Queen of Jurai
By: Elizabeth Star
Chapter 1 -- RYOKO
The night of my birth the famed witch Nagi, the meanest woman in all Juri, came to see my father, the King of Hokugan. It was the night of August seventh, unusually cold and blowing a fine icy rain. My father and his drinking companions, such nobles ad petty lords as could leave their lands in the hands of others, sat in the hall before a great log fire while the women attending my mother brought him tidings as the night wore on.
The guard let her in, not knowing who she was. She walk in covered in a dark hood and with a bent frame, taking advantage of my father's well known hospitality. But she would not stay in the kitchen warming herself. She made for the hall and the king. When the guard would have stopped her, she lifted her hood and glared at him. The sight of who she was froze him to the spot, and she past him.
"King Yakage!" she cried, bursting into the room.
My father faced her. He was always the bravest man among brave men. "I am he, witch. State your business and leave. You come at a time of celebration and we would not be interrupted! Know you not my young queen gives birth this night?" His champions cheered him, and he even smiled at the witch. He was the father of five sons of fighting age and the new husband of the loveliest lady in Kujira. He could afford to be magnanimous.
But the witch stared at him, trance like, until the room was quiet and all eyes where on her. "Beware King. Laugh not until the night is over! It is a night of wonders. The gueenstar in the east has fallen in a hail of light. In its place burns a new star of wondrous brightness! The fairest in the heavens! These are the portents of things to come. There is magic in the air this night. In this house!"
He and the other men in the room all worshipped Tokimi at war time and Tsunami in times of peace. Yet he also believed in the ancient gods of the roadways, water, forest, and the high hills, gods who mean worshipped even before the Juraians came. To speak to him of magic was to touch him close to the heart. He was afraid.
"What do you mean in this house? Where in this house?" he demanded, hiding his fear in agree.
the witch grinned, allowing a gleam to enter her eyes. Her voice fell into a low and vibrant monotone, all gather strained to hear her words. "This night shall be born a daughter who shall rule the mightiest in the land." Her words fell on silence. "She will be the fairest in beauty the world had known and the highest lady in all the kingdoms of Jurai. Her name will live on in the minds of men for ages to come. Through her you will reach your glory." Here she paused and passed her tongue over her lips. Some one hand her a cup of sake, and she drank. "But she will bring you pain, King, before ever she bring you joy. Beloved of kings, shall betray a king and be herself betrayed. Hers will be a fate no one will envy. She will be the shadow over the brightest glory of Jurai." Her she stopped and shock herself awake, and doing my father a low curtsy, hurried out the house before any man had the sense to stop her.
The room was once again alive with voices. Each man asked his neighbor what she had meant. Each man thought what the prophecy foretold. All of them took it as wonderful news for my father, except my father. He sat frowning in his chair and repeated over and over "the shadow. Shadow." He used the Kujiran word the witch had spoken kokuei.
Just before dawn the weather broke and the wind softened. It was August the eight, a day sacred to the Goddess, and the queen's labors were over. My father, asleep over his sake like his fellows, awoke with a start of premonition to find his chamberlain trembling at his elbow. He was charged with a dolorous message. The good queen had brought forth a daughter, but had died thereof. With her last breath she kissed me and called me: Ryoko.
My seventh year was my last one at home. It was uncommon in those days for boy and girls of noble birth to spend their youth as pages and ladies~in~waiting in strangers'' castles. Those were troubled times. The land was not in peace, men did not trust one another. The law lay in the strongest sword. Outlaws lived amongst the hills, making travel treacherous. Even warriors undertook journeys only upon necessity, and that almost always meant war.
To tell the truth, there weren't many real palaces in Kujira. Our strongest buildings were the fighting fortress where the king's troops slept on straw strewn over dirt flooring, and the walls of dressed stone were unadorned by the tapestries and weavings that kept the wind and from our cozy rooms at the king's house. Caer Callie, on our northern border, was the biggest fortress in Kujira. It had been built by the Romans and left to decay with the passing of centuries, but it was still use as a fighting fortress and was our strongest defense against the Gordons. With Ginrei, the snow mountain, at the rear and the Western Sea under its guarding easy, it was consider impregnable and was the pride of all Kujira.
