"Blood for face, sweat for dirt,
three X's for the stone.
To break this curse, a ritual's due.
I believe I'm not alone."
Chapter 3: Black Riders
Her muscles were aching as she rose from the chair; another night's sleep had been fitful and brief, as she had curled herself into the chair next to her father's bed. Standing she slowly stretched out her muscles and yawned, Gin's eyes felt gritty and sore with the lack of sleep. She rubbed them as she crossed the darkened room to open the curtains. Sliding them apart a few inches, ice blue sky filled her vision, blinking against the assault of piercing light she yawned and stared out across the land. Her father's bedroom was located on the eastern wing, his window facing north - towards the great forests. Above the snow-capped mountains she could see a hazy red glow as the sun struggled to rise and bathe the frozen land with golden light. Not that it would make any difference these days.
Gin'iro turned away from the window, preparing herself for another long day of looking over her shoulder and plastering that fake and painfully happy smile upon her face. She felt so worn out these days, so lethargic, like she was an old woman who had lived a long and trying life. She didn't feel like a young and healthy princess, she felt…used and spent.
Stopping to look at herself in the mirror, she crinkled her nose in disgust. She was not a particularly vain woman although in her position she knew that it was best to be 'presentable' in all circumstances. And she knew that in order for her pull off the lies that she had been spinning she needed to look healthy, needed to convince every one that nothing was wrong within the great country of Hadrian. She wouldn't be able to wander round the castle looking like she did today, as if she'd slept in a heap, which of course she actually had. Leaning closer to the mirror, Gin' pulled at her cheeks, pale lips turning down in disgust. Her normally vibrant eyes were dull, smudged with grey clouds, red veins snaking towards the irises. As she continued to pull and push her cheeks around, the doctor came in.
"Milady, I must insist that you get some rest and eat something. Continuing this way will only make you ill." He spoke over his shoulder; loving hands removed the vials from his bag and placed them in a neat row on the bedside table. The Princess watched him, a slight frown creasing her brow. For fleeting moment doubt seeped into her mind, how did she know that she could trust this man? Her tired eyes suddenly became dark as she watched the doctor remove stoppers from long thin bottles and drip their dark viscous contents into a bowl and stir them with a long silver spoon. The scratching noise grated on her nerves as she watched him ever closer. The small trickle of mistrust was steadily turning into a river that soaked through her. The potions and medicines that he gave to her father, for all she knew they could be making him worse, hell they could have been what started it in the first place. She regarded him carefully, watching the way he encouraged the King to part his lips as he held the cup to him, the medication filling his mouth before he swallowed on a reflex.
Gin' realised that she was being overly paranoid, the Royal Doctor was trusted by her Father, and had cared for all the Royal children when they had been ill. But still she made a mental note to keep an eye on the Doctor, every man had his price she could be sure of that. In the back of her mind, in the shadows where she pushed all her negative thoughts and doubt, she wondered how long it would be till the Doctor was paid his price and betrayed her and the King.
Feeling her eyes bore into his back the doctor turned round, his face showing his surprise at being faced by the glaring Princess and the cold hard look in her eyes. The edges sharpened, purple flashing as she pinned him to the spot.
"Make my father comfortable." Her voice was as icy as the sub-zero weather outside making the doctor nervous. She ignored his repetitive nods as she left the room and slipped into hers unnoticed.
Firmly locking the door behind her she crossed the large lounge and silently walked into the bathroom adjoining her bedroom. Her bare feet whispering across the tiled floor, turning the taps upon the claw-footed bathtub she ran some bath lotion under the steady stream of hot water. Closing the door behind her and locking it, she shed her crumpled silk dress and left it in a heap in the corner. Stepping into the bath she winced as the sensitive skin of her feet came into contact with the hot water.
Sinking deep into the water she leaned back and closed her weary eyes. The relaxing scent of lavender drifted through the steamy room, her breathing deepened as she slipped into a near sleep.
