A/N: Yeah, here's the next one. I hope the last chapter wasn't too much of a downer, towards the end. Also, this is the last day I have before –sort of – going on vacation, where I'm not sure if I'll have time/ a chance to write/update, so I figured I'd give ya'll this chapter too. Hope you like it!
Thanks for the reviews; sarafine-ecleips, Moored Mermaid. (Please see bottom for comments.^.^)
Francesca was not a coward by nature. Though she believed that many problems would solve themselves if the situation was not antagonized, there was a time and place for everything. At first, she had seen no point in reporting, or attempting to pay the boys who'd attacked her back, now however, after one of them had pushed her off a cliff that may have very easily killed her, Francesca felt it was time to push back. She also realized that her friends would want to help, and that was another issue she'd have to deal with.
She was not surprised to receive no letter from either of her parents, though the training master had sent word to them of her accident. She'd not been back in the capital two weeks before Aiden came upon her with she practiced her unarmed combat in the free hours of the summer.
"You're not going to quit, are you?" he asked after watching her in silence for some time.
"No, I'm not," Francesca stopped to look at her brother. She could see the concern shinning in his eyes. As much as it shamed her to admit it, she was glad that it was there.
"You could have died," he pointed out, as if she didn't realize it.
"And so could you," she returned. "When you fought in the north, or the next time the Own goes after bandits, or goes to help some village during a landslide, or some such. Should either one of us hide and cower because we may die?"
"When are you going to tell mother and father?" Francesca bit her lip; Aiden didn't know how poor her relationship with their parents was, as he was often busy with the Own.
"They already know, Lord Padraig sent a letter to inform them," she said, careful to keep her voice light and even.
"And," Aiden prompted.
Francesca shrugged, "I haven't heard anything from them," she responded without meeting his eyes.
After a pause, Aiden asked, "When was the last time you heard from them?"
"Father sent a letter last summer," Francesca replied, neglecting to mention that the 'letter' had been barely two words. Her relationship with her father wasn't all that unusual, as many fathers treated their daughters as disappointments, or viewed them as their wives' or mothers' problem.
"And mother," Aiden prompted again, Francesca thought that he was beginning to see where it was going.
"A few years, at least." She told him after thinking for a moment. "Since I first mentioned wanting my shield, I think."
"I'm sorry," Aiden said quietly.
"Why," Francesca asked, gently. "We both know the type of daughter that mother wanted. I've never been that daughter, more than that, after I was born she was unable to have more children, she's always blamed me for that, even when I was a baby. I learned very early on, that if I can't please someone, I must be content with being happy with my choices."
Aiden smiled at her. "You're older than you've a right to be." He said it in a light, teasing way, but to Francesca it merely reminded her of her struggle to live without being ruled by her visions. It wasn't long after that that Aiden left to do whatever it was that Sergeants in the King's Own did when they weren't in the field.
Shortly after lunch, Francesca went for a short ride to let Night stretch her legs. When she let the mare run, the speed she could achieve always took Francesca's breath away for a moment. They stopped by a stream to let Night drink, and so Francesca could think.
She needed to deal with those four pages, but confronting them all at once was stupid. They youngest page, Oswel of Irenroha, would be the easiest target. The others were now fourth-year pages, and her instincts were saying that she should stay out of their way. She was brought from her musings, when Night, who'd been grazing, lifted her head and nickered at someone who was on the path.
Lady Knight Keladry along with the young boy, who appeared to be a servant of some sort, seemed just as surprised as she was. What surprised Francesca even more was when Night danced over to the boy, acting like a foal.
After a few seconds of patting and murmuring to the horse, the boy looked at her. "You should exercise her more."
Francesca was confused for a moment when it hit her. "The horse boy," she muttered to herself. To the knight and boy she replied. "I wish I had more time to. I take her for a run every chance I get, but," she grimaced and made a 'what can you do', gesture. "Page training does not allow you much free time."
The boy and knight both started when Rain seemed to drop into the saddle from nowhere; Night, used to this merely flicked her tail. The strawberry roan the knight rode, eyed both Rain and Night, as though he considered attacking. Rain hissed at the gelding, and launched himself at Francesca.
She caught him without effort, though he was defiantly growing, she looked down at the now, nearly grown male bobcat. "I think you're getting fat," she told him, he bared his teeth in response. Glancing at the knight, Francesca saw the she had a small smile on her face.
"It's Francesca of Nond, right?" the lady knight asked with a smile.
