Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Yes, the long-awaited chapter 5. So, I have not yet reached the turning point of Tears, but this first scene just came to me today. Enjoy! (and as always, all crits and comments welcome)
Chapter 5: The Speaking Stones of Syldameth
She could feel her own breaths beneath the sweltering covers over her head, the dampness clinging to her face and neck when she opened bleary eyes and felt soft fabric beneath her body. Somebody was knocking on the door, the dull sound thrumming in her ears. Sophie moaned softly and clutched her head as she crawled from beneath the covers and yawned.
“Captain Pierce!” a husky voice roared outside the door.
It was still dark outside, and the faintest shadow of the moon was plastered in the sky. Sophie clenched her teeth and cursed her maid under her breath, wadding her sheets into a ball and hurling them at the door. “Stop knocking and leave me alone!” she shouted, gripping the edge of her bed.
“Captain Pierce, the king has requested your presence immediately!” shouted Sophie’s maid, still banging on the door.
“Tell him it is too early!” Sophie retaliated, standing and rubbing her temples as she padded over to her drawers and slipped on a rough tunic. Pulling her hair into a sloppy pony tail, Sophie made her way towards the door.
“I will not tell the king you ‘respectfully decline’ again,” Sophie’s maid responded in aggravation, knocking again. “And the officials do not relish awaking to our shouting contest every morning.”
Sophie opened the door a crack and peered through, glaring at her maid. “If you just told the king I refuse to come at such a horrendous hour, no officials would awaken, now would they?”
“My dear, if I said such an impolite thing, he would depose of you swiftly,” the maid said with a chuckle and shouldered her way into the room when Sophie opened the door a little more. The maid was heavyset with long, blond hair and beady eyes that regarded Sophie with compassion. “I knew you would let me in.”
Sophie scowled and slammed the door behind her before stalking toward the other side of the room and opening her curtains. Still laughing tightly, the maid followed her across the room where Sophie stood, staring out her window with a stubborn frown. “There is a little child in the prison who is injured,” Sophie told the maid softly.
“So that is what has been eating at you,” the maid observed and strode over to Sophie’s bed, laying a rectangular wooden box on it and unlatching it. “Do not be afraid. I am sure the king will grant whatever you ask; he trusts in your loyalty, Captain Pierce. He knows how true you have been to Kalinth.”
Sophie cringed inwardly at the horrible irony of her maid’s words and turned away from the window. “Do you know why he has summoned me?”
“Something about a marriage. I am quite happy for him, really. You know what happened to his first fiancé.”
Her mouth twisting with disgust, Sophie glared at her maid; she held back angry words and lifted her head a little. “Of course.”
“And he wants you to wear this.” The maid drew a long, ornate dress, dyed blue and accented with golden beads from the rectangular box on Sophie’s bed and held it out with a large grin.
Sophie stepped back in horror, her mouth falling open. “No!” she exclaimed and slammed her open window shut with a loud bang. “I do not wear dresses, especially not for the king,” she yelled.
The maid only smiled. “It wasn’t a friendly suggestion, Captain Pierce.”
“I’m not wearing it!”
Sighing, the maid drew a small slip of paper out of her pocket and held it up, eyeing it a tilted angle. “Shall I show him this little note I found on your desk last night. I see it addressed to someone named Gee-et–”
“No! Give it!” Sophie shrieked and lunged at the maid, grabbing for the note desperately. “You can’t read it. It’s mine. You have no right searching through my things.”
“Oh, I am sure it would be immensely informative about you, Captain Pierce–”
“Fine! I’ll wear the stupid dress, but give me that note,” Sophie shouted and ripped the note from the maid’s hands, panting as she stuffed it into her pocket. “Why can’t I have the nice maids – or even better, no maids at all?!”
The maid was not deterred; she only chortled and shook her head. “Your business if your own, Captain Pierce. I will not ask who that note was for. Now, let me help you into this dress.”
