Akwyn- I knew there was something wrong with the sentence! Thanks so much, I went back and edited the whole 'prostrate' thing...a-hem...yes, that was just not good at all. Surprisingly, the speech came to me in a rush...unfortunately my typing skills were hard pressed to keep up with my thought! Thanks for reviewing.

Karolyn Balafonte- Yes, I do realise that the plot was far too drawn-out, but I must say that if you don't like my characters it puzzles me as to why you have bothered to read any of it...perhaps reading on in hopes that it would improve was your reason. As they didn't, there was no point in you reading further. I finished it for my reviewers as my 'profile' thing states.

Gigi- thanks for the headsup, but I fixed Akwyn's...my laziness is growing even as we speak...I've no intention of fixing anything else...lol. Thanks for the luck.

ElvenSilver- I assume you meant 'updated', but thanks for the complements...oh, I'm blushing. (Smiles)

I had hoped for five reviews to Chapter 30 before I posted this chapter, however one cannot have everything in life...where would we put it?


Chapter 31: Finally and Too Late

Mother Iku and the Green Coterie had left their residence in the palace. A whisper of the King's decision to abdicate in favour of Lawrence and through him to the Earl of Kelderstone had proved true, and the woman had wasted no time in gathering her belongings and followers and retreating from Arulanthu. Even as the King discussed the matter with his cousin in one of the Queen's anti-chambers, the old wrinkled woman was being conveyed by carriage to the nearest sea-port, thence to be taken by ship to Manisanri, where she would report to the Mother and Father...perhaps they would forgive her for her failure to create civil-war in Arulanthu...if not, Iku shuddered to think the tortures she would have to endure to be found worthy of another post.


Duke Hubert of Lormington, employee of the Green Coterie and employer of Yona, was found, cudgelled to death by the room's fire-poker. A note was pinned to his back by a non-discript dagger, reading,

He who lays here is a traitor to the Crown.

The Vial is to be found at #7 Rock's Edge Street.

The guards stared at the note, incredulous. The Captain of the King's Guard knelt and wrenched the dagger with a squelching sound from the expired Duke's back.

" We'll not find the murderer. Best take this to his Majesty." The soldiers filed out, leaving the Duke's body lying where it had been found, his eyes still staring vacantly at nothing.

Yona stood, as he had through the whole exchange (from the time the Duke had been discovered to when the maid and run screaming out, to when the guards had arrived and left, the note in hand) at the window, watching interestedly as people discovered his work. 'There are just too many nobles to please them all,' he thought, as his eyes played idly over the small black petal stuck through the Duke's button-whole. The Captain was too sharp a man not to have noticed it. 'Luckily he is wise enough not to meddle. If onlynobles were as wise.' Yona reflected on how easily the Duke had told him the Vial's whereabouts. 'Such a stupid man...I'm nearly ashamed to have been employed by him.'

The man slipped from the window, contemplating how to tell Iloria that her least-favourite whoremonger was dead. ' A bottle of the wine, I think, and the contribution from the Duke's jewellery collection should do the trick.' Smiling happily, the spy leapt from the Castle walls, well pleased to be leaving his former employer for good.


Abby paced nervously in one of the Queen's sitting rooms. She was waiting with Sophia and Keosha, both of whom watched her nervously. Their attempts to calm her had been rejected and/or unsuccessful, leaving them with no other option but to retreat and watch over their agitated friend.

The tea that Natalia had ordered arrived, rising and dashing the Countess's hopes as waves of a storm on the rocks. The King and Queen had removed to speak privately, and Natalia was with them.

Finally, after nearly a quarter-hour, there came a soft knock at the sitting room door, and Abby froze. Sophia and Keosha rose, and the latter went to the door and admitted the newly re-instated Knighted Count Marcus DeBracey. The two women left, leaving Abigail and Marcus alone, with the door open a crack for posterity.

Marcus, who had obtained a fresh set of clothes and a lightening-quick bath on his way to the Queen's chambers, no longer stank of the dungeons.

Abby spoke first.

" I'm sorry, Marcus. I didn't do nearly enough to spring you from prison. I panicked and...and withdrew." A tear escaped her and trickled down her pale cheek. In five long strides, the man crossed the room and cradled her in his arms.

" Don't be sorry. You did free me in the end...you forced the King to see reason. And I am here." She shook her head.

" No, you don't understand. I made myself believe there was nothing to be done and I left! I left the palace and went home, where I stayed selfishly in bed, convinced that you were as good as dead...I cannot even ask you to forgive my stupidity and betrayal of our love." She pushed out of his embrace and paced the room again. " I am sorry if you held onto the belief that you had loved a virtuous and loyal woman...but I am not she. Go back to Jeanine! She is worthier of such a man as you."