"Yes, my lady. It is kind of you to remember me." She hesitated then added. "I'd bow, but then Rain would get fussy."
Keladry chuckled and handed her reins to the boy who stood next to her; he led the roan and the piebald he'd been riding to the stream to drink.
"I heard you'd gotten a bump on the head during the training camp," the older woman said. "All fixed now?"
Francesca wondered for a moment how the lady had heard, then answered. "Yes my lady. If you don't mind my asking, how did you know?"
"Sir Nealan, the healer who'd seen to you, felt the need to inform me. Something about it being proof, that anyone who tries for their shield having something wrong with their head." Francesca vaguely remembered a rant along those lines, but that entire time was fuzzy in her memory. "Was the person who pushed you named?"
"What makes you think someone pushed me," Francesca asked. "The edge of the cliff could have crumbled."
"True, but when you admitted to being push in front of a healer, a squire, and the Shang Wildcat," she let the rest of the sentence hang.
"I had a head wound," Francesca replied with a false earnest expression that she's master in the convent. "You can hardly trust the word of someone with a head wound, they speak nonsense."
The lady knight threw her head back and laughed. "However," Francesca continued. "Everyone present at the time of the…accident, received punishment work, and other penalties. I don't remember all of them."
"I also hear that you saved two senior pages lives your first year by sewing up wounds."
Francesca felt herself and responded before she could stop the words. "You hear everything don't you."
"People talk," Keladry responded. "They talk even more when a page stiches up the wounds of two others, with more skill than many novice healers, and nothing to numb the pain. It's an impressive feat, even when you don't consider that those two pages would have died if you hadn't acted." Francesca felt her face become hotter.
"I did what anyone else would do," she protested.
"You'd be surprised how many people wouldn't though," she told the younger girl quietly. "You're parents are likely very proud of you."
Francesca tried to smile at the women. She couldn't understand how everyone she spoke to today seemed to bring up her parents. "Perhaps, my lady. Please excuse me, I must get back." Standing Francesca bowed, mounted Night and left.
Francesca stopped by the palace stables to give Snowstorm an apple, on a whim, and saw Alan and Lord Raoul tilting. Remembering the vision of tilting, Francesca shuddered. The smash of lance on shield looked painful; she did not envy Alan at all. Judging by the look of their mounts, they'd been at it for a while. Francesca leaned against the fence and watched, offering Night an apple that she'd kept in her pocket, biting into a second one herself. When they finished she walked over to Alan, he looked pounded.
"You look horrible," she told him cheerfully. He gave her a sour look. After a moment concern lightened his gaze and Francesca scowled. Had everyone heard about the fall? "Don't," she warned him.
"Don't what," he demanded as they walked towards the stables.
"Don't ask if I'm alright. Would I be walking around if I wasn't?"
"Yes, because you're stubborn. I'm certain that if you hadn't broken your arm, then you wouldn't have even of considered going to the healers after you got pounded last year."
Francesca let the last go without comment; clearly Fianola had told him of her head wound induced confession. "Healers have to be approved by the training master," was all she said in response.
The look Alan gave her implied that she'd just made his point, she was about to make a sarcastic comment, when she noted worry in his face. "I something wrong," she prodded gently.
Alan hesitated, before telling her. "My sister, my twin, is missing. My mother and the king, even uncle Numair have tried scrying for her. They can't find her."
Francesca felt her eyes widen. "I'm so sorry," she hesitated for a second before her asked. "Do they think that she's…"
Alan shook his head firmly. "She's alive and safe, I know that much. We always know when the other is in trouble." He seemed to want to add something but didn't.
Guessing what he wanted to say, Francesca answered his unspoken question quietly. "If I knew anything, or…discover something, you'll be the first to know." The gratitude in his eyes warmed her heart. She left after that. As she rode back to the townhouse at a leisurely pace she thought about Alan.
If she could control her visions, she'd do what she could to help him find his sister. After all he'd been a good friend to her. Aisha would like him; of course she'd also tease Francesca for befriending the handsome squire. But why wouldn't she befriend him? He was kind, funny, handsome…
She was so shocked by the directions of her thoughts that she pulled Night to a halt. Of course when she'd first met Alan she'd noticed that he was handsome, but she had noticed it in passing. She'd never put stock in looks anyway. Joren of Stonemountain had been, without a doubt, the most handsome man she's ever seen, yet he was also a horrid person. Before meeting him, Francesca admitted to herself, she'd associated beauty with kindness. Now she knew better. So why was she thinking of Alan's looks as though they were important? As though she was some empty-headed lady who was after a husband, or at least a knight to flirt with?