A faint click made her eyes snap open, her body going rigid in the hot water as she slowly sat up. The water slowly rippled around her as she strained to hear even the slightest noise. Holding her breath Gin's eyes darted about the bathroom looking for anything that she could use as a weapon, if she was to be attacked she couldn't imagine a loofa doing much damage.
As silently as she could Gin' stepped out of the bath and wrapped herself in a thick robe. Tip-toeing over to the door, she pressed her ear against the heavy oak door and held her breath, listening intently for the sounds of an intruder in her chambers. Her heart rate picked up and began to pound in her ears as she held her breath. Slowly reaching out for the door knob she picked up a flower filled vase and steeling herself for what was to come, threw open the door and looked about her room wildly.
There was nothing.
Rolling her eyes at herself Gin' let out the breath that she had been holding and firmly locked the bathroom door behind her. Not bothering to get back into the tub she quickly dressed in black trousers, knee-high boots made of stiff leather were pulled over the tight trousers, a warm white cotton shirt was buttoned up to her neck and a knee length heavy suede jacket was worn over the top. The collar was high, and the fitted waist showing off her already trim waist. At the back and front there was a slit in the jacket making the flaps swish against her thighs as she walked.
Gin' pulled her long silver hair back into two separate braids and tossed them over her shoulder. Taking a brief look in the lightly steamed mirror she knew that she didn't resemble a royal daintily swishing through the palace in great folds of rich fabrics. Today she had meetings with the advisors and a long afternoon planned in the library. She knew that the other people that would see her in such a 'risky' outfit would not be too surprised. She knew that when the servants and dignitaries thought she couldn't hear them they whispered about the youngest royal being something of a hoyden.
Leaving her room the Princess nodded to her two guards and allowed one to walk ahead of her and the other behind as she made her way to her father's council room. The walk down the long corridors and up the great flights of marble steps was quiet and pensive for Gin'iro. It had been little over 2 days since she had sent the messenger and the important note. The boy had returned in the late hours of the previous night, he had no news of the General, only that the letter had been delivered and that the General had ordered the boy to return to Hadrian and ensure that the arrival of the Dragonslayers and their General was prepared for. The last statement had made Gin' scowl and mutter a choice phrase under her breath. She had dismissed the boy and made him swear his silence.
Upon reaching the doors of the council chambers Gin' motioned for the guards to take their positions at the door and swung open the doors. A long dark wooden table dominated the large room. Shafts of the morning sun streamed through the larger windows, small particles of dust danced in the light and settled on the clothes and heads of the advisors. There were nine men seated round the table. They rose to their feet and nodded in acknowledgment as she made her way behind their chairs towards the large high-backed seat at the head of the table. The split-miet she sat down the advisors started up on their infernal whining.
"Your Majesty the King is on death's door, very soon he will pass on, and then what? You must prepare yourself and this country for your eventual coronation."
Murmurs of assent followed and the gaggle of men began to chatter, harassing the Princess to secure a marriage to some powerful dignitary.
Gin'iro remained silent; a cold anger seething from her as she sat upright in her chair, her steady gaze running over each man till the flow of comments ebbed to a tense silence.
"Gentlemen," she spoke up her voice controlled and holding an irritated edge to it, "we have much bigger things to worry about rather than my apparent need for a husband. Yes as sad as it is the King is dying, despite all out efforts it will not be long until the King passes on. I will be left as ruler of this country in his place. However whether or not I will marry and have a spring or winter wedding is not the issue at hand. With the absence of such a King as my father, there will be many a person who will see me as unfit to rule. There are times of strife ahead Advisors, mark my words my ascension to the throne will not be met with glad tidings from all. We are under threat, there are people who wish to take over Hadrian and rule her as their own, you must know this." She paused to look at the sombre faces of each man, "But fear not, I have made plans, something that I'm afraid that as of yet I cannot tell you about. You must trust me until the appropriate time arises."
She finished with a note of heavy finality to her tone, the advisors would protest no doubt, demand to know her plans. She would tell them when she felt more confident of the situation herself.
