Chapter 11
!!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! OH, Chrischelle, you are soooo lucky that I got your review before I posted. So, so lucky. This was what was at the beginning of this chapter BEFORE you reviewed:
Well, a big, fat thank-you to my one (ONE, 1, ONE, one...in case you hadn't read it right) reviewer. That's right, One. Thank you to my loyal read- but-I'm-not-gonna-bother-to-let-my-poor-author-know-that-I-AM-reading non- reviewer(s). DmN ü. That's right. Grrrrrrrrrrr. Alright, I'm done now. Please review. Please? Pleeeeeeease?
Kaio, my lone reviewer: Well I'm glad to be unpredictable, for once, oh faithful one. I think you deserve a dozen cookies for your loyalty. What kind do you want, chocolate chip, double chocolate, white and milk chocolate chip, macadamia nut and white chocolate, raspberry chocolate chip, or almond chip cookies? I recommend the white and milk chocolate chip cookies. Or ze variety pack. It's yours to choose, my dutiful one. Take as long as u want in getting back to me...I have plenty of time now that my other reviewers have abandoned me glares threateningly at read-but-I'm- not-gonna-bother-to-let-the-poor-author-know-that-I-AM-reading non- reviewer(s)
Later: Ohoh, ummmmmmm, winndixie? I have nooo idea whatsoever what 'colio' means, please enlighten me. Because I haven't a clue what that means, it can't really encourage or constructively criticise, so it's, no offence, really not a review.
So Kaio, here's to you!
End Scene: Yeah. But I thank you that u reviewed, Chrischelle, I thank you. Took your time about it, though...I sill love you (or as affectionate as I get). Like I said, you're lucky. And I accept the kitten with open arms. I shall put my grumpy, old cat in my sister's room and let my new kitten wander its new domain. Please, what does my kitten look like? And what did you think of last chapter...and this one? Ya kinda missed the point of ze 'review' thing, but again, I still love you. And because you reviewed, u also get your choice of a dozen cookies, you and Kaio both. Now, READ!....and review.
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The Earl picked up his hat and left the study, not bothering to ring for a servant to show him out. Sophia burned with what she had just heard. Married?! To him? The man was twice her age, he was her best friend's father, for Remaneen's sake! She closed the panel and picked up her lamp. She turned and sunk to the ground, weary beyond belief. Slowly, her nose prickled, announcing the tears that would follow. She sniffed loudly and stood.
How she got back to her rooms, Sophia would never know. But she found herself pacing them with such intensity. 'How could he do this to me! A reliable man, no....wealthy, influential, a thousand times my age, condescending man, yes. How can I bear it? What will Abby and Keosha think? Abby!' Sophia stopped dead. Abby. Her dearest friend would be her, her...'I don't even want to finish that thought.' She shook her head and sighed a great, heaving sigh that came from her troubled heart. She continued to pace, even though her feet seemed as heavy as the oaken dining table in their banquet hall. Banquet hall. Banquets, wedding banquet, after the banquet, after the delicacies and the gifts, the marriage bed. A tiny moan wrenched itself from her soul,
"Oh, gods!" She staggered to her bed and collapsed, she buried her face in her arms and let the tickle of tears come, let her eyes prick, and let the tears fall onto the soft quilt, soaking it. Her crying turned to sobs and she sobbed and sobbed, for what seemed like an eternity. Soon, though, her sobs were wracking her body, her tears dried up, leaving her without even the comfort of succumbing to tears. She ignored her empty tears and sobs dry sobs that left her heaving on her bed, morning her fate. Mourning her lost future, her lost love. She lay on her bed long after she stopped any semblance of crying, shaking with grief. Finally, Sophia fell asleep, tired beyond her years, tired beyond belief.
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Abby's heels clicked furiously down the stone floors as she desperately tried to remember the way back to the courtyard. She saw a window and dashed towards it, exhaling the breath she realised she'd been holding. She was going the right way, the view from the window was still of the courtyard. After a few seconds of deliberation, she ran down the corridor, her long skirts hampering her speed. The heavy winter cloaks she wore and carried lessened her progress towards the courtyard.
