to you?" asked the anarchist. "If the creeper kills the boy and the girl there is nothing for you be protective over. If the boy kills the creeper and I kill the boy there is a sad, lonely girl who you might 'comfort.'"
"I'd like to find love." Replied Bryan. "But not like that. Not at the expense of a heart being broken! Now, put down the bow or I will kill you."
"You are an enemy of the order, you will kill me anyway."
"The Order of the Creeper is the enemy of anyone who will not let you do as you wish! You have far more enemies than just me!" growled Bryan. "Now, again I say put down the bow or I will kill you."
"Why should I?"
"You mean you don't know?" asked Bryan. "I knocked out Turgot with your order's own banner."
"What?" The anarchist turned his head a bit to look at Croi-Dragon.
"Now that got your attention." Bryan grinned and gripped his sword even more tightly. "Yes, I knocked out Turgot with your own banner. It broke. I don't care but given how you anarchists are it seems you do."
"It is sacrilege for one not of the order to touch the banner! It is even worse for one of you to break it!"
"Why?"
"It starts giving those we prey on ideas."
"What kind of ideas?"
"You know what kind!"
"I do but I want to hear an anarchist say it."
"You will give them the idea of rising up against us! Your father never fought us, he just banished us but you have fought us and one village does not fear us anymore! How long until your entire empire rises against us?"
"My empire? You do not mean Thomas'?"
"Don't you play with me!" exclaimed the anarchist. "We all know who the rightful heir is regardless of Thomas claiming he is the rightful heir because he is named after your grandfather. You are! It is you the populace will rally to against Thomas! It is you the populace will rally to against our order! You are too dangerous to let live!"
Bryan sheathed his sword and gestured for the anarchist to come at him. The anarchist took an arrow and charged only for Bryan to sidestep him and watch as the anarchist fell down the hill and hit a rock face first.
What a way to go!
He was not as terrible as Turgot but yet Bryan had not yet truly fought Turgot for the skirmish they had could truly have been called a fight. Perhaps this anarchist had just been a lesser member. There must have been formidable members.
But such thoughts were for a different time. Turning to look down the hill, Bryan saw the creeper slain and the couple in each other's embrace and about to kiss. With a smile on his face, Bryan placed his right hand over his heart and felt it beat. One day he would find the other half of his heart.