For a bare miet the room was silent, the pompous men gathering their thoughts,
"This is an outrage!…"
"You cannot expect us to just take your word for this Princess…"
"Preposterous I tell you! The day that a mere adolescent girl thinks that she knows best for a country! In my day women knew their place, never spoke out against men and positions were respected."
"Gentlemen let us not debate about the demise of society please. In the end I am the eventual ruler of this Kingdom, you are mere advisors if necessary I will pull rank upon you, either way my plans will remain the same. I will explain all to you when the appropriate time comes."
Ruffled feathers visibly puffed up, the wounded egos of peacocks huffed through the air. Gin' suppressed a small smile at the looks of irritation and bewilderment upon each of the faces of the Royal Advisors.
Rising to her feet she motioned to the doors as they opened, "The meeting is over, council adjourned."
A wounded silence followed at chairs scraped across the wooden floors and the advisors left the room exchanging looks. Gin' didn't doubt that the moment they were alone they'd be complaining about her. She had her reasons for not telling them about her late night request of two days past. She didn't trust the advisors to keep it quiet and still she wasn't sure whether her request would be met.
They had been travelling for near two days now. Dilandau had not allowed his men the luxury of stopping, they were after all the Ryuugekitai of the now fallen Black Dragon Clan, and they were strong men that did not need to rest. On the other hand the elements were against them, a great storm was on its way, and the weather was frigid making the ground solid against the hooves of their mounts. Dilandau hated the rain vehemently and he did not want to stop and wait for it to pass by nor did he want to ride out across the open plains while the heavens pissed down on him.
A curious, niggling part of him wanted to get to the castle soon and find out why a mere slip of a girl had the audacity to demand that assistance of the great General of the Dragonslayers.
A part of Dilandau had been in a constant argument since he had read the letter. Gin'iro hadn't been specific, stating only that there was a position within the Kingdom that he could not refuse. The General was no fool and knew that something was wrong. Princesses did not normally request the presence of Generals such as him, and also Gin' would never want Dilandau anywhere near her home unless she was desperate.
A smirk crossed his face at the thought of royalty practically begging for his help. Yet still something didn't sit right with him. There had been a great many holes in her provided information. And if he were going to take her up on his offer he would have to everything. But more than that, Dilandau's perceptive side knew that in order for a person such as Gin'iro to request him of all people she must indeed be desperate, and he had every sadistic intention of abusing this to its full potential.
The General's men wondered why there were headed in the opposite direction of their current employer, yet none were stupid enough to question the General.
Ever since the arrival of the young messenger boy Dilandau had been preoccupied to the point where Gatti nearly had to gag and bind Chesta to prevent him from actually questioning Dilandau on his present state. Their leader was obviously contemplating something, and the subject of his thoughts was making him even more irritable than ever. Not one of his men wanted to interrupt his thoughts and ask him where they were headed, instead they remained in their saddles and followed the General as he led the way through country that he seemed to be very familiar with.
A little over a costa behind them thunder rolled and the threat of torrential rain hung in the air. A look of pure disgust crossed the albino leader's face as a great drop of rain splattered on the armoured neck of his charger. Others followed the drip in a slow pace that picked up till the rain fell in sheets, all in a split-miet.
Pulling his cloak around him tightly Dilandau pushed his steed into a speedy gallop. As the Dragonslayers and their bloodthirsty leader charged across the sodden fields towards the ever-growing castle of Hadrian the storm followed. High above them thick black clouds rolled across the sky blotting out all light and casting a dark shadow across the land. Lightning exploded in sharp forked slashes illuminating the land briefly in blue.
The storm rolled onwards foretelling the arrival of the Demon General and the Dragonslayers of the Black Dragon Clan.
The figure writhed upon the bed. Her head tossing across the pillow, her dainty hands grasping the sheets in fists as dreams of blood and fire plagued her. An inferno consumed her, sweat beading across her forehead, her legs twitching as she fought to run from the demons. A great fire consumed the seer in her sleep; she was lost in the nightmare. Sweat soaked her body, running down her rigid arms as she thrashed in fear, slick strands of honey-brown hair stuck to her cheeks and neck.