At last she spotted the heavy oaken door that she believed led to the courtyard. Hoping that one of the other guards had helped their fallen comrade, she ran (as best she could) towards the door. Lifting the heavy metal handle, she pulled, using all her body weight. The door creaked and groaned, opening slowly. She stopped pulling to quickly wipe her forehead with her arm. Pulling again, Abby strained to move the heavy, stubborn door any further. Finally, she moved it just past twelve inches, each of the dozen dearly bought. She pulled herself through the doorway, and stopped as the rain pelted her mercilessly. Pulling the cloak's hood over her face, Abby made out the shape of the young collapsed guard in the middle of the courtyard. His fellow guards had not moved to help him.
She ran towards him, her long and now wet skirts making her stumble. She knelt in the muddles next to him, pressing her hand against his cold, wet cheek. He was shivering terribly, his damp hair in trendles around his handsome face. She unfolded the heavy cloak and was about to place it on him when a hand stopped her. Abby looked up at Keosha and nodded, understanding.
"Oh. The rain will soak it through if I put it on now, is that what you meant?' Keosha nodded and said in a shivery voice,
"Grab his feet and I'll grab his other half, Abby. Together we'll lift him." Abby lifted his feet, trying to pin the cloak under her arm while lifting him. Keosha hooked her hands under his arms and lifted with her mistress. The man wasn't as heavy as the noblewoman had expected, but Keosha had already suspected that he wasn't finished filling out, 'or,' she thought, 'just a natural runt.' They moved him towards the door, and ever the eyes of the other guards watched their labours.
"Put him down here," Keosha murmured, as they neared the doorway. They did so gently as Keosha picked heavily on the door. After four hard kicks, a nervous-looking boy wearing the palace page's tunic and colours opened the door.
"Pick him up, Keosha," Abby muttered as her friend shoved the door open. They carried him in as the noblewoman ordered the young boy to close the door. They carefully laid him on the cold, but dry stone floor and Abby covered him with the cloak. Keosha looked up to see the page watching them curiously. Carefully, but still curiously, he began edging away. The boy's movement caught Abby's eyes and she said in a firm, commanding voice,
"You, page, find a healer, and send some men to carry this guard to a bed chamber. Quick now!" The boy nodded and bowed before running down the corridor.
"Cover him completely, I think he might have a cold fever." Abby nodded and began tucking the cloak around the young man's body. She finished, and looked to Keosha for direction. The older girl shrugged and said,
"The only thing we can do is keep him dry, and we aren't exactly able to do that, are we?" Abby looked down at the man, whose wet clothing had almost soaked the cloak through. Shaking her head she knelt back down and slowly began rubbing one of his arms. Keosha, watching her mistress gently almost caress this unknown young man, started to worry. If anyone else saw this, her reputation good reputation would end before it had begun. She slowly knelt beside her friend and saw intensity lighting up Abby's eyes. Keosha placed her hand on Abby's arm, making her look up, startled. Keosha gently pulled her naïve friend up, and in a quiet whisper confided,
"Your kindness and care is inspiring, truly, Lady Abigail, but if others see you, they will see only a noblewoman touching man, and their gossiping tongues will be set awagging. Best keep your kindness in check, my lady." And Abby, understanding that Keosha's formal speech was due to possible eavesdroppers, and, also understood her reasoning, joined her friend in waiting anxiously for help.
While they seemed to wait for hours, in truth it was no more than a few minutes. Presently the thud of men's footsteps were heard on the stairs and Keosha rushed towards them. Three men appeared from the stairwell. Keosha hastily directed them towards the man on the ground, near which Abby stood. The men made their way towards them and one asked of Abby, "What happened, miss?"
"We were looking out upon the courtyard and saw him collapse. None of his fellow guards moved to help him, so my maid servant and I brought him in here." While she explained, the young page had returned, towing a reluctant man in green and brown trimmed robes. His arrival distracted Abigail from the three men's look of uneasiness that Keosha caught.
"Here's your healer, my lady," He told Abby, seeming proud of himself for carrying out his orders. She smiled at him, but the healer began to talk as soon as she had,
"Well I hope this was worth my being dragged from my studies, I really don't like having pages summon their elders, it isn't right. To be treated in such a manner, 'tis unacceptable, I tell you. Ah, now where is this young, shivering guard?" The healer's voice was slightly nasal, Keosha noticed as he bent to examine the man on the floor. The healer straitened after a second or two and said in a slightly disappointed voice,
"He'll have to be removed to the healing quarters. You men," he said, gesturing to the three men who had arrived moments before him, "lift him gently and follow me." The men looked at each other before hoisting the man easily and trailing after the bossy healer.
