A/N: Arslan's starting to understand his confused feelings. How will he react?
Chapter Six: Dawn
«We can stop here!»
Arslan tugged at his horse's reins and the others did the same. Daryun got slowly closer to the king's stallion, Cyrus and the four noblemen accompanying him stayed respectfully behind the sovereign, while Farangis positioned herself on the limit of the small level ground at which the knights had stopped. From there she could clearly see the four lusitanian soldiers, led by Étoile, arrange themselves in a semi-circle behind the parsian noblemen. The guests exchanged a questioning look, but no one spoke.
The y had had to leave the nice warmth of their beds even before the sun rose, and this time not by order of their commander, but of the king himself. Arslan had wanted to invite them to a lion hunt, "to show them one of the most ancient parsian traditions", a dispatch rider had told them the previous evening.
Malakai did his best to look as rested and awake as possible, and so did Kostàs. Yanis and Thibaut, however, had some more difficulties. During the entire ride they had done nothing but yawn and sigh, wondering so much bound to the parsian aristocratic tradition.
Cyrus stared at them out of the corner of his eye and saw Yanis bending his head, defeated by his sleepiness. The noble counselor mumbled imperceptibly. Why would the king involve those savage lusitanians in a such solemn event?
- The previous evening -
Cyrus had rushed to the king as soon as he had received the message from the dispatch rider. He had crossed running half the Palace, showing up in front of the sovereign with crumple clothes and twisted headgear. Arslan, however, didn't seem to take it into consideration.
«A hunting trip, Sire?»
Arslan smiled. «Exactly. A hunting trip», the young man repeated with conviction.
«But Majesty… I don't understand. Why so suddenly? The Pantheon Celebrations are starting tomorrow and…»
Cyrus raved moving some steps towards the fair wooden desk.
«I just thought it would have been the right moment to resume an ancient tradition of ours. Also, it's the perfect opportunity to show our lusitanian guests some aspects of our culture», Arslan exclaimed. Cyrus' face contracted in a grimace.
«The lusitanians ?», he asked annoyed.
«Yes», the king answered getting up. «Is there a problem?»
The parsian nobleman didn't move and tried to contain his nerves.
«A hunting trip arranged by the king for the members of the Court is highly solemn, ritualistic I would say. It is not an event anyone can take part in…»
«I'm not granting anyone this privilege; Commander Étoile is one of the few people I know I can blindly trust, and I'm sure her men deserve the same faith», the young sovereign said, visibly annoyed by the suspicion with which the counselor kept treating the lusitanian knights.
«I didn't mean to insinuate anything, Majesty. Forgive my so little… confident behavior», Cyrus said hinting a bow.
The conversation didn't last any longer. Cyrus had left the office retiring in his rooms and leaving the young sovereign alone with his thoughts.
The sunrays touched gently the earth. The illuminated dewdrops seemed pearls among the emerald green blades of grass. The light reached the clearing filtered by the tree's fronds which surrounded it. The plain opened among the high grounds north of Ecbatana, not far from the mountainous crests that the dawn was turning grey and blue.
Arslan turned towards the other knights, smiling. He was wearing a leather armor that protected his chest and shoulders. It perfectly suited his body, marking his muscles. The neckline was strengthened by darker leather bands, while on his abdomen was embroidered an eight-pointed star, of a paler color. On his chest other marquetry decorated the armor, spreading from the point where the bands protecting his shoulders joined in the middle of his collarbone. On his bare arms fell elegantly a dark cloak with embroidered rims, fastened by a buckle on his left shoulder. From the belt that encircled his hips hung the shining sword. The king took care to recover every traditional aspect of the events, clothing included.
Even the other participants, both parsians and lusitanians, wore traditional clothes: a dark leather armor decorated by a belt that from their right shoulder reached their left hip, dark pants and capes each one of a different color, fastened by silver cloak pins on their left shoulder. Daryun had chosen a black cloak and armor, as usual, while Farangis was wearing her habitual clothes.
