Chapter8

AN. WANT REVIEWS! GIMME REVIEWS!

Sory, dn't mind tht i jst go md smetms. Aywy, I'm also crvin angelgroove's nme in gold cos she review, unlike some hinthint, so thnks absolutely loads 2 u cos I wz jst going in2 dispair agin cos no reves still 4 chptrs 4,6,7. So goin mad cos of tht, it realy bugs me wen it sys 104 hit, 8 reviews. GRRRRRRR!

Day of the festival, Amonsovn had found a large stag and had also caught quite a lot of other game for it, it was all everyone was talking about – what they were going to wear, who they hoped to dance with, the twins were just excited about staying up to crazy hours in the morning. Amonsovn had then spent the rest of the day helping to put up decorations in the large stone hall and preparing the food. They ate a hurried lunch and Amonsovn went off again. When she came back into the house she found Mirrendi looking terribly excited and staggering around with huge bundles. Her brother had arrived, was all Amonsovn managed to gather from the flustered squalling and he had brought a horse, Amonsovn had spent quite a while at the stable place, helping the blacksmith with the horses and mucking out and such like though she had never ridden any, they weren't her horses and there was only a few anyway. Amonsovn went to help her with the bundles. Mirrendi then shooed her off to the stables.

Bemused Amonsovn did as she was told. When she reached the old wood building behind the barns she found some very hassled stable hands rushing around looking desperate. In the middle of all this was the cause of the trouble. It was a huge chestnut stallion. It was rearing and bucking and kicking and biting, Deidaileius or Dei was desperately trying to hold on to the rope head collar while trying not to get too badly hurt.

This was not happening.

Amonsovn rushed in to help. Dodging flying hooves and gnashing teeth she snatched the rope and pulled down with all her might praying it would not break. Surprised by the new weight the vicious creature dropped onto all fours and promptly tried to bite off the offending hands. Amonsovn grabbed the wooden muck shovel leaning against the near by wall and brought it round with a smack on the creatures flanks. It stopped its mad flailing and eyed her suspiciously, it was up against a challenge and Amonsovn meant to win it and he knew it and did not like it one little bit. It surreptitiously began to lift a hoof, preparing for a good kick.

Thhuuwaaaakk!

The muck shovel swung round again.

"Right," said Amonsovn. "Now are you going to work with me or will I have to drag you every step of the way to the stable for you, because I will." She said defiantly. The chestnut glared at her sulkily, it seemed in submission, for now. There still seemed to be a mean glint in its eyes but it went with her into the stable. She slid the door shut behind it carefully.

"There." She said. "And you'd better behave yourself because I'll be back." She turned. Behind her the whole stable yard was peering fearfully around the corner.

"Your not dead." Said Dei in a blunt, almost insulted way.

"That's five coppers you owe me now Dei." Said Aphei stepping around the corner too.

"But that brute is a savage!" Dei protested. "She should never have been able to do that!"

"Have you seen her hunt? Have you seen what she can do!" Answered Aphei, "Maybe you ought to teach her to ride and see what she can do with the Brute then!"

"Ride him? Now that she could never manage. I've worked with horses most of my life and no one could stay on that horse until it's been better trained and no trainer in there right mind will go near that thing."

"Bet another five?"

"Done." Said Dei holding out his hand. They shook.

"We'd better get you riding then." Said Aphei turning to Amonsovn who was regarding the conversation uncomprehendingly. Aphei sighed.

"I'll explain." She told Dei.

Aphei spent a lot of the afternoon explaining the basics of horse riding to Amonsovn which was tricky due to her lack of vocabulary. Aphai then got out her small Arab and had Amonsovn tack it up and then take it all off again. Much later on Aphei finally aloud her to get on it. Amonsovn just sprang up from the ground, she could jump onto the Brutes back if she wanted to, although she would not do that when she did not know anything about horse riding as she did not have a death wish, so Aphei's grey mare was easy. Amonsovn then spent the remainder of the afternoon being bounced up and down at a trot. Amonsovn quickly got the hand of a walk but she was having difficulty finding the rhythm in trot, she could sense it there but she had not got the hang just yet.

Aphei was impressed, this would not take as long as she though. Amonsovn seemed to have a natural instinct to hang on with her knees, which was good, and she had already got the hang of steering with her legs. In a few days Aphei would have her cantering as if she had been doing it for years.