Abby, Keosha, and the page stood staring after them. The page scratched his neck and turned to Abby, his eyes wide,
"Uh, my lady," he paused, seeming to wait for her approval to continue. At her nod, he pressed on, "Did I hear you correctly, that you brought him in from the courtyard?" Keosha and Abby exchanged a look. Why did that matter? When Abby nodded a second time, the page looked crestfallen. He looked at the tops of his felt shoes in great interest. Abby felt a prickling down her wet back. What was this boy concealing? She walked over to him, the picture of noble imperiality. Placed two fingers under his chin, she lifted his head gently, so he was looking at her.
"Why did you ask?" The page muttered something, looking away and back to her again. "Speak up, child, I am not an ogre, but an impatient noble. Why do you ask where the man was found?" The boy looked into Abigail's eyes, and she was startled to find them brimming with unshed tears. Keeping his gaze on her face, the boy answered a small, miserable voice,
"My lady, the guards in that courtyard yonder," he waved his arm towards the courtyard door, "are never to be helped by us, us palace-dwellers, I mean, they're training to become part of the King's Guard. And anyway, my lady, he woulda gotten up anyways, he'd a been fine. I don't think you'll get in too much trouble from his Majesty, on account of how recently you came here, maybe he'll be in such a good mood that he'll not say anathing. I've heard he's like that." The page nodded to affirm his last statement. Keosha and Abby looked at each other. Be in trouble with a King that she hadn't been introduced to yet? Lovely way to begin her life at court. 'And furthermore,' thought Abby, ' Does the whole castle know about us? Would even a page already know us by appearance?' She turned her attention back to the now- anxious page who stood infront of her.
"I've not done anathing, bad, have I?" He asked. She struggled to smiled, but she felt like she ought to say 'Now, I wouldn't know, would I? After all, you seem to know far more about me than I about you, why don't' YOU tell ME if you've done 'anathing' bad!?!' Abby shook her head. She'd heard somewhere that pages were trained to keep an ear out for information, it could very well be that he was simply doing what he was instructed to do.
"No, but perhaps you could tell me where the guard will be kept, I've no notion of where the healing quarters are located." The page still look unconvinced, but Abby, after a moment of reflection decided she wasn't going to ask and risk another speech containing 'anathing' and 'woulda'. She gave him a stern look, decided that he was a new page, and waited for him to lead them.
The page withered slightly and turned toward one of the adjoining corridors, motioning for them to follow. They did, Keosha memorizing and Abby attempting to memorize the turns. The trio arrived infront of a set of tall, white doors which had silvery writing on it, proclaiming ' Healing Quarters'. The page stepped forward and knocked ever so softly on the white doors. Hopping back quickly, the boy looked up at the two women and muttered something inaudible, shifting restlessly. Before Abby could ask him to repeat himself, the doors opened silently and quickly, leaving Abby with no doubt why the page had jumped back so quickly after knocking.
A tall, white-haired man in white robes stood with his hands clasped together infront of him, and a questioning look on his face. His gaze fell on Keosha and he raised one white eyebrow, which led to pursed lips. Keosha instinctively stepped back and more behind Abby, and adopted a more servant-like stance. Abigail considered it briefly before shifting slightly, drawing the man's attention towards her.
"We are here to inquire as to the health of a certain young guard which was recently brought under the care of a healer. We were told that he would be kept here. Is it possible that we see him?" The man nodded and motioned for them to follow him. He led them down the white corridor and passed doorways with white curtains as coverings. He stopped infront of one, and left them there.
"Well I suppose he has better things to do," Abby muttered, miffed. The page eyed the man's back in dislike. He shook his head and pulled the curtain back from the doorway. After poking his head in, he pulled it out and informed the two that their guard was at the far end, and awake. The boy stopped and asked suddenly,
"My lady, I've got no idea what your names are, or your proper title,"
"I am Lady Abigail of Mattensworth, and this is my maid-servant, Keosha Jameson." The page nodded and told them his name, Patrick.
