AN: So here's chapter four, a little introduction of the new characters. I hope you'll like them. Reviews are always welcome, I'd like to know what you think about this, the character, the story. I'd especially like to thank Aldryne21 and BriefShiningMoment for their wonderful, kind and encouraging words. It means a lot to me to know you're enjoying this story.
Chapter 4 – The Agreement
"Please Mylord, tell me more about what happened after the boy had escaped! I've been dying to know since the first guests walked in." She laughed merrily, and with a twinkle in her eyes she glanced at the boy who sat quietly at the end of the table.
Count Rathar followed her gaze that landed on the silent youth whose life had been hanging in the balance only days ago, and who hadn't said much since they had delivered him to the safety of Tournai, their homeland.
"Well, Mylady, it was a gallant and tricky business, and very funny at the same time. Sichar disguised himself as a bounty hunter. But it's certainly not my…" Suddenly he was cut off by a big snort that came from a particularly handsome and huge fellow who sat on the other side of the Lady, and was sleeping, his head hanging on his chest almost as if he would fall from his chair any moment. The two counts and the lady laughed gayly at the sight, before Rathar ended his sentence loudly. "…coward and always sleepy friend here who should get the credit for it." Silence followed but the previously snoring man still did not wake.
"Come on, Sichar, quit being rude in front of our beloved princess, we're alone now and in good company." Count Bertram said, who sat beside Rathar and the princess.
A large room that had been packed with guests the whole evening was now bathed in silence. The candles almost burned out in the enormous chandelier that hung from the ceiling, their light burning low casting long shadows everywhere. The tables were still full of the cold, leftover food and cups half full of wine. The gathering had been held by the king in honour of his second son's 26th birthday, but the last guest had bidden his farewell minutes ago, leaving only the king's daughter, her few close friends and the Briton fugitive behind.
Count Sichar de Lamain, who until that point had pretended to be asleep, slowly opened his heavy lids and looked curiously at his comrades, a smile already playing at the corner of his lips.
"Go on, tell Her Royal Highness all of your bravery. You don't need me for that. Pray, continue!" He said in his deep, slow and playful tone that rang pleasantly through the room.
Usually Sichar loved to feign being asleep. Not because he was rude, but all that talk and no action bored him out of his mind, and besides the seven days long journey home through dangerous territory took a lot out of him. But God forbid anyone knowing about that.
As the night wore on his companions tried on more than one occasion to engage him in conversation though with little success. These were those very rare nights when troubling thoughts and fatigue took the better of him, and he wanted nothing more than the comfort of his own bed.
"Oh, I would give half of my jewellery to have seen the look on Uther's face when he found out!" Princess Hilde clapped her hands in excitement. In truth she would have sold all her jewellery to just once be a part of anything her friends took part in. „That man's a true tyrant if I've ever seen one."
"Forgive me, Mylady, allow me to remind you, you've never seen him. And I hope you won't be holding it against me if I correct you. You haven't ever seen a true tyrant. Uther is not even close to one." Sichar interjected.
"I'll say." Rathar laughed as he filled his own cup, since the help had taken to their beds already. "He's making damn good progress."
Princess Hilde looked at the man bewildered. He was tall, -a giant compared to all men she knew-, and had shoulder-length blond hair probably due to his gaul heritage, and generally very pleasing to women's eyes, hers included, but very few people knew his true personality and the wits that lay under the facade. He was a natural leader, one that should be listened to, but the words he had just said sounded unbelievable to her ears.
"Surely you don't mean that, Mylord. Uther's been slaughtering our kind for decades now without reason. Only a tyrant would do such a thing, and his people are weak to let him get away with all that."
"Our kind, Your Highness, had caused him great pain which is not an easy thing to forgive. I wouldn't justify his actions, I'm only pointing out that his people frown upon the likes of us, and not many would find fault in his views. They only see a strong leader who brought prosperity and peace to their previously war-torn land. It's more than they had hoped for. Few people are complaining, and those who'd want to, wouldn't dare."
The levity of his tone only underlined the severity of his words and he had no intention to scare the beautiful girl who had become a trusted ally to them in the last few years. In truth, everyone was fond of her for her genuineness and her intrepidity against anyone who wanted to put her into her place, especially her brothers.
"Wouldn't dare?" She asked, her brow rose and her little mouth was drawn into a thin line. "We're on the same page then. Fear. Only a tyrant would provoke fear in the hearts of his subjects."
The blond count only smiled at her knowingly. He wasn't about to lose his own argument.
"Yes, Mylady, fear has a proper place in the bosom of all who got the gift. But their numbers are getting fewer by year, and those who willingly choose to stay are taking a great risk."
His gaze landed first on Bertram then on Rathar who both had been looking back and forth, listening eagerly to their friendly debate, but at this point they had uncertainty in their eyes. Sichar knew the meaning of that. He himself had had his doubts recently about Uther's ways, because the number of executions had increased drastically, and with that also had the number of false accusations.
In Tournai, to those who were trained to use magic from early childhood, the first trick that was taught was the parlour trick of telling the gifted and the non-gifted apart. A small but certainly useful thing Uther would have surely liked to learn if he had known how to use it. All it took was a small touch on bare skin and a deep look into their eyes and it became obvious even if the magic lay dormant not even revealed to the person who had it.
That tall, young boy with the black hair who had seen them rescuing that poor youth had magic. Sichar had sensed it the moment he had grabbed his arm. It had been flowing through his veins steadily and strongly under the count's fingers. And his eyes though not glowing at the moment had had that unmistakably unnatural shine to them. Whoever he was, he was dangerously close to the snake's nest. Sichar wouldn't be surprised if he were the next one that needed saving.
The tinkling voice coming from beside him roused him from his depressing thoughts.
"I'm sorry, I want to believe in your words, desperately so, but I have difficulty. You just have to prove me wrong."
"Gladly." He nodded dreamily, already thinking about his manor in Lamain still a few leagues away waiting for him with a warm a comfortable bed, and he hadn't been prepared to see Hilde's mouth turning up into a smirk.
She wanted to see that prosperity, sure, but it wasn't what she was really after. She gracefully rose from her seat.
"I bid you goodnight, Mylords, and I'm hoping to find myself in your company soon enough, for a lady's heart is always eager to know if she's in the right."
With a tiny bid of her head she quietly exited the room, leaving the men behind in stunned silence.
Sichar played the last part of their conversation in his head again and again and was confused. He could smell a trick from a distance and he had a vague suspicion that he had been played.
"What did I just agree to?" He asked his friends uneasily who in turn burst out laughing.
"You know, my friend," Started Rathar, who hadn't spoken since he had recounted their latest adventure to the princess. "you're the most cunning man I know. I really admire your wits, you're a genius at war strategy but when it comes to women you can be completely clueless."
"You most certainly wouldn't mind bringing the princess along with us to Camelot on our next visit." Bertram joined in, and they laughed merrily at the sight of their friend's startled expression.
The blond man didn't know what to say for a moment, he just cursed his own fatigue and stupidity inwardly. He had no intention to admit that he was beguiled by a woman and he was a man of his word.
"It will be a pleasure." He said tensely as he raised his cup in a toast. "To the bravest princess who's putting her head in the lion's mouth."
They all drank to that but the conversation ceased so they all bade goodnight to each other and started on their respective journeys home.
Sichar only prayed that Hilde would forget his promise, but he didn't think she would.
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