I'm so sorry for the long wait between chapters. At least this chapter is a
little longer and has some action. Once again, the location and some of the
characters belong to Tamora Pierce, long may she live and write.
A few nights later Stella and Lord Lucas were passing through small village near nightfall. Stella spotted and inn, and, after a moment's consideration of her wish for a bath and the coins in her pocket, she nudged Pinecone towards it. Despite the fact that there was something uneasy, something wrong and anxious about all the people in the village, she didn't really want to leave it. At the palace there had always been people about and she had been feeling isolated and lonely seeing only a few people-one of them being Lord Lucas-each day.
Lord Lucas took one look at the inn and began making rude remarks about "inferior accommodations". Stella kindly offered to let him share a stall with Pinecone or Mouse. For whatever reason, this offer was not well received; his reaction could have been worse however-Stella was beginning to believe that there might be a semi-decent human being buried-very, very, very, deeply-under all his layers of arrogance. Some small part of him seemed to appreciate the fact that there would be less work tonight.
She decided to care for the mounts herself just in case there was a description of Pinecone floating about. Then she tipped the stable boy what she hoped was enough to keep him from wondering why a teenage girl and a well-dressed little boy were traveling alone together, but hopefully not enough to make him question where her money came from. She noticed that a short, plump and brown-haired man appeared to be watching her and she hurried Lord Lucas into the dining room.
After arranging for a small room for the night with the innkeeper Stella treated Lord Lucas to a hot meal. There was roast chicken and cooked carrots (Stella's superior will power won out, and Lord Lucas had to eat his) and boiled potatoes. For dessert there were baked apples with cream. Stella found it wonderfully relaxing simply to sit and wait for the food to come to her, rather than having to worry about setting up a campsite and cooking and cleaning up. She slumped back in her chair and stared with childlike tiredness at the candle-lit room around her. There was, however, a tension in the room as there had been in the village. It was hard to place, almost intangible, but it manifested itself in tiny human details. Children of seven or eight, who should have been well past clinging to their mothers, were seated in parents' laps, more husbands had their arms around their wives, and there was urgent whispering between acquaintances. There laughter was a hair forced and nervous. And there were murmurings, mutterings about darkness, magic, mages, sorcery, and fear.
Her eyes happened to fall on the brown -haired man; he was watching her again, looking her up and down and eyeing her money sack. His eyes were shifty, his appearance untrustworthy. Her one consolation about this was that he probably wasn't employed by the King's Own. He looked more like a highwayman or robber.
"Come on," she hissed sharply to Lucas. "Let's go to our room." She hastily slammed a few coins onto the tables and then tugged him towards the stairs. He sensed her urgency and for once didn't argue. There was something that really frightened her about that stranger.
Once they had located and opened their room, a clean and well ordered place, Stella rung for the maid. She was red-headed and plump, with laughing eyes and perfectly shaped ears. She brought up hot water and soap for a bath in moments and didn't give voice to the questions that Stella could see in her gaze. Surprisingly, Lord Lucas plunged right into his bath without the long argument which Stella had been prepared. He only put in a reasonable request that she turn her back. Stella gathered from this that, allow he didn't like to eat vegetables, he did like to be clean, which was something. She put him into bed behind a screen and took her own bath, the warm water relaxing both muscles and mind.
The maid reappeared and offered to clean her clothes. Stella gratefully thrust a piles of dirty garments into her basket.
"By the way," the girl hissed in her ear as Stella leaned close, "there's a man downstairs asking questions about you. Thought you would like to know."
"Thank you! But why are you telling be."
The maid gave her a long look. "I know it be wrong to judge a book by its cover, but he looks more likely to run off without paying than you do." Then she turned quickly and left the room without another word.
A feeling of unease rose again within Stella and she quickly checked to see that all their belongings were gathered up so that they would be easy to grab in a hurry. She checked on Lord Lucas. He was sleeping soundly, not looking anywhere near angelic, but then, he didn't look devilish either. It's probably nothing, she told herself. With a sigh she flopped onto her bed and pulled the covers up.
