When the guard rushed out with the potion, Freyjin felt a wave of relief wash over her, "Thanks be to my goddess…" She whispered, with mute, watchful eyes in silent tension around her, wondering with uncertainty if she was poisoned or not.
Her relief was obvious the moment the vial was visible in the hand of the man running down the stone steps. Her drawn face flushed with relief and she hugged her body tightly, shaking off the fear she'd briefly felt of an ignominious death.
The guard approached, popped the cork, and made to dump it over her, only for one of the Questioners to speak. "That's the wrong potion, idiot!"
Freyjin's blue eyes went wide with sudden fear and she looked up at the vial he held, the guard's face froze with wide eyed shock, "But… this is a healing potion, it's the only kind we've got here…"
"You need one to cure poison, moron!" The Questioner snapped.
His face fell, and Freyjin's fear returned, "Is… where can I go? I don't want to die…"
The Prince furrowed his brow, "Either to my home, or to yours, those are the only ones I can be sure of"
Freyjin flung herself prostrate before the Prince. "Please… master… take me to one of them…"
"Get in!" The Prince ordered and flung the door open, "And you! Get that one," he pointed to the unconscious half elf, "taken to the estate of Duchessa Aiwenor! If he dies, you die." He snapped out his orders to the guards.
The Questioners broke their silence to attempt to object, "But… the heresy…"
"You were used!" The Prince barked the short form explanation and shot into the carriage after the slave, he slammed his fist against the wood at his back before the door was even shut.
"Drive!" He bellowed, and the coachman cracked the whip over the white horses backs, lurching the ornate conveyance forward.
"House of Aiwenor, it's closer!" The Prince shouted through the slat before the coachman could ask the destination, "And stop for nothing."
Rasgen's eyes blazed, and he reached for the door that bounced wildly against the side as a result of not having been properly closed first. It clicked quietly shut.
"You'll be alright, you don't know that any of it got on you. This is just a precaution." Rasgen said as soothingly as he could.
Freyjin wrung her hands, "I know… I know… but of all the ways to go… master." She stared out the window.
"Don't think about that… Freyjin." Rasgen said in a quiet, gentle voice.
"How can I not?" She snapped, then covered her mouth, "How can I not, master?" She rephrased her question and closed her eyes.
"Think of something else… but… I have to ask, if you knew it was poison, and what it was… why did you take a chance like that?" Rasgen asked, his bearded face was drawn and uncertain, his eyes moved up and down the slender body of the blonde haired slave, reappraising her again.
"It's my duty to my mistress… she gave me back my child, gave her back her freedom. Some of my comrades are… not always as sure of my faithfulness as they are of their own. But it's no less than theirs. I know the lady well now. The man back there, he must have knowledge of a threat to my mistress, I can't let that die. I can't, it's strange to think my life is worth only a handful of words but… if my mistress fails, my children will suffer. That's worth the risk. But I don't want to die…" Freyjin answered, her body shivered in visible terror, her feet tapping while a few tears ran away from her face.
"Inept idiot… three cure poison spells... no wonder he's working there." Freyjin cursed half under her breath.
Rasgen could all but hear her heartbeat from across where she sat. "If I don't make it… can I beg you for something, master?" She said with sudden clarity and calm.
"Name it." Rasgen ordered.
"Tell my children I love them. It's not my place… I'm just a slave, I shouldn't be asking a Prince to act as a messenger, but… you're the only one here." Freyjin bowed her head in humility and closed her eyes in a futile effort to keep the leaking at her eyes at bay.
"I'd prefer you tell them yourself, but your mistress is to be my wife, if you were poisoned, then you took a risk for her sake… yes, I will pass on your message." Rasgen replied to her with a solemn face, and to his surprise, she smiled at him.
"You really are a good one… oh goddess…" She mewed.
"What…?" Rasgen asked with dread creeping up his nerves.
"I'm… I'm starting to feel numb…" Freyjin looked at him with wide-eyed alarm and thrust her head out of the window to see where they were. The ground raced beneath the rapidly spinning carriage wheels, the hooves of the horses thundered up front, and the busy conversation of the city became a blur of noise.