Nowadays, every petty king has a wonderful castle of quarried stone and plenty of tapestries and fine silks and cushions and carpets to adorn it, for the land has been at peace for twenty years and we all have had time, blessed time, to devote to the arts of peace. But in my childhood the king's house was a simple enough dwelling. Kujians have a devilish pride, and even the king's house could not outshine his soldiers' homes buy much, else he have trouble on his hands.
My father's house at Reynolds was of wood and wattle, with a large meeting and drinking hall that had a hole cut in the roof to let out the firesmoke. Beautiful hangings adorned the walls, keeping out the winter winds, beneath the fresh rushes on the floor were real Roman tiles. Cracked and faded as they were, the designs were still discernible. I remember a crouching tiger, birds with bright feathers and long necks, and a golden lion, seated and serene, which was just in front of my chair, next to my father on the dais. He kept me by him all the time; I believe he was very lonely. During long audiences and even meetings with his men, I was beside him and amused myself by watching the animals on the floor and imagining that they moved and spoke. The men never bothered about me. They assumed I could understand nothing of their schemes and worries, and I never undeceived them.
Indeed, growing up without a mother has a few definite disadvantages. Instead of spending all my time with the queen's women, learning needlework and the weaving of war cloaks, I was allowed to where I would, with either my nurse Kyoto or some page of the king's companion. I rode everywhere. In my youth cabbits gave me freedom and independence; later the were my comfort and solace. I have taken this to be a sign from Tsunami, that I should live in close harmony with these most honored of creatures. With playful Kujira cabbits as my friends and teachers in childhood, I grew bold and free and as wild they say as any boy. Which is how in the autumn of my seventh year, I caused trouble, lost my best friend, and learned an important lesson about friendship and power.
AN:// I know the chapters are short and I'm working on making them longer. Also I have drifted from my original plot. Now it includes Le Morte de Arthur, and Lancelot of Lanceol. The spelling on those to title is not correct but I can't find my copies. Each story I have used as a background reference for the characters. Please let me know what you think. -- Lizzie
By: Elizabeth Star
Chapter 1 -- RYOKO
The night of my birth the famed witch Nagi, the meanest woman in all Juri, came to see my father, the King of Hokugan. It was the night of August seventh, unusually cold and blowing a fine icy rain. My father and his drinking companions, such nobles ad petty lords as could leave their lands in the hands of others, sat in the hall before a great log fire while the women attending my mother brought him tidings as the night wore on.
The guard let her in, not knowing who she was. She walk in covered in a dark hood and with a bent frame, taking advantage of my father's well known hospitality. But she would not stay in the kitchen warming herself. She made for the hall and the king. When the guard would have stopped her, she lifted her hood and glared at him. The sight of who she was froze him to the spot, and she past him.
"King Yakage!" she cried, bursting into the room.
My father faced her. He was always the bravest man among brave men. "I am he, witch. State your business and leave. You come at a time of celebration and we would not be interrupted! Know you not my young queen gives birth this night?" His champions cheered him, and he even smiled at the witch. He was the father of five sons of fighting age and the new husband of the loveliest lady in Kujira. He could afford to be magnanimous.
But the witch stared at him, trance like, until the room was quiet and all eyes where on her. "Beware King. Laugh not until the night is over! It is a night of wonders. The gueenstar in the east has fallen in a hail of light. In its place burns a new star of wondrous brightness! The fairest in the heavens! These are the portents of things to come. There is magic in the air this night. In this house!"
He and the other men in the room all worshipped Tokimi at war time and Tsunami in times of peace. Yet he also believed in the ancient gods of the roadways, water, forest, and the high hills, gods who mean worshipped even before the Juraians came. To speak to him of magic was to touch him close to the heart. He was afraid.