She had trouble sleeping though. After all her nights outdoors she felt penned up and trapped inside the inn; it did no good to try to rationalize with her mind, she continued she fear the walls around her. There were noises below too, for the common room was far from empty despite the subdued appearance of the crowd at dinner. People were frightened but not terrified. So why couldn't she get her heart to stop hammering? Was it the man who had been watching her? She had no reason to fear him. Eyes couldn't harm and as for his intentions she should be prepared, as long as he hadn't been sent to bring her home, which she doubted. She stared up and the beams of the ceiling above her, and fell into a thoughtless half-doze.
Suddenly she sat bolt upright, feeling and echoing Pinecone's panic. There was something wrong in his stall, something that shouldn't be there. Quickly she tossed the covers off her bony knees and through on some spare clothing. She grabbed the knife that fury had slipped into her hand little more than a week before. Her hand was sweating and the wooden handle seemed treacherous in her grip. She paused at the door to glance back at the imperious young lord. He looked even uglier in his sleep but he was snoring peacefully.
No one seemed to notice her as she crept hurriedly downstairs and out the door. She broke into a run as she approached the stables. She flung open the door; saw a light flickering at Pinecone's stall. She sprang forwards, fear filling her steps.
Pinecone kicked out and a dark figured staggered backwards, doubled over. She saw a knife glinting in the flickering light. Stella screamed and rushed towards Pinecone. He was terribly frightened and defiant. All to quickly, she found herself standing between Pinecone and the man with the knife; she had a knife but she also knew that even if she were capable of attacking a person-which at least point seemed likely because he was attacking Pinecone-her opponent would probably have considerably more experience than she did at knife fighting. Stella wondered yet again about her suicidal inclinations as she raised the knife.
He slashed as her with the knife but she brought her knife of to defend herself, miraculously managing to avoid decapitation. He made a quick darting motion, almost too quick to be humanly possible, and sliced a cut across the knuckles of her knife hand. Stella screamed and tried to knock his knife out of his grip but she was too slow. They jabbed at each other for a few minutes while Stella's grip on the knife loosened, she was bleeding and the blood made everything slippery. Then she over-swung and knocked away the lantern.
Sparks flew everywhere and smoke began pouring from a beam. It was darker now, the fire the lantern had started was small for the moment. Stella had the uncanny sensation of realizing her opponent could see well in the dark. Suddenly he grabbed her wrist as though he meant to fling her away. Instead of striking at him with the knife, she turned and pushed his arm backwards flinging him to an imaginary spot below his center of gravity. She was amazed at her instinct; she had practiced the trick the Riders had taught her much, but it had been effective.
Without meaning to, Stella had flung him down just in front of Mouse. Mouse, being the sweet tempered pony that she was, promptly stepped on his shoulders, effectively trapping him. Stella knelt down, putting a knee on his chest and held her knife to his neck.
"What are you doing?" she yelled.
He didn't answer her. She realized that he had no color around his pupils; his eyes were like black holes. He opened his mouth, and his teeth suddenly became pointy. Stella gasped in alarm. He hissed sharply at her and vanished in a flash of silver light.
Stella's knee hit the floor with a painful thud. She looked up and Mouse, who looked as startled as Stella felt. Pinecone too was out of sorts.
"Horse lords protect me," she murmured to herself. She felt very unprotected at the moment. The slowly spreading fire caught her attention, and she hobbled over to beat it out with a saddle blanket. Somehow the fire seemed sluggish and unlikely to damage anything.
She couldn't stop shaking. She knew the image of that almost human face with fangs would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. It was wrong; no man should look that way. She stumbled over to Pinecone and wrapped her arms around his strong neck. She found herself crying and holding his mane. Then she backed away and met his eyes.
It's alright, he told her, he's gone. He leaned his head forwards to smell her and drooled on her arm. And it was horse drool that let her know her world still existed.
Quote: "Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten or the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?" -Macbeth Act 1. Scene 2
The quote fits, don't you think? Again, I'm sorry about the long wait between chapters. Why am I taking so many honors classes? By the way, if you want to know what's going on back at the castle, read The Daughter of Two Kings and add in a very distraught Stephen and Luke, my friend and are trying to link are stories together (note the obscure references to mages and darkness). Thank you for reading and please review.