"Hurry… please hurry…" Freyjin's heart raced in her breast, regrettably faster than the swift carriage as it bounced up and down over the cobblestone street.
"Freyjin…" Rasgen said, but she wasn't done.
"My Prince… my friend, Vargas, he won the right to liberate someone, a reward for his valor, and passed it on to me so I-I could free one of my children. I haven't chosen any, because I have three more who are slaves and… how can a mother do that…? If I don't make it, let them draw lots. I still can't choose… I still can't… I…"
Her words tapered off as her face seized up, her body began to shiver as the numbness became cold. It crept it's way to her core and the seizure began.
Rasgen grasped for her body as her limbs flailed mindlessly and her head began to flop about, he looked out of the window and saw the looming presence of his betrothed one's home.
"Freyjin!" Rasgen shouted down at her when her eyes rolled back in her head.
She started to foam at the mouth and he wiped it away with his sleeve, it was replaced by more, as her body began to lurch and arch at the back, thrusting her chest up towards his face while her head craned away from him.
They passed the gate and were racing into the courtyard, the carriage's roaring over the ground was quick to draw the eyes of those about the grounds at the moment, and it jerked to a stop just in front of the stairs.
The horses whined and reared back before coming to a complete stop, the Prince didn't wait for the coachman, he kicked the door open and lept down, dragging the spasming Freyjin out and over his shoulder.
At the top of the stairs, guards in heavy plate with long wicked looking halberds across their bodies with readied for the unknown, dropped them when they saw the Prince, and saw the woman draped in his arms still seizing up across his body.
"Get a healer! Tell them to cast Cure Poison!" He bellowed the order and one rushed into the house, slamming the door and shouting so loudly he could be heard from outside.
"Sire! What happened?!" The remaining guard cried out and rushed down the steps to take the Steward from his arms, her weight was less than he expected, meriting not even an 'oof' he rushed up the stairs with the Prince following after, striding up the stairs so quickly that they skipped every other one until they entered the estate.
Freyjin's thoughts were confined, her lips were locked, as was her jaw, but her mind was still functioning while her awareness diminished. 'It's dark, and my body won't listen… his eyes rolled back in his head, mine must have done the same. That's why I can't see. It's funny, I'm not scared now, I was terrified before… but it feels like I'm floating. Am I being… carried? Right, I must be. What are they shouting about, everything sounds so far away… there's my owner's voice… I must be at the estate though… if… if I'm being carried and hearing her. I'm going to make it… everything will be fine…. Mistress will be so proud of my work… I'll bet she'll even let another of my children go free…'
And with that thought, Freyjin died.
Onimeus finished the last paper in front of him that officially turned over the lands around Komestra to the House of Aiwenor. No sooner had he placed the last wax seal into place on the last duplicate copy, that he heard the door open to the little workspace he'd been allotted.
He rose to his feet, moved to the front of his desk, and knelt to the entrant. "Prince Yanlim… you could have called for me, you didn't have to come visit."
The Prince gave a low laugh, "Rise, old man. It's fine, it's easier for me to walk here than for you. Besides, this office isn't far from my own quarters."
"I… suppose not, well it is your palace, go where you wish." Onimeus's aged eyes twinkled as he rose to his feet, "What brings you to me today?"
"I think you can guess." Yanlim answered and clapped his hands together , then he rubbed them greedily.
'Diana… she must have shown him quite a time.' Onimeus mused and kept a smile on his face as best he could.
"My lord, it hasn't been that long, and… there is the matter of her status, she is still a slave, even if she did come from a noble house… please, be patient. I swear by all that is divine, I will come to you as soon as I hear from the Lady Aiwenor." Onimeus kept his voice diplomatic and calm, then gestured to the chair at his desk and the Prince took advantage of the hospitality offered to seat himself.
He then made the same gesture, waving Onimeus over to the chair he'd just been seated at, inviting him to sit in turn.
"Thank you, my lord, it's difficult on these old bones to stay standing for too long." Onimeus said with true gratitude, sliding the chair back, and seating himself, he attempted a change of subject.