Her mind was fogged with thick black smoke. Faint screams and wails echoed all around her. Something dark and dangerous made the small hairs upon the back of her neck and arms stand on end. Out of a reflex she fought to flee. Years of training, running to clear her head and forget the pain in her heart, pushed her onwards. Her toned legs pumping as she fled through the thick fog, frantically looking over her shoulder as a great black shadow loomed behind her, gaining on her with each explosive heartbeat. The mist closed in on her, swallowing her in its humid embrace. It was gaining on her, oh god! So close to her now.
She ran, her heart slamming against her ribs as she fled for her very life. Her legs thrashed against the bed, her body convulsing as the nightmare gripped her with its reality. A low rumble growled from behind her, a bright light exploded all around her blinding the girl as she threw up her arms to protect herself.
Scalding heat raged around her, an inferno erupted replacing the black with livid red. Upon the bed her body went rigid, mouth open in a silent scream of agony as sheer pain paralysed her body. The fire gripped her, scalding her skin, once lush pink lips cracking as the seer dropped to her knees, powerless to stop the vision that engulfed her. Each image slammed into her with the force of a runway freight train, their clarity marred by a tilting and hazed perspective.
A flash.
Narrow winding stairs leading down to a shadowy cavern lit only by small torches.
A flash.
A dark room with a long wooden table as its centrepiece. Cloaked figures sat around the table, their faces hidden by the cowls of black cloaks.
A flash.
A smaller figure walks in and seats themselves at the head of the table.
A flash.
A rolled parchment appears in their hands. A gloved hand holds a quill as they sign the bottom of the scroll in crimson ink.
An explosion of red light. Scenes of war rushed at her, all around her a battle raged, screams pierced the air, fire charred bodies, men fell and blood soaked her in wave after wave.
A flare of silver broke through the red; a glinting blade flew at her, the sharp edge aimed for her neck in a deadly arc.
Hitomi dug her nails into the mattress, her knuckles turning white from her iron-grip. A shriek bubbled in her throat and ripped forth, a tortured scream erupted as she bolted upright, the vision tossing her from its embrace.
The girl gasped for breath, sweat and tears mingling on her face as she collapsed out of her bed and lay twitching on the cold floor.
Princess Gin'iro spent the rest of the day hidden in the Great Library of the castle. Amongst the numerous rows of leather bound books, the shelves that reached the domed roof and the heavy mahogany tables she stood silently, her mind on tragic things. In front of her a map that showed the borders of her Father's Kingdom was unrolled and held down at the edges by heavy books on warfare.
Hands on hips she tipped her head towards the roof and took a deep breath. Her fluid amethyst eyes took in the great portrait engraved upon the roof. Angels and Cherubs played upon gold-trimmed feather-light fluffy clouds. As she continued to stare she swore she could hear the echoes of heavenly music of the Angels, the sweet sounds of a harp sending shivers down her spine and the tinkling of laughter singing across the heavens.
A sullen squeak of the double doors creaking open made her drop her eyes from the heavens and she turned to her Father's most trusted advisor and friend.
"Ah, Lord Rosuto glad that you could spare the time to join me." She smiled warmly, holding her hand out for him to join her. The middle-aged man returned her smile and took her pale hand in his own, placing a friendly kiss upon her knuckles.
He gestured past her to the piles of scrolls, the bundles of maps, the towers of dusty heavy books and the half melted candle.
"A long night in store Princess?" he asked, walking round her and taking a seat in amongst the materials.
It was only mid-afternoon, yet Gin' had freed up the rest of her day so that she could immerse herself in maps and books in the sanctuary of the Library and prepare for the arrival…
"Princess?" A throaty voice pulled her from the cold that rushed through her veins and the knots that her stomach twisted itself into at her thoughts.
"Sorry Rosuto, my mind was elsewhere, you were saying?"
"Milady I was merely saying that you shouldn't work yourself too hard, your country cannot afford to have an exhausted and spent Princess in its time of strife." His dark eye watched the young royal as her hands clasped over her stomach and stared pensively out the great bay windows that looked out towards the eastern plains. She nodded absently, barely even noticing as the worried advisor took his leave.