The obvious answer smacked her in the face, leaving her appalled. She'd had crushes before, so she knew the signs of a budding crush.
Well, she thought, disgusted with herself. This won't do. Not at all, he's my friends for Shakith's sake. I'll just not let it get any farther. With that decided she continued back to her home.
That evening, after dinner, but before the sun had set, Francesca visited the Temple District in Corus. She slipped into the temple and knelt in one of the front pews; head bowed and lowered the hood of her cloak. She sat there for a long time. Finally, after working up the courage, she did something that she'd once sworn never to do. She prayed to Shakith, goddess of seers, to give her a vision.
Please, Shakith, she thought to the goddess. I need to know more about what is to come. About the event that I must prevent. And I would like to help Alan's family. Please, share with me the knowledge I need.
"So mote it be," Francesca mumbled when she finished. Wetting her lips, she hurried from the temple. She was in such a rush, that she forgot to pull her hood back on, nor did she notice a man on the street, though he noted her.
The tall man wondered why a girl her age would be hurrying from the temple, and why she looked fearful that someone would see her. He followed her for two reasons. One was that she seemed genially fearful, and he was curious as to why. The other was that she was heading in the same direction he was. She never realized that he was behind her, and while he made no attempt to hide, nor did he try to catch her attention.
His thought that she looked of noble birth was confirmed as she turned a corner and he heard a voice call out.
"Lady Francesca," he turned the same corner and saw that the speaker was one of three women, dressed like servants, he didn't pay attention to the conversation as someone else had caught his attention.
"What are you doing here, Da?" Alan asked his father, clearly surprised. "I thought you were at home. Did you find Aly?"
George Cooper, Baron of Pirate's Swoop, shook his head at his younger son. "Nay, but I haven't stopped looking. I'll find her. What are you doing here?"
He son shrugged. "My lord told me that tomorrow I have free to do what I want, I was going to ask a friend if she wanted to spar with me."
When George raised his eyebrows and asked why he didn't just send a note, Alan flushed but didn't answer.
An animalistic snarl had George swinging towards the sound; he instinctively settled into a fighting stance, two of his hidden knives seemed to appear in his hands.
The sound came from a bobcat, and drew the attention of the four women. The one he'd followed from the temple strode forward, completely unafraid. George couldn't help but be impressed.
"Enough, Rain," the girl ordered, following the animal's gaze to him. Her eyes were narrowed, suspicious, when she saw Alan; she raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. The three other women moved up behind her, one actually reached out to the creature.
She looked at George, "Why were you following her?" he couldn't figure out how she'd known until the bobcat hissed, drawing his attention.
Putting his knives away, he asked. "Is it going to attack?"
The lady scowled. "That depends," she answered calmly.
"On?"
"Why you were following me, and if you attack first." She paused and added. "Also who you are and how long you followed me." George found that this girl remained him a bit of Alanna.
"Francesca," Alan cut in, sounding exasperated. "This is my Da."
The girl nodded coolly. "Well, my lord Baron, your chances of being attacked have dropped. I tend to discourage attacks on my friends' parents." George couldn't help but laugh.
"I wasn't following you," he told her. "I was heading in this direction. You just happened to be ahead of me."
She seemed to weigh his response before nodding. "Then please forgive my rudeness." She nudged the bobcat, which had yet to stop growling. "Quiet you. Or I'll chop you into tiny pieces and feed you to the first stray I see." The bobcat gave George one final hiss, before leaping into the girls' arms.
"Are you a wild mage," he asked, curious.
"Not even remotely," she answered in a dry tone. He noted with interest that she seemed mildly uncomfortable now. "If you'll please excuse us, we've got to return home."
She made the exit so swiftly that George forgot to ask something he'd meant to. Alan shook his head ruefully.
"Sometimes, I forget that she went to the convent, and then she does something like that to remind me. Were you really following her, Da?"
"Sort of," he admitted. "Do you know why she may have visited Shakith's temple?"
He saw in his son's face that he did know, even before he answered. "No clue."
George, though intrigued, decided that there were more important things to focus on. Like finding his daughter.
That evening, Francesca's dreams were vivid and frighteningly real.
She was on a boat. Pirates had kidnapped her.
She was in a slave pen; she got into a fight, broke her nose and scared her face. No one would but her as pleasure slave now. She needed to get out, get home.