The man watched them enter, his blue eyes bright against his pale skin and dark brown hair. He sat up slowly as Abigail and Keosha stood by the bed on which he now sat. They awkward silence was deafening before the page hurried forward,
"This is the Lady Abigail, it was she who carried you into the castle from the rain, she and her maid-servant, Keosha. This is Lord Antony Dewhurst, a King's Guard in training." The young man's eyes shone with half disgust and half with ill-concealed amusement.
"You may be proud to be called the reason that I shall not succeed in the King's Guard. You two women lifted me from the courtyard?" His voice was a light tenor, which sent shivers up Keosha's spine. She quickly turned away, and out of the corner of her eye saw Abby shift slightly too. ' Thanks to the God and Goddess, it wasn't just me,' Keosha thought gratefully. Abby swallowed and said a tad contritely,
"We have come to apologize for disrupting your er- training and also to inquire after your health." Lord Dewhurst smiled slightly before replying.
"I had not realized that I looked quite so pathetic as to require the aid of two women, however I am thankful to you both." The two looked at each other before the nobleman continued, "It was ill- fated that I should have stayed up later last night, thought I, for if I had not, then I would not, undoubtedly, have collapsed. But, I remind myself that if I had not collapsed, I would not have had two young ladies visit me. Your apologies are accepted, ladies- Lady Abigail, Miss Keosha." Abby's brows shot up at the eloquent speech and Abby replied, her friend still slightly shivery after hearing his voice again.
"Then all is well between us, Lord Dewhurst?" He smiled again, a broad smile which made Keosha's heart contract slightly and he replied to Abby, though his blue eyes were resting on Keosha's face. "Aye, Lady Mattensworth, it is. Though perhaps were shall see each other at social events, and become friends. I have already heard of the beauty that is shared between you and your, friend, is the correct term between you two, I guess." Keosha's cheeks coloured, though it was almost indistinguishable against her dark complexion. The noble's eyes narrowed pleasantly as his smile grew and he continued,
"I thank you for delivering me from the rain, ladies. Perhaps you two would take tea with my sister, who also resides in King James' Court, and I, at two, tomorrow afternoon. I would thank you for your presence." Abby glanced at Keosha before turning back to the man on the be with an answering smile,
"We will attend, with pleasure." Lord Dewhurst's smile grew and he replied that he would look forward to their ubiety. As they said their farewells, Abby informed him that they would visit him when he was feeling better. The nobleman snorted in the most ungentleman-like way and his slimly muscled shoulders shook as while before he explained himself.
"Ladies, I was never truly ill enough to be brought here. I will report to my sergeant almost immediately, but I was seeing my most esteemed guest out before I could properly clothe myself," The two women coloured (Keosha more so) as his meaning dawned on them. They said final good-byes and Patrick led, with Abby behind him and Keosha turned to follow when a slim, strong hand caught her dark, slim one. She turned and looked again into the blue eyes that so reminded her of the sea over which she travelled to find her freedom. His voice grew deeper as he whispered softly to her,
"Your mistress is said to be beautiful beyond belief and her hand maiden is told to be fair," She looked at him in confusion and he continued, " But though I find Lady Abigail to be lovely, you are beyond compare. Yours is a different kind of beauty, like the velvet of the stars is different then the petal of a rose." He paused and his eyes twinkled, "I myself prefer a midnight velvet." Keosha's cheeks borrowed their hue from a cherry and he pulled her closer, so she could smell his husky masculine scent.
"Your mistress will come tomorrow, but it is you that I crave to see." Faintly the serving girl heard Abby's voice and she pulled gently away from the alluring blue eyes. "Tomorrow," he said softly, almost a question.
"Tomorrow." She replied, as an answer, a promise.
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I know that 'imperiality' isn't a word, but I needed to get it across and my thesaurus wasn't handy.
Note: There are two deities in the country of Arulanthu (where my story is set) and the surrounding countries. One is the Mother goddess, Remaneen. Her counterpart in the universal patriarch, Solaro, the Father god. Together, they rule the countries of Abby and Keosha's world.
Please REVIEW....promptly. Thank you.