With a furrowed brow she crossed the room, her footfalls falling silent on the thick rugs then her boots thudding as she slowly crossed the dark hardwood floors towards the windows.
Resting her forehead against the cool pane of glass she gazed out across her country. Outside it was as pretty as a picture; the day was sunny, clear and cold. The thin layer of frost had melted in the sun, a crisp clear blue sky domed above the land, beyond the armed castle walls she could see people milling about along the streets, plumes of smoke drifted lazily on the slight wind. A small sigh left her lips and misted across the glass, on days like this she wished she were free from the constraints of position, duty and expectations. It was selfish and foolish of her to wish such a thing in the current situation yet her guilt did not quell such thoughts of being out on her stallion galloping through the forests of her land with the cool fresh wind filling her lungs instead of the stuffy dusty air in the library.
Physically shaking herself she turned away from the scene below, her eyes stopping on the dark clouds that crested the horizon. A heavy feeling of dread filled her as she stared at the inky black clouds that swirled above the mountains. Like a premonition of an approaching danger the storm clouds slid across the sky, their path running over the eastern plains and heading directly towards the city.
Gin' returned to the heaped table and immersed herself in maps, trade routes and hefty convoluted books of warfare.
While chewing on a sandwich and trying to decipher the various winding lines upon a map, Gin' was pulled from her analysing by a great crack of thunder.
Her stomach flip-flopped as she rose from the chair and slowly made her way to the window. The great pitch-black storm clouds had rolled on over the city. The thunder boomed almost directly above her and streaks of forked blue lightning exploded across the night's black sky.
Gin'iro was not a superstitious woman but something almost instinctive told her that with the storm something else dark and dangerous was approaching.
She left the window and quickly made her way up back stairs to her chambers. Locking the door behind her she ran through the vast apartment to the large expanse of glass in her private sitting room.
In the dark she leaned against he window and peered out across the front courtyard of the castle and towards the drawbridge.
"What am I doing?!" the anguished wail filled the dark room as Gin' remained pacing in front of the windows.
The decision to bring Dilandau back into her country had not been undertaken lightly. But still she was under a lot of pressure and stress and probably wasn't thinking in a clear-headed manner. But then if she weren't in the current situation she was in she wouldn't need Dilandau's assistance at all.
Gin'iro couldn't believe what she was doing. She was brining a blood thirsty, murdering sadist into her country. Welcoming him, Gods practically begging him to come.
She was no fool, knowing that Dilandau was not going to be controlled, lied to or kept in the dark. And for the most part she had no intention of doing so. In order for her plans to work Dilandau would have to know practically everything she did.
With a resigned sigh that echoed in the room the Princess dropped down into an ornamental chair that faced the great windows. The rain fell in sheets; the glass shaking in its casings as fierce winds battered against the castle, the dark was briefly cut through by flashes of lightning.
The storm raged outside, getting more violent by the passing miets, the wind howled and the rain all but obliterated any length of vision. Sitting tense in her chair Gin' jumped with each noise, her stomach becoming knot upon knot as a feeling of cold dread slowly seeped through her.
Rising from her chair she pressed her forehead to the glass and peered down to the long bridge that met the drawbridge outside the castle. As the flashes of lightning more frequent Gin' spotted a line of horses thundering towards the front of the castle. A militaristic line of men mounted upon black steeds rushed towards the bridge, the closer they got the deep-seated feeling of trepidation built in Gin' till near breaking point. With each flash she put together the picture of soldiers arriving at her home. The bridge lowered and the great stone arch briefly hid the new arrivals. With her hands pressed against the glass Gin' strove to see who it was, lightning erupted in the sky, unnaturally bright light bathed the world for a split-miet, and in that instance Gin'iro saw a flag being held by a mounted soldier. It was the insignia of the Dragonslayers.
The Demon General had arrived.
To be continued…
A/N: Lyrics - Metallica, "FiXXXer". Much gratitude to all the lovely people who have reviewed this and The Wild Rose.
Edited 30/05/04