Writing this chapter was like having a tooth pulled. But perhaps the next will flow easier.
Karigan slowly stretched her neck as she braced both hands on her lower back. Sara had assisted her in preparing for bed and was now quietly picking up soiled articles of clothing to send to the laundry maids. It was a rather peaceful summer night; almost blissfully cool in comparison to the weeks before, which had seen day after day of unbearable humidity. In a fit of pique, she had moved several of her belongings into Zachary's room. Her original intent several weeks before was to catch the northerly breeze while she slept, but in truth she preferred the comforting trappings of the room that they had so often shared.
Now freshly washed and swathed in a soft robe, she contentedly rested in the upholstery chair by the open window. A soft breeze issued throughout the room, carrying the scent of the grassy plains as it teased at the draperies of the canopied bed. With her eyes closed and feet propped, she laid her head back and drew slow circles over her belly with her fingertips. The absence of her husband notwithstanding, Karigan felt a measure of peace at that particular moment in time. Being off her feet and at a more comfortable temperature brought her a simple pleasure.
Karigan suppressed an amused snort at her pattern of thoughts, idly wondering when the tough-as-nails Rider came to appreciate such things as fluffy pillows for ones feet and a comfy chair. She leaned her head forward and opened her eyes, casting a quick look over at her old trunk. Her clean uniforms and saber rested inside, a sort of bittersweet reminder of how quickly she switched one role for another. But, the thought of her impending motherhood was not as daunting as she had initially surmised. In addition, she came to the realization that her career as a Rider was not over, merely placed on hold until she learned to adequately juggle. She shrugged and closed her eyes in peace once more, more than happy to let those worries wait for another day as she tugged a small throw over her lap.
Sara gave a small affectionate smile at the young Queen before bobbing a small curtsey, and closing the door upon her departure. She nodded in greeting to Brienne, who was on her way in with a small stack of correspondence. With her armload of clothing in hand, she set through the quiet, darkened corridors towards the lower levels of the castle, humming gently to the open air. If she thought the lack of activity in the normally bustling corridors to be odd, she dismissed the notion and continued on her way.
Brienne placed the pile of letters on an open table and glanced at the sleeping form of her queen, who had curled into an armchair. She softly treaded over to Karigan and gently tucked the loose ends of her blanket around her shoulders, giving a slight shiver as she felt the early evening breeze usher in. With the window closed securely, she added a log to the fire before she sank into a chair. With her ears attuned to the hallway, she settled in for the evening and kept watch over her charge.
Amberhill stalked past the pair of servants that he had dispatched, a young maid and an elderly steward, moving quickly upwards with his small squad of soldiers dispersed around him. The narrow stairwell opened into a small landing that presented two doors on either side. He tilted his head questioningly to the side and glanced back at one of his men, who pointed to the left in confirmation. Amberhill started forward with three of the men and gestured for the others to head back down the stairs. One of his men tentatively opened the left door and peaked around the edge, looking back to nod at his master and surge forward. A few moments later, a muffled scream was heard, followed by a dull thud as a body hit the flagstone.
Amberhill grinned and came through the doorway, stepping over the body of a particularly young man dressed in black, his eyes staring unseeingly towards the ceiling. It was unfortunate, he mused, that such mortal men were easily overpowered. His consciousness could barely recollect his own fallibility with any clarity. That existence and its former owner were securely cornered in his mind, along with the weaknesses of a once honorable man. Still, he thought as he nudged the body with a boot, this had to be at least the twentieth Weapon they had eradicated since they had arrived. Were these men not supposed to have a measure the extraordinary about them?
Another black-clad figure stalked across the stone corridor, his eyes registering the body then the small group of assailants. The Weapon took stock of the four intruders, the pool of blood forming under his slain brother, and the glowing eyes of the king's cousin. The four men, no things, surrounded him in the blink of an eye with their swords drawn. His reflexes and training would not be enough to hold his own against the malevolent power he saw simmering beneath the surface of Amberhill, or against that of the wraith-like soldiers that he commanded. Amberhill bared his teeth and cocked his head to the side, 'Come on then, boy, let us see what you are made of.'
The Weapon did not draw his sword, but kept his gaze even as he breathed deeply. After a quick glance down the hallway to the royal chambers, he seemed to come to a decision. Almost defiantly, he drew his chin in and bellowed a warning over his shoulder that echoed eerily throughout the upper levels of the castle. It was abruptly cut short as a blade was thrust into his chest, instantly taking the light from his eyes as he collapsed heavily to the ground.
Flake lifted her head from its resting place on her front paws and stared at the slightly ajar door of Laren's office. The captain lifted her head from a duty roster as her ears registered a faint scream. She looked down at Flake, who had been waiting patiently to be returned to her mistress after her nightly outdoor excursion. The terrier was now emitting a low growl in the back of her throat, her ears flattened against the top of her head as she stood up.
Frowning, Laren stood and shrugged on an over-tunic and buckled her saber on her hips. She came into the hallway and looked questioningly in both directions. There were a few other Riders, including Mara, in the vicinity who were wearing similar expressions of concern and confusion. They were taken back when Flake tore out of the office, her small paws moving frantically as she headed for the stairwells that led up into the castle.
The captain did not stop to ask questions as she ran after the canine, shouting over her shoulder at Mara to locate Donal in his office and raise an alarm.
Brienne had immediately scrambled to her feet when she heard what she recognized as a warning cry from an older Weapon named Jarvis, knowing that her two brothers-in-arms posted outside the door would likely not be enough. Her mind quickly ran through the implications of the danger that they were now in, of the countless guards that they must have slaughtered on their way here. She rushed forward and quickly bolted the door, locating the door plank from behind a tapestry to slide horizontally over the oak door.
Karigan stirred uneasily from her chair when she had heard Jarvis, blearily rubbing at her face as she attempted to quickly stand. She looked at Brienne questioningly, 'What has happened?'
Her query remained unanswered as they both heard the unmistakable sounds of clashing steel and cries of pain emitted from her guards. Brienne backed away from the door, drawing her blade, and positioning herself bodily in front of her queen, her eyes trained on the door as it quieted.
A heavy thud resonated against the door as a rhythmic pounding increased in intensity and frequency. The heavy oak door nearly came off its hinges as the unseen force pushed the mangled mass forward. It fell to the floor jarringly, discarded and ignored by the man who strode forward through the frame and eyed the pair of women consideringly with a deceptively charming smile.