With that shocking statement, Abigail ran from the room. Marcus stood frozen for a moment before racing after her.

He chased her through many corridors and eventually found her in the very garden that he'd been arrested in two months ago. Finally, she collapsed on the cobble-stone walkway, sobbing and weary. Marcus scooped her up in his arms and carried her to one of the benches, where he sat with her cradled in his arms for a half-hour.

" Abby...don't run from me. You sprung me from the dungeons. True, I'd have liked to be out sooner." He shook his head when she opened her mouth. " But I am out now. And I still love, you...in fact I love you all the more." With that, he kissed her, as sweet and passionate a kiss as he'd ever felt, and as reassuring a feeling as Abby had ever known.

They sat together, and spoke long into the night, finally together.


Hershel gasped as the dog's teeth sunk into his left calf. He bit back a scream. After nearly two months on the farm, labouring in exchange for the farmer's discretion, food and shelter, he'd had enough. However rash the idea was, the man had left in the dead of night, slipping out of the cramped log cabin the labouring gypsies used as housing, and over the harvested fields.

What he hadn't counted on was that the farmer had taken certain precautions against his nomadic gypsy labourers leaving before the harvest was in. 'Namely several, obviously underfed dogs with,' Hershel thought bitterly as he tied a tourniquet tightly on his leg, 'incredibly long and sharp fangs.'

The man had only barely escaped the dogs, but not without losing far too much blood. 'Too much to get away,' Nevertheless, the gypsy stumbled off in the early morning light, trying not to lean on his injured leg...

Hinda lay on her small cot, a raging fever controlling her weakened body. The elderly Hadara bathed her forehead with wet clothes, hoping to bring down the fever. Ideh, her daughter, stood by.

" Any change?" Hadara's wrinkled face did not change, but her voice wobbled slightly as she replied,

" She is worse." Ideh's eyes filled with tears for her friend.

" She has magic from The Mother...cannot she heal herself?" Hadara turned to her daughter,

" Any gypsy with the magic can heal...and we know that Hinda can heal herself. But...I don't think she can...not after..." Ideh nodded as murmured,

" Yes, the news from the other farm...Hershel-"

" Was a foolish young man, acting like a child!" Ariza, Hinda's mother's friend, interrupted angrily from the doorway of the wooden long house type building. " It was the news of his death that is killing her!" Hadara sighed quietly and poured a mouthful of syrup into her patient's mouth, hoping that a third dose would help.

" Those herbs won't help, Hadara! She has lost the will to live! Her husband is dead, and in her heart she lives no more. It is only her body that is alive, and even that is fading." Ariza's face was wet with tears and she left, saying over her shoulder, " You'd best let her die in peace...with the knowledge that her husband has killed her!" Ephram, a close friend of Hershel, winced at the woman's harsh words and voice. He stood beside Hinda's cot and shook his head.

" Fool. He could have stayed another fortnight and held his wife again, instead he tries to escape and is torn to bits by dogs." Ephram turned and left, having paid his respects to his friend's wife.

Hadara and Ideh stayed with Hinda that night, as they had for the two nights before...as they had since Hinda had been told of her husband's death.

They sat with her, bathing her forehead and trying different herbs. The only person with magic who worked on their farm had tried many times to help, but Hinda's body was fighting against healing of any sort. Her body was dying, and her soul was too grieved to care.

The dawn broke over the fields, all nearly harvested. Suddenly, Hinda opened her eyes. She was alert, and she focused on old Hadara's face.

" Hershel? Where is Hershel?" Hadara opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn't. Even so, the sorrow in the old woman's eyes seemed enough of an answer. Hinda's once lively green eyes dulled and she murmured softly, her voice filled with despair,

" Then I must die too..."

Hinda closed her eyes one last time...never to open them again.

The sun rose steadily in the sky, illuminating the fields, the edge of the forest. A single figure staggered onto the field...his leg bloody and full of gore. Hershel's eyes blazed with a determined light as he limped unsteadily towards the long house.

By evening two graves, dug side by side had appeared on the edge of a nearby forest. Ephram had spent the day carving a single headstone from fallen wood, and the words and wood were enchanted to last until the Kingdom of Arulanthu was no more.

It read as follows:

Hershel and Hinda

Husband and Wife,

Gypies.

Born in 1240 and 1239

Died in 1264,

Still loving the other.


Posted on August 8th, 2oo5