On top of Cloud 9: i know! I hate making Kyra and Serrina's story so sad, but hopefully it'll cheer up soon.
Jessi: thanks for the info, which characters do you feel need to be developed more? so far, i've been giving hints of their pasts. and i'll work on description-detail as much as i can.
Zerrin of the wind: oh,i can't to get to finally do the scene where you all find out who 'he' is. I've got the vague plans of how it will turn out.
Spectral Lady: glad you're enjoying this story! i've always been striving to make it as original as i possibly can, but Kyra was a complete surprise to me, as was herpoor mother!
Chapter 10
Was that a thief? Kyra craned her neck to see, so eager that she almost fell from her mare, "Quickgold!" she yelped and the richly golden mare halted and turned its head to eye her wickedly as she scrambled back into the saddle, her mouth still upturned in an avid grin, her eyes fascinated by the marketplace.
"Come along," Alanna said briskly, bringing her impatient gelding Darkmoon up alongside her, "let's get there sometime before dark, Kyra!"
Smiling sheepishly, Kyra obeyed, guiding Quickgold back into the throng of citizens, her eyes ranging over stalls decked with bright cloth. The streets clamoured with noise and the twanging of instruments, the jingle of dancers' bells, the roar of drunken laughter spilling from the brightly-lit taverns lining their paths.
"I'd hoped we'd get back before the festival," Alanna muttered, shooting a dark glance at a mud-splashed woman whose gaudily dressed children were trying to play tag around Darkmoon's hooves, much to the gelding's annoyance. The woman bustled her children away, giving Alanna an embarrassed look, and the lady knight relaxed.
"Well, well!" Swaying, a pot-bellied man with a scrubby beard and yellow teeth leaned against a wall and watched the group of soldiers. His eyes came to rest on Kyra, who fidgeted nervously then forced herself to look him in the eyes.
"A spitting image of her da," the drunk said, spat on the floor and burst out laughing raucously.
"Ah," Alanna then said a swear word and moved Darkmoon up alongside Kyra's mare, "come on, girl!"
"Yes, Alanna," Kyra hastily nudged Quickgold's sides and the mare willingly resumed her path through the crowds that parted at the sight of soldiers decked in uniform of the King's Own.
Not that they could be called part of the King's Own. They were a private party, sent to fetch Kyra, but the silver armour and the blue cloth, with the reputation of the King's Own, they could easily move more swiftly, unharried by the realm's more petty rules.
"I will get to look in the marketplace, won't I?" Kyra pleaded Alanna, her eyes still dizzily taking in the stalls decked with colourful cloth and bulging with goods: fresh fruit, shimmering metalwork tools, gorgeous jewellery, fantastic weapons...
"Some other time," Alanna said firmly as they carried on down the street towards the looming palace.
"Alanna!" a voice roared.
Alanna looked around, then grinned gladly. "You big ox!" she called cruelly. "I thought you'd be hiding somewhere with Buri!"
"Och, no," he protested, striding through.
Kyra stared at how tall and broad a man he was. He had to be a giant!
"Put your eyes back in your head," Raoul joked at her and she blushed fiercely, almost hiding her face in Quickgold's mane.
"Kyra of Conte," Alanna murmured, "meet Sir Raoul. Now let's get moving. We're nearly there."
He was only still for a second, gazing at Kyra almost quizzically, before swinging back into action and turning back towards the palace. The soldiers, Alanna and Kyra rode a little faster, as fast as the crowds would allow them, towards the sun-dappled white walls of the castle, where flags of the monarchy fluttered and flew in the breeze.
"So this is what Da wanted," Kyra whispered, wondering if she would finally really understand why her dad would risk so much, why he'd destroyed her life before she was even born. Again, she wished Serrina was here to explain things: already she felt out of her depth, lost in this vast city. Serrina would have swiftly pointed out things, reeled off a few ledw facts to make them both laugh, and have borne Kyra's questions patiently.
Instead Serrina was half a mile away, standing in the yard behind her beloved sister, Lasha's, home, my home, she thought, figuring that the house was now hers, now that Lasha was... she shook her head, briefly finding it harder to breathe, tears pricking at her eyes. Now that Lasha was dead. It took bravery of a new sort to be able to admit that as she crept through the haphazard yard, sitll untidy from the presence of the raiders who had murdered Lasha.
The back door was locked, but she plucked a hair pin from her head of mousy hair, stroking her hair back impatiently and picked the lock with the hairpin, slipping into the empty kitchen. A fire burnt low but fiercely in the hearth, a stewpot suspended in there from a sturdy iron hook. Heat from the fire, heating the stewpot's contents made the stewpot's iron lid clatter, bubbles leaking out over its black iron rim.
Someone had been living here! She whirled to see if anyone was watching her, but the kitchen was empty, utterly empty.
A squatter! She thought, outraged and stormed through the kitchen. "Reveal yourself!" she screamed up the stairs, casting out her senses.
"Lady Serrina!" Scrambling up from the chair she'd been slumped over asleep in, Dora hurriedly cast a curtsey.
"Dora!" Astounded, Serrina stared at her dead sister's old housekeeper. "I told you to go to your sister's!"
"Oh, I started to leave," Dora said, her plump lips quivering, "but I couldn't! Not while I knew you were rushing Goddess knows where with that awful wound in your side! I had to wait and see that you were alright."
Serrina calmed down and lifted her shirt slightly to show her mostly-healed belly. "See?" she told Dora. "I even got personal attention from the Lioness. Nice, eh?"
"You talk like a thief," Dora said rudely.
"I am a thief," Serrina said mildly.
"You're a noble thief," Dora protested. "There's plenty of differences!" Brushing her large, callused hands down her flour-streaked skirts, Dora headed out to the kitchens. "You shall have something to eat," she said briskly. "Come along, Lady Thief Serrina."
"Trying to look after me," Serrina had to laugh, "just like you looked after Lasha."
"I looked after you when you were nowt but a babe," Dora retorted. "I'll never understand why your da encouraged you to play in the gutters. Thank goodness he let Lady Lasha be brought up by proper women!"
"I know how to act like a lady," Serrina said calmly, watching, fighting not to lick her lips as Dora swung the cauldron from above the fire, and began ladling thick, steaming stew into bowls for the two of them.
"Cut some bread," Dora ordered. "Ooh, I never got to boss Lasha around!" she said happily as Serrina obeyed. Serrina laughed. "Don't get used to bossing me around, Dory."
Dora went bright red at the use of her nickname. "Now, Serrina Miranda Sandra Keller..."
Serrina gave her a dirty look. Dora laughed and watched Serrina in a pleased way as the thief lady dined.