From where, part of her screamed. The knowledge hit her. The Copper Isles.
The dream changed.
She was in the Great Hall, King Jonathan and Queen Thayet looked…regal, was the only word for it. Sir Raoul and Buri looked content, their attention mainly on the children that sat around them at their table. The wild mage held one, a young boy, while Numair held the girl, gently bouncing her on his knee.
Roald and Shinkokami were talking with the ambassador from Scanran, while a representative from the Copper Isles listened. They were to act a mediators, which Francesca found ironic, since the peace with the Copper Isles was only a year or so old.
Looking around the hall she saw Lady Alanna, and Baron George talking with Lady Keladry. One of the sergeants from the King's Own watched the second Lady Knight, trying and failing – at least in Francesca's opinion – to be inconspicuous. She was more amused than she should be, she knew. She saw Fianola talking with Sir Nealan and his wife, Yukimi, while holding their child.
Beside her Alan laughed at something Liam said, but she wasn't paying attention. One of the members of the Scanran party kept looking towards the wild mage and Master Numair. She was about to ask her friends if they noticed it – she didn't know why but something about it made her uneasy.
Time suddenly seemed to slow, and the world seemed thrown into sharper focus, every detail, no matter how small, was suddenly clear.
Watch, Francesca would have shuddered, or cowered or even fled in fear if she could. But she was frozen in place. Watch, so that you can stop it. The horrible voice was loud in her mind, her bone vibrated with the force. Unable to fight it, Francesca watched as the slaughter took place. So quickly so easily lives were ended. And by such a person...who would suspect it? How could she stop it?
Francesca came awake choking on a sob. She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths. When she finally felt calmer she cataloged her dreams, which she remembered perfectly. A chill ran down her spine as she realized that somehow she'd had a vision in her sleep. She knew were Alan's sister was.
She rubbed her arms and eased out of bed, and began to pace. Finally, she lit a candle and scrawled a quick note to Alan.
In the Copper Isles.
She didn't add more. She wouldn't need to and didn't dare besides. Now, how to get it to him. She was hesitant to give it in person, she didn't know why, but some instinct told her not to. Her eyes fell on Rain, who was watching her through half closed eyes. Oh, why not, she though wearily. I've got nothing to lose. She walked over to Rain the note folded in her hand.
"Rain, may I ask a favor?" She didn't feel as stupid as she thought she would. Though she knew that he'd just as likely ignore her. Rain flicked his short tail, as if telling her to continue. "Would you take this to Alan?" she placed the note in front of him, so that he could choose. "Please," she added for good measure.
The bobcat studied her for a moment. Suddenly he thrust his face against hers, rubbing for a moment. He turned just as suddenly and plucked the note up in his mouth and bounded out the window that she always kept open slightly for him.
Satisfied that she could do no more for tonight, Francesca blew out the candle and tried to go back to sleep.
Alan was woken suddenly, be something dropping onto his stomach. Something heavy. Instinctively he grabbed it, and found fur. The thing slipped off his stomach and prodded him with a paw. Stumbling to his feet he quickly lit a candle, and turn to find Rain cleaning himself on his bed.
Alan stared incredulously at the bobcat. As if realizing that he had Alan's attention, the bobcat nudged a piece of paper towards him. If he hadn't grown up around Daine, Alan would have found it eerie. As soon as the squire took the paper, Rain slipped through the window that Alan decided he would close before bed now, no matter how hot.
Opening the paper he found four words written in Francesca simple handwriting.
It took him a moment, but he understood the note. All thoughts of sleep were banished. He needed to figure out how to tell his Da where to look, without reviling Francesca's help.
A/N: In reply to a couple review… Sarafine-ecleips: I'm actually glad that SOMEONE else found that funny, when I wrote that I felt very clever. Also, on a slightly unrelated note, I WILL one day be able to type your name, WITHOUT looking at it on FF, correctly.
Moored Mermaid: First off, thanks for following/ favorite-ing the story! Secondly, I was tempted to make Francesca tell him, and she may still, but the reason she didn't is because she's scared that she won't be able to. She's spent most of her life knowing that things were going to happen, and being unable to stop it. She HATES feeling useless because of that. Due to that she doesn't want to tell anyone about what she saw. She doesn't want to make her friends – or even her worst enemies – feel helpless against things they can't control. Also, then all of you lovely readers would know what EXACTLY happens in the prophecy and who the killer is – and I'm not sure that I'm quite ready for that.