By the end of the afternoon a dirt streaked but happy Amonsovn returned with a pleased Aphei. Mirrendi promptly panicked and frog marched her off to the bath area while shouting reprimands across the house at Aphei, Amonsovn could tell what they were just by her tone of voice. Mirrendi dumped her unceremoniously in the tin bath and began pouring water over her head. Mirrendi made her close her eyes then dumped some strange substance in her hair and began rubbing it viciously into her scalp. A very pink and raw, yet sparklingly clean Amonsovn was finally ejected from the bath area with strict instructions not to do anything that might, possibly, get a speck of dirt on her again. Amonsovn felt like a small girl again as Mirrendi carefully managed to communicate to her the threat of being dumped back in the bath again.

Amonsovn went to her room and did some more sword exercises to pass the time. When Mirrendi had fixed the twins up she turfed Amonsovn out and attended to her clothes personally. Mirrendi then spent ages fussing about with her hair. It was normally scraped back into a long tail at the back but Mirrendi wanted to do something fancy. She tried a bun, she tried plats, she spent ages on absolutely everything. In the end she settled on a 'sprayed bun' which was a mixture of elegant coils in a lose bun type thing and curves and curls sprayed delicately around it. Finished. Mirrendi seemed quite pleased with the effect.

Mirrendi had then tried to make Amonsovn leave Sagiaturiaris behind. Amonsovn refused and would not listen to her protests. Amonsovn would not leave her last real link to her ancestral history behind, it stayed at arm's reach by her bed at night and was strapped to her back in the day. Mirrendi relented under Amonsovns cold gaze. There was something about her, Mirredni thought, that seemed cold, hard and angry. Normally she seemed a nice person but every now and again it would show through.

They went down into the hall. Feirthran was already there but Mirrendi sent him back to change his shirt as it had a tiny speck of mud on it. Aphei came down just before Feirthran returned. She was wearing a clingy, luscious, cream dress that accented her generous curves with her hair swept up to one side in a bronze clasp with a few elegant tendrils framing her face. Both Mirrendi and Aphei looked very nice.

"Our dear brother is 'taking his time'." Aphei announced. "Which really means is he was asleep and is trying to wake up. He says to go down to the hall and he'll see us there." Aphei pulled a face.

"Don't blame him." Muttered Feirthran coming down stairs with a dark blue-black shirt on, spotlessly clean of course.

"What was that?" said Mirrendi sharply.

"Ah, nothing!" Said Feirthran quickly. The twins sniggered. Feirthran glared at them good naturedly.

"Well, we'd better get going, we're a bit late already." Said Mirrendi pointedly and she swept out the door. Everyone followed with Feirthran pulling faces at her back.

Over in the stables the Brute was annoyed. He had no food left and all they had given him was a measly bit of old feed and some mangy old hay which was now sloshing pitifully around in the bottom of his immense stomach.

The village hall was a big affair and saved for special occasions only. There were beautiful drapes that had now been cleaned and repaired that had collected over the years and a long time ago everyone had banded together and paid for a gorgeous marble inlay on the floor with bright coulors and patterns all over it. Down the centre were two huge, long, wooden tables covered in some old embroidered cloths. One was smothered in foods and wines, the two master pieces of this table were the bull and Amonsovns stag. Eventually most would be gone from there and everyone would move to the second table which was smothered in desserts and more wines.

It was an enormous spread, everyone had contributed something, even the twins had spent a lot of their time in there working on the drapes and the tables. Everyone had also paid for an orchestra to come and play, although apparently they did this every year. Most people were just talking and nibbling on things, the dancing would not start till later and Amonsovn did not recognise any of the music, perhaps she could play her Piicsiliavn for them, the twins had begged her to and she had it with her in the small pockets she kept useful things in attached to the straps holding Sagiaturiaris. Amonsovn went over to a corner and sat down on the stone bench that jutted from the wall going all the way around the room. The drape she was sitting on was deep crimson and quite old with many repairs on its voluptuous fabric. She seemed to be attracting a lot of attention, everyone was staring at her.

There was now quite a lot of people in the room and the dancing was begining, it was getting rather crowded. Amonsovn wandered over to the table and gathered a few things to eat and then returned to her corner. She had never been good at socialising. The things she had know at home, she winced at the thought of home, had been spit roasted meat around an open fire followed by mad chaotic dances that got faster and more complicated as the night went on, blurred colours and wild music, intertwined rhythmic steps…

"Can you dance with that sword on you back?" The cheerful remark broke her bitter-sweet memories, never again would it be. She looked up. A young man around her age with short, scruffy, black hair had come over to her.

"I dance blades, me dance feet? Used to, don't know music here." She managed with a shrug. The man offered his hand,

"Try?" he asked, "It's not that hard."

She took it curiously and they went to the large space between the tables with the other dancers.

"My name's Jekl." He said.