"What do you mean in this house? Where in this house?" he demanded, hiding his fear in agree.
the witch grinned, allowing a gleam to enter her eyes. Her voice fell into a low and vibrant monotone, all gather strained to hear her words. "This night shall be born a daughter who shall rule the mightiest in the land." Her words fell on silence. "She will be the fairest in beauty the world had known and the highest lady in all the kingdoms of Jurai. Her name will live on in the minds of men for ages to come. Through her you will reach your glory." Here she paused and passed her tongue over her lips. Some one hand her a cup of sake, and she drank. "But she will bring you pain, King, before ever she bring you joy. Beloved of kings, shall betray a king and be herself betrayed. Hers will be a fate no one will envy. She will be the shadow over the brightest glory of Jurai." Her she stopped and shock herself awake, and doing my father a low curtsy, hurried out the house before any man had the sense to stop her.
The room was once again alive with voices. Each man asked his neighbor what she had meant. Each man thought what the prophecy foretold. All of them took it as wonderful news for my father, except my father. He sat frowning in his chair and repeated over and over "the shadow. Shadow." He used the Kujiran word the witch had spoken kokuei.
Just before dawn the weather broke and the wind softened. It was August the eight, a day sacred to the Goddess, and the queen's labors were over. My father, asleep over his sake like his fellows, awoke with a start of premonition to find his chamberlain trembling at his elbow. He was charged with a dolorous message. The good queen had brought forth a daughter, but had died thereof. With her last breath she kissed me and called me: Ryoko.
My seventh year was my last one at home. It was uncommon in those days for boy and girls of noble birth to spend their youth as pages and ladies~in~waiting in strangers'' castles. Those were troubled times. The land was not in peace, men did not trust one another. The law lay in the strongest sword. Outlaws lived amongst the hills, making travel treacherous. Even warriors undertook journeys only upon necessity, and that almost always meant war.
To tell the truth, there weren't many real palaces in Kujira. Our strongest buildings were the fighting fortress where the king's troops slept on straw strewn over dirt flooring, and the walls of dressed stone were unadorned by the tapestries and weavings that kept the wind and from our cozy rooms at the king's house. Caer Callie, on our northern border, was the biggest fortress in Kujira. It had been built by the Romans and left to decay with the passing of centuries, but it was still use as a fighting fortress and was our strongest defense against the Gordons. With Ginrei, the snow mountain, at the rear and the Western Sea under its guarding easy, it was consider impregnable and was the pride of all Kujira.
Nowadays, every petty king has a wonderful castle of quarried stone and plenty of tapestries and fine silks and cushions and carpets to adorn it, for the land has been at peace for twenty years and we all have had time, blessed time, to devote to the arts of peace. But in my childhood the king's house was a simple enough dwelling. Kujians have a devilish pride, and even the king's house could not outshine his soldiers' homes buy much, else he have trouble on his hands.
My father's house at Reynolds was of wood and wattle, with a large meeting and drinking hall that had a hole cut in the roof to let out the firesmoke. Beautiful hangings adorned the walls, keeping out the winter winds, beneath the fresh rushes on the floor were real Roman tiles. Cracked and faded as they were, the designs were still discernible. I remember a crouching tiger, birds with bright feathers and long necks, and a golden lion, seated and serene, which was just in front of my chair, next to my father on the dais. He kept me by him all the time; I believe he was very lonely. During long audiences and even meetings with his men, I was beside him and amused myself by watching the animals on the floor and imagining that they moved and spoke. The men never bothered about me. They assumed I could understand nothing of their schemes and worries, and I never undeceived them.
Indeed, growing up without a mother has a few definite disadvantages. Instead of spending all my time with the queen's women, learning needlework and the weaving of war cloaks, I was allowed to where I would, with either my nurse Kyoto or some page of the king's companion. I rode everywhere. In my youth cabbits gave me freedom and independence; later the were my comfort and solace. I have taken this to be a sign from Tsunami, that I should live in close harmony with these most honored of creatures. With playful Kujira cabbits as my friends and teachers in childhood, I grew bold and free and as wild they say as any boy. Which is how in the autumn of my seventh year, I caused trouble, lost my best friend, and learned an important lesson about friendship and power.
AN:// I know the chapters are short and I'm working on making them longer. Also I have drifted from my original plot. Now it includes Le Morte de Arthur, and Lancelot of Lanceol. The spelling on those to title is not correct but I can't find my copies. Each story I have used as a background reference for the characters. Please let me know what you think. -- Lizzie