A few nights later Stella and Lord Lucas were passing through small village near nightfall. Stella spotted and inn, and, after a moment's consideration of her wish for a bath and the coins in her pocket, she nudged Pinecone towards it. Despite the fact that there was something uneasy, something wrong and anxious about all the people in the village, she didn't really want to leave it. At the palace there had always been people about and she had been feeling isolated and lonely seeing only a few people-one of them being Lord Lucas-each day.
Lord Lucas took one look at the inn and began making rude remarks about "inferior accommodations". Stella kindly offered to let him share a stall with Pinecone or Mouse. For whatever reason, this offer was not well received; his reaction could have been worse however-Stella was beginning to believe that there might be a semi-decent human being buried-very, very, very, deeply-under all his layers of arrogance. Some small part of him seemed to appreciate the fact that there would be less work tonight.
She decided to care for the mounts herself just in case there was a description of Pinecone floating about. Then she tipped the stable boy what she hoped was enough to keep him from wondering why a teenage girl and a well-dressed little boy were traveling alone together, but hopefully not enough to make him question where her money came from. She noticed that a short, plump and brown-haired man appeared to be watching her and she hurried Lord Lucas into the dining room.
After arranging for a small room for the night with the innkeeper Stella treated Lord Lucas to a hot meal. There was roast chicken and cooked carrots (Stella's superior will power won out, and Lord Lucas had to eat his) and boiled potatoes. For dessert there were baked apples with cream. Stella found it wonderfully relaxing simply to sit and wait for the food to come to her, rather than having to worry about setting up a campsite and cooking and cleaning up. She slumped back in her chair and stared with childlike tiredness at the candle-lit room around her. There was, however, a tension in the room as there had been in the village. It was hard to place, almost intangible, but it manifested itself in tiny human details. Children of seven or eight, who should have been well past clinging to their mothers, were seated in parents' laps, more husbands had their arms around their wives, and there was urgent whispering between acquaintances. There laughter was a hair forced and nervous. And there were murmurings, mutterings about darkness, magic, mages, sorcery, and fear.
Her eyes happened to fall on the brown -haired man; he was watching her again, looking her up and down and eyeing her money sack. His eyes were shifty, his appearance untrustworthy. Her one consolation about this was that he probably wasn't employed by the King's Own. He looked more like a highwayman or robber.
"Come on," she hissed sharply to Lucas. "Let's go to our room." She hastily slammed a few coins onto the tables and then tugged him towards the stairs. He sensed her urgency and for once didn't argue. There was something that really frightened her about that stranger.
Once they had located and opened their room, a clean and well ordered place, Stella rung for the maid. She was red-headed and plump, with laughing eyes and perfectly shaped ears. She brought up hot water and soap for a bath in moments and didn't give voice to the questions that Stella could see in her gaze. Surprisingly, Lord Lucas plunged right into his bath without the long argument which Stella had been prepared. He only put in a reasonable request that she turn her back. Stella gathered from this that, allow he didn't like to eat vegetables, he did like to be clean, which was something. She put him into bed behind a screen and took her own bath, the warm water relaxing both muscles and mind.
The maid reappeared and offered to clean her clothes. Stella gratefully thrust a piles of dirty garments into her basket.
"By the way," the girl hissed in her ear as Stella leaned close, "there's a man downstairs asking questions about you. Thought you would like to know."
"Thank you! But why are you telling be."
The maid gave her a long look. "I know it be wrong to judge a book by its cover, but he looks more likely to run off without paying than you do." Then she turned quickly and left the room without another word.
A feeling of unease rose again within Stella and she quickly checked to see that all their belongings were gathered up so that they would be easy to grab in a hurry. She checked on Lord Lucas. He was sleeping soundly, not looking anywhere near angelic, but then, he didn't look devilish either. It's probably nothing, she told herself. With a sigh she flopped onto her bed and pulled the covers up.