Étoile stood out among all the others. A dark brown leather corset wrapped her bust, marking her thin waist and leaving her arms exposed. A thicker leather band crossed it from her right shoulder to her left hip, where it attached to a belt from which hung a short sword. She was wearing tanned leather boots and fair pants, while on her shoulders was fastened a deep blue cloak, under which, on her hips, could be glimpsed a quiver and a bow. On the rosy skin exposed by the neckline stood out the wooden cross of the Faith of Yaldabaoth from which the young lusitanian never got separated. Her long blonde hair fell on her shoulder tied in a braid.
Arslan stared at her for a few seconds, totally enchanted. He was more and more certain the involving Étoile and her men had been a wonderful idea.
The king unsheathed his sword and gave the silent signal to start the hunt. The knights started moving slowly, in small groups, passing through the trees and shrubs that surrounded the plain. Arslan had reached the northern limit of the ground, Daryun and Farangis had stopped a few dozen meters away. The parsian noblemen were in the middle, in a spot protected by vegetation, while Étoile and her men dispersed in the surrounding area. An hour passed and nothing happened. the sunrays were becoming thicker and brighter. Cyrus spurred his horse and was soon by the king's side.
«Majesty, I'm afraid this is not the right day to…». A threatening roar broke the air. The horses neighed terrified and the knights looked around worried, unsheathed their weapons. Étoile instinctively brought a hand to her bow. Farangis and Daryun got closer to the king by a few meters.
«What was that?», Yanis asked suddenly awake and alert. A rustled shook the leaves of a short line of shrubs to the sovereign's right. Another strong roar and an Asian lion jumped forward giving the impression of coming out of nowhere. The animal placed himself between Cyrus and Arslan. He headed slowly towards the king, showing threatening the sharp fangs and shaking his thick black mane.
In less than a second Daryun launched himself on the attack followed by Farangis, but a lioness with short, fair fur stood in their way, making their horses rear. The parsian noblemen rushed to protect Lord Cyrus, while the lusitanian knights reached Étoile.
«Majesty!», the Knight in Black yelled trying to hold off the lioness with his spear.
Arslan didn't panic. Unsheathed his sword, he was trying to intimidate the anima, using the reflection of the sunrays to dazzle it.
Finally with Farangis' help Daryun managed to prevail over the lioness and rushed at full gallop towards the sovereign. However, after a few meters another lioness stepped on his way, roaring more threatening than the first one.
«Damn it!», the man shouted trying to glimpse Arslan among the short trees. The young king, pushed by the lion, was moving backwards towards a small grove that limited the plain on its northern side. Suddenly he found himself in the shadow, protected from light by a bare rock protrusion. He couldn't count on the reflecting properties of his sword and he understood there was no way to avoid a straight-fight.
The lion jumped forward and Arslan managed to dodge it tugging gat his horse's bridles. He moved by a few meters chased by the lion that was trying to bite his steed's paws. The young man moved backwards but was forced to stop against a rocky wall covered by vegetation.
The lion came forward roaring. There was no way out. The animal was about to jump against the young man, but a few seconds earlier a spear plunged unto the ground between its paws. Malakai appeared from behind a tree whirling his sword in mid-air. Kostàs watched his back. They managed to distance the lion from the king, who finally could separate from the rocky wall. All three of them pointed their swords against the beast, ready to attack, but a cry made them turn around abruptly.
Another lioness had appeared from the thick vegetation placing herself between Étoile and her men. The girl had taken up the bow and nocked an arrow, having the animal in her sights.
«Commander!», Kostàs shouted, ready to reach the young woman. Arslan, however, was faster and spurring his horse he rushed towards the young lusitanian. Malakai yanked Kostàs moving him before the lion they were facing could hurt him with its paw.
«Be careful boy! You don't want to get yourself killed, do you?», the knight reprimanded him. Kostàs unwillingly turned his attention back to the wild animal.
Arslan rode as fast as possible through the trees that appeared here and there in the plain. His ears heard nothing but the lioness' threatening roars, his eyes saw nothing but Étoile in danger. His heart was beating insanely and the few seconds that he needed to reach the girl seemed an eternity.