"Amonsovn." she said, "Ara." She corrected.

She had been watching how the others danced and the orchestra was just starting up a new lively tune. The beat was strong and the rhythm good, she started to move with it. It was not so hard, nothing like the complex things they did at home. Used to. She winced again. The man looked at her quizzically.

"It nothing." She said quickly but he had seen the sadness there and was looking curious. She shook her head.

"Dance like this where you come from?" He asked.

"Came from. My home is no longer. We did nothing like this." She said gesturing with an arm.

"What was it like then." He asked.

"Oh, colour, drums. Everyone worked together in most. Com-ple-kated. Clap-ping, was fast and confusing. Loved it." She sighed. The pace was picking up now, she was quite enjoying it.

"Perhaps you could show us something." He asked.

"Maybe, not lot by self. Could try. Maybe teach you some."

"I'd like that."

"Could teach you blade dance too." She said mischievously with a grin.

"Maybe." He said uncertainly, "I wouldn't want to hurt you though."

"You hurt me? This blade run with men life blood, you should afraid I hurt you." She said with a harsh laugh. Jekl glanced at her. Who was she? Men life blood, she had killed men with that blade on her back, she was tall and muscular, her hair was bright gold, she would not wear dresses. Who on earth was she? Everyone was talking about her; he'd been the only one brave enough to talk to her.

He looked her over again, she was beautiful, he though. She should not be, but she was. She was too tall and scared and 'unfeminine' in general to be beautiful, but she was in her own way. Female beauty was not like her but although no one would admit it, all the other men were looking at him rather jealously. They were not supposed to find people like her attractive.

The Brute was chewing grumpily on the remains of his manger the rest of which was also now sloshing about in his unsatisfied stomach. Something bit him behind the ear. That was it he decided.

Amonsovn stared across the hall at the man entering. It was him. That face. The one she saw when she first saw Aphei. Their brother. The clash of metal filled her ears, the smell of burning flooded her senses, and the cries of the dieing innocents in amongst the flickering flames. The murderers of her people. And one stood before her, Sagiaturiaris was in her hands. Fury gripped her and red mist began to swirl across her vision.

The Brute let rip his pent up annoyance on his stable door. It did not last very long. The grumpy horse then charged out into the night.

Jekl watched in horror as Ara turned as if in a daze. He spoke to her but she did not seem to hear him. Her hand reached up to the sword on her back. The bluish blade flashed out. He leapt back, scared. A manic red glint had entered her eyes. She was heading straight for the doors. The people parted in front of her as she went. There was a man by the doors. He was staring at her in unsuppressed terror. Blades flashed.

The Brute was scavenging about for more food. In his stomach now was an old chair found in the yard used as a mounting block, a large amount of his stable, several bits of fencing and any other interesting things found lying around.

Jason stared. It was Her. The demon woman and her blade. Her, here! And she had seen him, she was coming for him! He grabbed his knife. The blade was flimsy compared to the great blade she wielded, with terrifying force and speed to. Desperately he dogged the thrumming blue blade. There was a large carving knife on the table. He made a grab for it, it would withstand the blows better than the knife. A searing pain ripped through his chest. He could not keep up with the blows reining down on him. There was more pain across his right arm and down his leg, he dropt the knife and fell to the floor, the demon and her blade filling his vision, the song of death thrumming in his ears.

Oh, Gods! Fates, any god or Goddess who might be watching, spare me! I will never go back to that boat, I'll never do anything like that again!

There was a loud crash. He blacked out.

Oh this was good, the Brute had found a nice grass verge. Even better, there seemed to be some type of vegetable patch past it. Some bird crowed loudly in the darkness. He jumped. Silhouetted against the sky was a strange, vaguely human shape flapping in the breeze. The Brute leapt out of his skin. Backwards. Into some doors. The wood unfortunately was not strong enough to support a large full grown draft cross stallion.

'Crrrrrraaaaaassssssssssssssssssssshhh'

"Oh bggr."

Thought the Brute irritably. He clambered up to his feet.

"Oh Bggr!"

He was nose to nose with the muck shovel woman. Worse she was looking mad and was holding something sharp and pointy and, he sniffed, yes. He could smell blood. There was blood on the pointy thing. Not good. His ears flopped guiltily. He lowered his nose.

"Opps, sorry."

He thought. The red light of madness faded from her eyes. And she stroked his nose briefly and led him back to his stable almost absent mindedly and she set about repairing his stable door.

Satisfied that things would run as planned Selene leaned back, her turn was finished.

AN. Quite a long chapter this. Now, what do I want you to do? Yes, I want you to REVIEW!