She had trouble sleeping though. After all her nights outdoors she felt penned up and trapped inside the inn; it did no good to try to rationalize with her mind, she continued she fear the walls around her. There were noises below too, for the common room was far from empty despite the subdued appearance of the crowd at dinner. People were frightened but not terrified. So why couldn't she get her heart to stop hammering? Was it the man who had been watching her? She had no reason to fear him. Eyes couldn't harm and as for his intentions she should be prepared, as long as he hadn't been sent to bring her home, which she doubted. She stared up and the beams of the ceiling above her, and fell into a thoughtless half-doze.
Suddenly she sat bolt upright, feeling and echoing Pinecone's panic. There was something wrong in his stall, something that shouldn't be there. Quickly she tossed the covers off her bony knees and through on some spare clothing. She grabbed the knife that fury had slipped into her hand little more than a week before. Her hand was sweating and the wooden handle seemed treacherous in her grip. She paused at the door to glance back at the imperious young lord. He looked even uglier in his sleep but he was snoring peacefully.
No one seemed to notice her as she crept hurriedly downstairs and out the door. She broke into a run as she approached the stables. She flung open the door; saw a light flickering at Pinecone's stall. She sprang forwards, fear filling her steps.
Pinecone kicked out and a dark figured staggered backwards, doubled over. She saw a knife glinting in the flickering light. Stella screamed and rushed towards Pinecone. He was terribly frightened and defiant. All to quickly, she found herself standing between Pinecone and the man with the knife; she had a knife but she also knew that even if she were capable of attacking a person-which at least point seemed likely because he was attacking Pinecone-her opponent would probably have considerably more experience than she did at knife fighting. Stella wondered yet again about her suicidal inclinations as she raised the knife.
He slashed as her with the knife but she brought her knife of to defend herself, miraculously managing to avoid decapitation. He made a quick darting motion, almost too quick to be humanly possible, and sliced a cut across the knuckles of her knife hand. Stella screamed and tried to knock his knife out of his grip but she was too slow. They jabbed at each other for a few minutes while Stella's grip on the knife loosened, she was bleeding and the blood made everything slippery. Then she over-swung and knocked away the lantern.
Sparks flew everywhere and smoke began pouring from a beam. It was darker now, the fire the lantern had started was small for the moment. Stella had the uncanny sensation of realizing her opponent could see well in the dark. Suddenly he grabbed her wrist as though he meant to fling her away. Instead of striking at him with the knife, she turned and pushed his arm backwards flinging him to an imaginary spot below his center of gravity. She was amazed at her instinct; she had practiced the trick the Riders had taught her much, but it had been effective.
Without meaning to, Stella had flung him down just in front of Mouse. Mouse, being the sweet tempered pony that she was, promptly stepped on his shoulders, effectively trapping him. Stella knelt down, putting a knee on his chest and held her knife to his neck.
"What are you doing?" she yelled.
He didn't answer her. She realized that he had no color around his pupils; his eyes were like black holes. He opened his mouth, and his teeth suddenly became pointy. Stella gasped in alarm. He hissed sharply at her and vanished in a flash of silver light.
Stella's knee hit the floor with a painful thud. She looked up and Mouse, who looked as startled as Stella felt. Pinecone too was out of sorts.
"Horse lords protect me," she murmured to herself. She felt very unprotected at the moment. The slowly spreading fire caught her attention, and she hobbled over to beat it out with a saddle blanket. Somehow the fire seemed sluggish and unlikely to damage anything.
She couldn't stop shaking. She knew the image of that almost human face with fangs would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. It was wrong; no man should look that way. She stumbled over to Pinecone and wrapped her arms around his strong neck. She found herself crying and holding his mane. Then she backed away and met his eyes.
It's alright, he told her, he's gone. He leaned his head forwards to smell her and drooled on her arm. And it was horse drool that let her know her world still existed.
Quote: "Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten or the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?" -Macbeth Act 1. Scene 2
The quote fits, don't you think? Again, I'm sorry about the long wait between chapters. Why am I taking so many honors classes? By the way, if you want to know what's going on back at the castle, read The Daughter of Two Kings and add in a very distraught Stephen and Luke, my friend and are trying to link are stories together (note the obscure references to mages and darkness). Thank you for reading and please review.