!!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! !!!!! OH, Chrischelle, you are soooo lucky that I got your review before I posted. So, so lucky. This was what was at the beginning of this chapter BEFORE you reviewed:
Well, a big, fat thank-you to my one (ONE, 1, ONE, one...in case you hadn't read it right) reviewer. That's right, One. Thank you to my loyal read- but-I'm-not-gonna-bother-to-let-my-poor-author-know-that-I-AM-reading non- reviewer(s). DmN ü. That's right. Grrrrrrrrrrr. Alright, I'm done now. Please review. Please? Pleeeeeeease?
Kaio, my lone reviewer: Well I'm glad to be unpredictable, for once, oh faithful one. I think you deserve a dozen cookies for your loyalty. What kind do you want, chocolate chip, double chocolate, white and milk chocolate chip, macadamia nut and white chocolate, raspberry chocolate chip, or almond chip cookies? I recommend the white and milk chocolate chip cookies. Or ze variety pack. It's yours to choose, my dutiful one. Take as long as u want in getting back to me...I have plenty of time now that my other reviewers have abandoned me glares threateningly at read-but-I'm- not-gonna-bother-to-let-the-poor-author-know-that-I-AM-reading non- reviewer(s)
Later: Ohoh, ummmmmmm, winndixie? I have nooo idea whatsoever what 'colio' means, please enlighten me. Because I haven't a clue what that means, it can't really encourage or constructively criticise, so it's, no offence, really not a review.
So Kaio, here's to you!
End Scene: Yeah. But I thank you that u reviewed, Chrischelle, I thank you. Took your time about it, though...I sill love you (or as affectionate as I get). Like I said, you're lucky. And I accept the kitten with open arms. I shall put my grumpy, old cat in my sister's room and let my new kitten wander its new domain. Please, what does my kitten look like? And what did you think of last chapter...and this one? Ya kinda missed the point of ze 'review' thing, but again, I still love you. And because you reviewed, u also get your choice of a dozen cookies, you and Kaio both. Now, READ!....and review.
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The Earl picked up his hat and left the study, not bothering to ring for a servant to show him out. Sophia burned with what she had just heard. Married?! To him? The man was twice her age, he was her best friend's father, for Remaneen's sake! She closed the panel and picked up her lamp. She turned and sunk to the ground, weary beyond belief. Slowly, her nose prickled, announcing the tears that would follow. She sniffed loudly and stood.
How she got back to her rooms, Sophia would never know. But she found herself pacing them with such intensity. 'How could he do this to me! A reliable man, no....wealthy, influential, a thousand times my age, condescending man, yes. How can I bear it? What will Abby and Keosha think? Abby!' Sophia stopped dead. Abby. Her dearest friend would be her, her...'I don't even want to finish that thought.' She shook her head and sighed a great, heaving sigh that came from her troubled heart. She continued to pace, even though her feet seemed as heavy as the oaken dining table in their banquet hall. Banquet hall. Banquets, wedding banquet, after the banquet, after the delicacies and the gifts, the marriage bed. A tiny moan wrenched itself from her soul,
"Oh, gods!" She staggered to her bed and collapsed, she buried her face in her arms and let the tickle of tears come, let her eyes prick, and let the tears fall onto the soft quilt, soaking it. Her crying turned to sobs and she sobbed and sobbed, for what seemed like an eternity. Soon, though, her sobs were wracking her body, her tears dried up, leaving her without even the comfort of succumbing to tears. She ignored her empty tears and sobs dry sobs that left her heaving on her bed, morning her fate. Mourning her lost future, her lost love. She lay on her bed long after she stopped any semblance of crying, shaking with grief. Finally, Sophia fell asleep, tired beyond her years, tired beyond belief.
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Abby's heels clicked furiously down the stone floors as she desperately tried to remember the way back to the courtyard. She saw a window and dashed towards it, exhaling the breath she realised she'd been holding. She was going the right way, the view from the window was still of the courtyard. After a few seconds of deliberation, she ran down the corridor, her long skirts hampering her speed. The heavy winter cloaks she wore and carried lessened her progress towards the courtyard.