Étoile shot the arrow, but the lioness dodged it with an agile jump, getting even closer. The young woman immediately nocked another arrow and glanced at Thibaut and Yanis: both were engaged by a forth lioness that had attacked them in the back.
That moment of distraction was enough and Étoile didn't realize the beast was already a few steps from her, ready to maul her.
«Étoile!»
Arslan threw himself against the ferocious animal making it tumble for a few meters. In an instant he was by the young lusitanian's side.
«Étoile, are you alright?», he asked looking at her to make sure she hasn't wounded.
«It's a herd!», she yelled without answering him and pointing the arrow to the lioness who was getting up.
Meanwhile Daryun had managed to win the second lioness and was looking around in search of the sovereign, but the vegetation prevented him from seeing.
Kostàs had managed to hurt the lion and Malakai was keeping it in his sights. Yanis and Thibaut were trying to push the forth lioness against a rocky peak.
Étoile shot and the arrow wounded the beast' s hip. The animal whined and withdrew. The young lusitanian got ready to shout again, but the lioness disappeared into the shrubs with a sudden jump.
«Damn it!», Étoile mumbled riding in pursuit. Arslan followed her immediately.
«Wait Étoile!», the girl didn't seem to stop, actually, she sped up not to lose eye contact with the lioness.
They rode through trees and shrubs, lifting from time to time dust clouds, leaping over fallen trunks and passing over puddles of stagnant water that splashed them up to their faces. They managed to follow the animal for a long stretch, but when vegetation became thicker, the beast managed to hide under the shrubs and continued its run protected by leaves and branches. The two kept riding, led by the swish of the animal on the run, until, suddenly, a vast expanse of grass appeared in front of their eyes, illuminated by the few sunrays that managed to overcome the mountains' light blue peaks and slide into the valley.
They stopped. The lioness had vanished and not even the swishes of the leaves moved at its passage could be heard. A faint mist hovered around the vast meadow that expanded in front of them and faded gradually towards the uplands. A long silver strip went down the highest peak disappearing beyond the trees: probably a water stream.
«We lost it…», Étoile commented with a certain intolerance putting back the bow and the arrows.
«So it seems…», Arslan agreed sheathing his sword. The young woman glanced at him and sighed.
«Well, it wouldn't have happened if you weren't so slow…».
Arslan looked at her astonished.
«Me? Slow? It's the opposite maybe…», he defended himself. Étoile chuckled jeering, staring straight ahead. A few instants passed and neither of them opened their mouths. A light breeze brushed the plain and reached the two young ones ruffling their hair.
Arslan saw the young woman grasp her horse's bridles and turn towards him. She stared into his eyes for a few instants. Arslan looked at her with equal intensity, without really understanding what the girl was about to do.
«If you really are not the slow one…», the commander said tugging at the reins. «Show me…»
Étoile rushed to the valley, riding incredibly fast towards the uplands that crowned the meadow in front of them. For a moment Arslan felt lost, then he understood and spurring his horse he followed the young lusitanian.
The breeze became stronger descending in the valley and incited Étoile to go even faster. In a few seconds Arslan was by her side. The cloaks twirled in the air like bog wings and the wind ruffled their hair.
Étoile sensed a shiver run down her spine. The view, the speed, the wind, everything contributes to give her a feeling of absolute freedom and for a moment she believed she could fly. The regular movements of the ride loosened the ribbon that kept her hair tired. Her long blonde locks soared in the air, free to twirl according to the breeze's caprices. Étoile closed her eyes and spurred again her horse: she had never felt so alive.
Arslan was enchanted. Totally unconcerned about the challenge, he slowed down just to look at her. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He had never seen her so uninhibited letting herself being carried by the wind with such spontaneity.
They unconsciously reached the end of the plain and crossed a small thicket. The sunrays illuminated the undergrowth filtered by the fronds. It was dark and probably riding at full gallop in that mess of shrubs wasn't the wiser decision. Étoile however didn't slow down and continued her crazy running guided by her instinct and by the thrill of the moment. Arslan didn't care where she would have led them: he was willing to follow her anywhere.