The old strategist placed his hands flat on the desk and leaned forward as he spoke. "My Lord, I understand what you're asking for, I was young once, and though my wife has been gone many years, I remember the way passions stirred… it's not easy, I know, but please be patient. The Lady Aiwenor is a… steady woman. Not prone to rashness. When she receives your request for Diana as a… gift exchange… believe me when I say she will not simply dismiss you without a word. If you have heard nothing, it is because either she has not received your request, or she has not come up with an answer suitable to your august self, or she has sent word and it simply hasn't arrived yet."
"I suppose that's true. She didn't seem the type to act quickly outside the field. All her speed in one place, you might say." Yanlim looked a little sheepish, and he gave a laugh as sheepish as his expression, Onimeus laughed in a good natured way along with his former enemy. But he felt the anxiousness in his heart at the young Prince's eagerness.
"My Prince… may I suggest… why don't you take some time for yourself, go hunting, or maybe just spend a lazy day in your harem. You've done a great deal already and there's no need to be anxious over this. Diana is… valuable, but you're a Prince and must have a clear mind to govern well. Obsession over one slave is unhealthy. I won't say anything, but you are no longer just a general." Onimeus drew back from his forward leaning posture and Yanlim's back straightened up when the nervous laughter faded.
"Harem… I tried it, but it is a draining experience." Yanlim replied.
"I believe that is the point, isn't it, my Prince?" Onimeus remarked with a gray eyebrow raised.
Yanlim's mouth fell open at the unexpected joke, and a deep laugh began again before he shook his head. "That isn't what I mean. I am a means for advancing themselves, and more than one has spoken of what position I might give to any child they bear me. The 'draining' is that they want not me, but what they can get from me. That is why I am so fixated on Diana, though she was only a slave, she wanted only for us to enjoy each other, she gave no thought to what else I might give to her. She asked for nothing. That is… very rare, you understand." Yanlim kept his head up, but Onimeus noticed very easily that it was difficult for the Prince to do.
'So… that's where Diana's power lies. She sets them totally at ease… asks nothing, and gives them all they want… she's a demoness, a true demoness. Poor Prince Yanlim… he has no idea…' Onimeus looked pityingly at the Prince, his loyalty to his mistress kept his tongue bound, but true to form, Yanlim misunderstood the sympathetic expression.
"Yes, you understand. I'm well aware I was always better looking and everything else than my cousin, but with his power and the greater wealth, and my status dependent on him? I was passed right by. It's a bitter thing, and looking back on it, I think he enjoyed that. I think that's why he never arranged a marriage for me. If I married, I wasn't going to be available to be 'bypassed' anymore. He wouldn't have been able to feel superior to me about something. He wasn't all bad, but that jealous streak…" Yanlim rolled his eyes.
"I still miss him, but I don't miss that. Though now I have a whole new problem. It never ends, does it, slave?" The Prince asked rhetorically.
"Yes, it does." Onimeus said sagely. "There is a point where all your problems end, Prince of Hanak'sen."
"Really, when's that?" The Prince asked, clenching his hands together on the desk, he leaned forward to gather up this bit of wisdom.
"How many problems does your cousin have right now?" Onimeus asked, and while the look of slow understanding spread over Yanlim's face, the old general continued.
"You stop having problems when you die, as long as you're alive, there will be a problem to solve, that is what has been given to us, to struggle and flail against problems, until we are all dead. If you're very good at it, you just make it easier on everyone else. Please… Prince Yanlim… find some way to relax yourself and take your mind off my mistress's possession. She may be given to you, but you won't help yourself or your city by thinking of what is absent…" Onimeus put a hand on an inkwell and placed another piece of paper on the desk, a subtle indication of his desire to work.
Yanlim took that hint at the very least. "You're right, slave… When I see my sister again, I will tell her that in you, she has an excellent servant.."
"I am, and she will be delighted by the praise." Onimeus replied and stood when the Prince rose to his feet, and held a bow until the warrior Prince departed and closed the door at his back.