At last she spotted the heavy oaken door that she believed led to the courtyard. Hoping that one of the other guards had helped their fallen comrade, she ran (as best she could) towards the door. Lifting the heavy metal handle, she pulled, using all her body weight. The door creaked and groaned, opening slowly. She stopped pulling to quickly wipe her forehead with her arm. Pulling again, Abby strained to move the heavy, stubborn door any further. Finally, she moved it just past twelve inches, each of the dozen dearly bought. She pulled herself through the doorway, and stopped as the rain pelted her mercilessly. Pulling the cloak's hood over her face, Abby made out the shape of the young collapsed guard in the middle of the courtyard. His fellow guards had not moved to help him.
She ran towards him, her long and now wet skirts making her stumble. She knelt in the muddles next to him, pressing her hand against his cold, wet cheek. He was shivering terribly, his damp hair in trendles around his handsome face. She unfolded the heavy cloak and was about to place it on him when a hand stopped her. Abby looked up at Keosha and nodded, understanding.
"Oh. The rain will soak it through if I put it on now, is that what you meant?' Keosha nodded and said in a shivery voice,
"Grab his feet and I'll grab his other half, Abby. Together we'll lift him." Abby lifted his feet, trying to pin the cloak under her arm while lifting him. Keosha hooked her hands under his arms and lifted with her mistress. The man wasn't as heavy as the noblewoman had expected, but Keosha had already suspected that he wasn't finished filling out, 'or,' she thought, 'just a natural runt.' They moved him towards the door, and ever the eyes of the other guards watched their labours.
"Put him down here," Keosha murmured, as they neared the doorway. They did so gently as Keosha picked heavily on the door. After four hard kicks, a nervous-looking boy wearing the palace page's tunic and colours opened the door.
"Pick him up, Keosha," Abby muttered as her friend shoved the door open. They carried him in as the noblewoman ordered the young boy to close the door. They carefully laid him on the cold, but dry stone floor and Abby covered him with the cloak. Keosha looked up to see the page watching them curiously. Carefully, but still curiously, he began edging away. The boy's movement caught Abby's eyes and she said in a firm, commanding voice,
"You, page, find a healer, and send some men to carry this guard to a bed chamber. Quick now!" The boy nodded and bowed before running down the corridor.
"Cover him completely, I think he might have a cold fever." Abby nodded and began tucking the cloak around the young man's body. She finished, and looked to Keosha for direction. The older girl shrugged and said,
"The only thing we can do is keep him dry, and we aren't exactly able to do that, are we?" Abby looked down at the man, whose wet clothing had almost soaked the cloak through. Shaking her head she knelt back down and slowly began rubbing one of his arms. Keosha, watching her mistress gently almost caress this unknown young man, started to worry. If anyone else saw this, her reputation good reputation would end before it had begun. She slowly knelt beside her friend and saw intensity lighting up Abby's eyes. Keosha placed her hand on Abby's arm, making her look up, startled. Keosha gently pulled her naïve friend up, and in a quiet whisper confided,
"Your kindness and care is inspiring, truly, Lady Abigail, but if others see you, they will see only a noblewoman touching man, and their gossiping tongues will be set awagging. Best keep your kindness in check, my lady." And Abby, understanding that Keosha's formal speech was due to possible eavesdroppers, and, also understood her reasoning, joined her friend in waiting anxiously for help.
While they seemed to wait for hours, in truth it was no more than a few minutes. Presently the thud of men's footsteps were heard on the stairs and Keosha rushed towards them. Three men appeared from the stairwell. Keosha hastily directed them towards the man on the ground, near which Abby stood. The men made their way towards them and one asked of Abby, "What happened, miss?"
"We were looking out upon the courtyard and saw him collapse. None of his fellow guards moved to help him, so my maid servant and I brought him in here." While she explained, the young page had returned, towing a reluctant man in green and brown trimmed robes. His arrival distracted Abigail from the three men's look of uneasiness that Keosha caught.
"Here's your healer, my lady," He told Abby, seeming proud of himself for carrying out his orders. She smiled at him, but the healer began to talk as soon as she had,
"Well I hope this was worth my being dragged from my studies, I really don't like having pages summon their elders, it isn't right. To be treated in such a manner, 'tis unacceptable, I tell you. Ah, now where is this young, shivering guard?" The healer's voice was slightly nasal, Keosha noticed as he bent to examine the man on the floor. The healer straitened after a second or two and said in a slightly disappointed voice,
"He'll have to be removed to the healing quarters. You men," he said, gesturing to the three men who had arrived moments before him, "lift him gently and follow me." The men looked at each other before hoisting the man easily and trailing after the bossy healer.