They exited the thicket and found themselves on a little hill that lowered gently towards a small lake exactly at the base of the first mountains that shaped a big range that extended as far as one could see.
Étoile stopped on the top of the hill. She waited for a few seconds, then she climbed down slowly. The pool of water was surrounded by trees and rocks, and was filled by the silver stream that descended from the mountain in small waterfalls. The young lusitanian reached one of the nearest trees. Arslan followed her without speaking. Étoile dismounted her horse and tied it to the tree by its bridles. She undid her cloak in one quick move, almost impatient, and she headed towards the small lake. Arslan tied his horse quickly and reached her running.
The girl let the water brush her boots up to her knees. She moved her hair to her shoulder, closed her eyes and used her hands as a bowl to refresh her face. She stretched, opened her eyes again and breathed deeply, staring right in front of her, where the sun was starting to peak out from behind the mountains.
Arslan was by her side, motionless, looking at her. Her hair illuminated by the sun seemed golden, her amber eyes shone like precious stones. Her rosy skin, her cheeks still reddened from the frantic riding, her bare arms, the water drops that slipped from the face to her neck, touching the wooden pendant and the leather corset's rim. Wrapped by the warm morning light she seemed a goddess and even of he had wanted to find a flaw, he wouldn't have been able to.
She was beautiful.
His heart didn't slow its beating and Arslan understood there was no way out. The chaos that ruled his mind became absolute calmness and the young king admitted to himself that Étoile wasn't an ally. She wasn't the other point of view. She wasn't a friend.
Étoile was much, much more.
The girl smiled turning towards him, while her gasping breath slowly went back to normal. Arslan's blue eyes seemed as deep as the ocean and for a moment she thought she was lost in them. The smile on her lips faded slowly. She felt his gaze on her skin, intense and at the same time light as a caress. She allowed herself to get cuddled, regardless of wondering whether it was right or wrong. She liked it, and for the moment this was enough. She liked being looked at in that way. She liked being look at in that way by him. And this could only led her to one conclusion: Arslan fascinated her, he attracted her and awakened feelings that shook her soul. How much and in what way, she couldn't tell.
The king sat distractedly on his throne, Adel's voice reached him feebly and the counselors sitting around the great map of the kingdom of Pars seemed blurred figures that could barely be distinguished from the walls. Elam was at a desk next to the throne and quickly noted down a few words for each speech pronounced by the counselors. Daryun was standing on the other side of the room and looked at the sovereign with concern.
Arslan usually paid attention to every legislative Council's meeting, however the sovereign didn't seem interested in listening to the parsian noblemen's proposal at all. His very posture showed clearly that young man would have preferred to be elsewhere: he was holding listlessly his head with an arm and with one leg crossed over the other, staring blankly at the map unfolded in front of his eyes.
Daryun couldn't understand such behavior. The king had been acting strangely since they had returned from the hunting. They had managed to get better of the herd and they had come back all safe and sound, however, something was unsettling the sovereign. Daryun could clearly see it: his eyes were shining with a different light.
Adel ended his speech and went back to sit at his place. Everyone's eyes focused on the king. The young sovereign didn't move.
«Majesty», Elam shook him. Arslan raised his gaze and only then he seemed to notice he was in the middle of an official meeting with the Council's members. He sat better on the throne and cleared his voice. He glanced at Daryun, the looked at the parsian noblemen's faces, one by one. In their eyes he could clearly read the trepidation with which they were waiting for his speech. The king, however, didn't know what to say. To be sincere, he had no idea what had been said until then.
The events happened a few hours earlier had completely overwhelmed him and everything he could think of was Étoile wrapped in the dawn's sunlight. Anyway, the young king didn't really try that hard to wipe out the image. However, he realized his attention in a such important meeting was more than needed.
He stood up and moved some steps in front of the map, holding his chin, looking thoughtful. He reflected for few instants, then his face lighted up. Here's what he could say.
«I think I know how to solve our problem, at least for the time being», he exclaimed smiling, Elam and Daryun looked at each other skeptically; before a Council meeting the sovereign used to inform them of the proposals he wanted to promote but this time he hadn't spoken with neither of them.
«We'll set a limit to the extension of land each one can own. This way nobody will ever be able to obtain fields and lands beyond measure».
Silence fell upon the room. The counselors looked at each other for a few seconds.
«What do you think of it? Does someone want to intervene?», the sovereign asked. Adel raised his arm and Arslan encouraged him to speak.
«I think it's a wonderful idea, Majesty!», the young counselor began enthusiastic. Other members nodded pleased too. Cyrus barely bent his lips. The apparent calmness of his face was hiding such annoyance he had to clench his fists to control himself. All of this opposed hopelessly his plans.
«As always, excellent proposal, Your Majesty», a man with a thick grey beard commented.
«Thank you. Anyway, the credit is not only mine», Arslan confessed smiling. The counselors looked at each other confused. Elam stopped writing and stared at the sovereign.
«The idea was suggested by Commander Étoile», the young man explained. The smile on the counselors' faces faded instantly. A soft buzz filled the room and Cyrus had to appeal to his whole self-control not to burst out in anger.
Arslan immediately sensed the sudden change in the men's attitude and asked for explanation. Some minutes passed and no one dared to speak. The sovereign then demanded that someone answered his question. A man with thick black eyebrows slowly raised his arm.
«Your Majesty, I'm sure you're aware Commander Étoile is… lusitanian», he said softly.
Arslan furrowed his brow.
«Of course», he answered.
«We're talking about matters strictly bound to Pars, which are shareable only with a limited part of the Court, that is gathered in this Council», another one said. «An external interference is inappropriate».
«I agree», a robust man sitting at Adel's right dared to say. «Letting ourselves be advised by someone else… a lusitanian what's more…»
«Therefore the goodness of a proposal must be evaluated according to the proposer?», the king interrupted him abruptly, visibly annoyed. «You had judged the measure positively; the fact that a lusitanian girl suggested it does by any chance change its substance?»
The counselors fell silent and lowered their gazes. Elam exchanged a worry glance with Daryun. Arslan clenched his fists and breath deeply. He felt like a fire was burning inside his chest. That clear criticism against Étoile and her origins had annoyed him beyond measure and he had to concentrate to calm down.
The room was full of tension and the young sovereign understood there was no way to continue the meeting serenely, so he ended it, whishing his men a good day. He sat on his throne and waited silently for all the counselors to leave the room.
A few minutes later Arslan and Daryun were alone. Elam had left to add to the Palace's the notes of the meeting.
The Black Knight got closer to the throne, looking worried at the king.
«I don't understand», the young sovereign said all of a sudden. «Why such diffidence?»
The two were wrapped by a heavy and oppressive silence that only a few seconds later was shattered by Daryun's words.
«I do understand».
Arslan focused his blue eyes on Daryun's strict face. The parsian general sensed in the king's gaze a mix of wonder and disappointment.
«I mean», he hurried to explain. «I can understand the resistance of some members. That terrible war brought the kingdom to its knees. I think it's comprehensible that the memory of those events brings with it pain and distress. That's why the counselors are reluctant towards everything that reminds them of those horrible years…».
«But now it's over. Everything's over and we can't cling to the past. The future needs to be built with the actions we accomplish in the present…», the king retorted getting up.
«Your words are wise, Majesty», Daryun commented slowly lowering his head. Arslan sighed, then he smiled softly to the Black Knight.
«We'd better go now. The Pantheon Celebrations will start soon».
«Of course, Sire», Daryun agreed following him outside the room and along the corridor.
The Knight didn't go any deeper into the topic. He had seen the counselors' annoyed and skeptical glances and he knew all too well what they meant. The trust that the Royal Court had placed in king Arslan had been shaken for the first time.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please, don't be shy and let me know what you think of this story. It's really important to know what's good and what needs to be improved!
Have a nice day!
-Kiara