Abby, Keosha, and the page stood staring after them. The page scratched his neck and turned to Abby, his eyes wide,
"Uh, my lady," he paused, seeming to wait for her approval to continue. At her nod, he pressed on, "Did I hear you correctly, that you brought him in from the courtyard?" Keosha and Abby exchanged a look. Why did that matter? When Abby nodded a second time, the page looked crestfallen. He looked at the tops of his felt shoes in great interest. Abby felt a prickling down her wet back. What was this boy concealing? She walked over to him, the picture of noble imperiality. Placed two fingers under his chin, she lifted his head gently, so he was looking at her.
"Why did you ask?" The page muttered something, looking away and back to her again. "Speak up, child, I am not an ogre, but an impatient noble. Why do you ask where the man was found?" The boy looked into Abigail's eyes, and she was startled to find them brimming with unshed tears. Keeping his gaze on her face, the boy answered a small, miserable voice,
"My lady, the guards in that courtyard yonder," he waved his arm towards the courtyard door, "are never to be helped by us, us palace-dwellers, I mean, they're training to become part of the King's Guard. And anyway, my lady, he woulda gotten up anyways, he'd a been fine. I don't think you'll get in too much trouble from his Majesty, on account of how recently you came here, maybe he'll be in such a good mood that he'll not say anathing. I've heard he's like that." The page nodded to affirm his last statement. Keosha and Abby looked at each other. Be in trouble with a King that she hadn't been introduced to yet? Lovely way to begin her life at court. 'And furthermore,' thought Abby, ' Does the whole castle know about us? Would even a page already know us by appearance?' She turned her attention back to the now- anxious page who stood infront of her.
"I've not done anathing, bad, have I?" He asked. She struggled to smiled, but she felt like she ought to say 'Now, I wouldn't know, would I? After all, you seem to know far more about me than I about you, why don't' YOU tell ME if you've done 'anathing' bad!?!' Abby shook her head. She'd heard somewhere that pages were trained to keep an ear out for information, it could very well be that he was simply doing what he was instructed to do.
"No, but perhaps you could tell me where the guard will be kept, I've no notion of where the healing quarters are located." The page still look unconvinced, but Abby, after a moment of reflection decided she wasn't going to ask and risk another speech containing 'anathing' and 'woulda'. She gave him a stern look, decided that he was a new page, and waited for him to lead them.
The page withered slightly and turned toward one of the adjoining corridors, motioning for them to follow. They did, Keosha memorizing and Abby attempting to memorize the turns. The trio arrived infront of a set of tall, white doors which had silvery writing on it, proclaiming ' Healing Quarters'. The page stepped forward and knocked ever so softly on the white doors. Hopping back quickly, the boy looked up at the two women and muttered something inaudible, shifting restlessly. Before Abby could ask him to repeat himself, the doors opened silently and quickly, leaving Abby with no doubt why the page had jumped back so quickly after knocking.
A tall, white-haired man in white robes stood with his hands clasped together infront of him, and a questioning look on his face. His gaze fell on Keosha and he raised one white eyebrow, which led to pursed lips. Keosha instinctively stepped back and more behind Abby, and adopted a more servant-like stance. Abigail considered it briefly before shifting slightly, drawing the man's attention towards her.
"We are here to inquire as to the health of a certain young guard which was recently brought under the care of a healer. We were told that he would be kept here. Is it possible that we see him?" The man nodded and motioned for them to follow him. He led them down the white corridor and passed doorways with white curtains as coverings. He stopped infront of one, and left them there.
"Well I suppose he has better things to do," Abby muttered, miffed. The page eyed the man's back in dislike. He shook his head and pulled the curtain back from the doorway. After poking his head in, he pulled it out and informed the two that their guard was at the far end, and awake. The boy stopped and asked suddenly,
"My lady, I've got no idea what your names are, or your proper title,"
"I am Lady Abigail of Mattensworth, and this is my maid-servant, Keosha Jameson." The page nodded and told them his name, Patrick.
The man watched them enter, his blue eyes bright against his pale skin and dark brown hair. He sat up slowly as Abigail and Keosha stood by the bed on which he now sat. They awkward silence was deafening before the page hurried forward,
"This is the Lady Abigail, it was she who carried you into the castle from the rain, she and her maid-servant, Keosha. This is Lord Antony Dewhurst, a King's Guard in training." The young man's eyes shone with half disgust and half with ill-concealed amusement.
"You may be proud to be called the reason that I shall not succeed in the King's Guard. You two women lifted me from the courtyard?" His voice was a light tenor, which sent shivers up Keosha's spine. She quickly turned away, and out of the corner of her eye saw Abby shift slightly too. ' Thanks to the God and Goddess, it wasn't just me,' Keosha thought gratefully. Abby swallowed and said a tad contritely,
"We have come to apologize for disrupting your er- training and also to inquire after your health." Lord Dewhurst smiled slightly before replying.
"I had not realized that I looked quite so pathetic as to require the aid of two women, however I am thankful to you both." The two looked at each other before the nobleman continued, "It was ill- fated that I should have stayed up later last night, thought I, for if I had not, then I would not, undoubtedly, have collapsed. But, I remind myself that if I had not collapsed, I would not have had two young ladies visit me. Your apologies are accepted, ladies- Lady Abigail, Miss Keosha." Abby's brows shot up at the eloquent speech and Abby replied, her friend still slightly shivery after hearing his voice again.
"Then all is well between us, Lord Dewhurst?" He smiled again, a broad smile which made Keosha's heart contract slightly and he replied to Abby, though his blue eyes were resting on Keosha's face. "Aye, Lady Mattensworth, it is. Though perhaps were shall see each other at social events, and become friends. I have already heard of the beauty that is shared between you and your, friend, is the correct term between you two, I guess." Keosha's cheeks coloured, though it was almost indistinguishable against her dark complexion. The noble's eyes narrowed pleasantly as his smile grew and he continued,
"I thank you for delivering me from the rain, ladies. Perhaps you two would take tea with my sister, who also resides in King James' Court, and I, at two, tomorrow afternoon. I would thank you for your presence." Abby glanced at Keosha before turning back to the man on the be with an answering smile,
"We will attend, with pleasure." Lord Dewhurst's smile grew and he replied that he would look forward to their ubiety. As they said their farewells, Abby informed him that they would visit him when he was feeling better. The nobleman snorted in the most ungentleman-like way and his slimly muscled shoulders shook as while before he explained himself.
"Ladies, I was never truly ill enough to be brought here. I will report to my sergeant almost immediately, but I was seeing my most esteemed guest out before I could properly clothe myself," The two women coloured (Keosha more so) as his meaning dawned on them. They said final good-byes and Patrick led, with Abby behind him and Keosha turned to follow when a slim, strong hand caught her dark, slim one. She turned and looked again into the blue eyes that so reminded her of the sea over which she travelled to find her freedom. His voice grew deeper as he whispered softly to her,
"Your mistress is said to be beautiful beyond belief and her hand maiden is told to be fair," She looked at him in confusion and he continued, " But though I find Lady Abigail to be lovely, you are beyond compare. Yours is a different kind of beauty, like the velvet of the stars is different then the petal of a rose." He paused and his eyes twinkled, "I myself prefer a midnight velvet." Keosha's cheeks borrowed their hue from a cherry and he pulled her closer, so she could smell his husky masculine scent.
"Your mistress will come tomorrow, but it is you that I crave to see." Faintly the serving girl heard Abby's voice and she pulled gently away from the alluring blue eyes. "Tomorrow," he said softly, almost a question.
"Tomorrow." She replied, as an answer, a promise.
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I know that 'imperiality' isn't a word, but I needed to get it across and my thesaurus wasn't handy.
Note: There are two deities in the country of Arulanthu (where my story is set) and the surrounding countries. One is the Mother goddess, Remaneen. Her counterpart in the universal patriarch, Solaro, the Father god. Together, they rule the countries of Abby and Keosha's world.
Please REVIEW....promptly. Thank you.