An hour and three more arguments later, Sophie and her maid walked through the halls; Sophie dressed in the king’s chosen blue gown and the maid smiling triumphantly. Sophie covered her face with one hand in hopes that no one would recognize her. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” Sophie murmured when they approached Captain Traez and Captain Embel who waited for her at the throne room doors.
Embel grinned at Sophie when they stopped in front of the doors, but quickly composed himself when Sophie cast him a scalding glare. Traez only smiled politely and entered the throne room silently at her side.
King Hedjlon sat upon his throne, gazing off to the side of his chamber with distant eyes; unkempt blond hair jutted out from under the crown upon his head and when he saw Sophie, he stood and grinned boyishly, a perturbing kind of interested glowing in his eyes. “You look absolutely stunning, Captain Pierce,” he chuckled.
Sophie glared at him.
King Hedjlon cleared his throat and continued, “I have been very impressed with your work, Captain Pierce; you are an able successor to your family’s line of captains. After your father betrayed Kalinth and your brother died, my father worried that the Pierce family of royal captains would end, but you have upheld your family’s dignity.”
“I am honored, your majesty,” Sophie murmured, lowering her head to hide the anger brewing behind her eyes.
The king paused for a moment before saying, “I hear that my patrols have captured a man, a woman and a child from the house of Arillo Ezehndoza. Is the man one of Senzieda’s breed?” the king inquired, watching Sophie carefully.
“Yes, he is,” Sophie answered and dared to lift her head and meet the king’s eyes.
“Then one can assume his cohorts would come to retrieve him again?”
“One may assume.” Sophie nodded.
“Good. Post guards in Hiarnim to find them and bring them to me; we will force them out of hiding and then capture them. Double the amount of guards in Hiarnim. Triple it! I don’t care, but be sure they do not walk out of my grasp alive.” The king rapped his fingers on his armrest as he sank back into his chair, grinning like a little boy toying with his father’s chess set.
“Yes, your majesty,” Sophie agreed weakly and hesitated before speaking in a faint voice, “The child with them – he has nothing to do with Arillo; he was simply found along the path back to the castle, and he is injured. He needs medical attention, your majesty.”
King Hedjlon grimaced and stroked his chin. “How is the child important?”
“The child is not important; the child is innocent and that is why he should be cared for,” Sophie explained, pursing her lips and hoping to see a flame of mercy flicker in the king’s eye.
“The child is unimportant. The child will die unimportant.” The king waved off Sophie’s request with a disinterested gesture.
Sophie bristled and felt the hairs at the back of her neck rise; anger pulsed through her veins, and she was about to open her mouth when Traez placed a hand on her shoulder, casting her a meaningful look. Sophie shuddered and straightened, restraining herself.
“Besides, you and your regiment will be traveling to Hiarnim tonight; there is a celebration taking place tomorrow afternoon and I want you there for it,” the king informed Sophie, grinning again.
“What kind of celebration?” Sophie asked in a low voice, glaring at the king.
“My imminent marriage, of course, to a beautiful young woman. I hear she is very excited to see me!”
“Don’t you think this is a little – ah– sudden, your majesty? I have not heard of any plans for this wedding until now,” Sophie observed, her mouth twisting uneasily when King Hedjlon only chuckled.
“Nothing is too sudden for me, Captain Pierce. Many people have told me since my first fiancé’s death that marriage would ease my suffering. You will be ready tonight, and tomorrow evening will be the new queen’s procession. I will meet you there tomorrow.” The king leaned back in his throne and yawned. “Now, it is awfully early, isn’t it?”
“Am I dismissed, your majesty?” Sophie asked in a voice hoarse with anger, clenching her fists at her sides.
“Yes, my dear,” the king said and waved her off.
“Captain Pierce,” Sophie corrected him vehemently, and the king stared at her in surprise. Sophie drew a deep breath and managed a mirthless smile. “I am Captain Pierce, your majesty.”
The king raised one eyebrow. “Farewell, then, Captain Pierce.”
Sophie whirled around and stormed out of the throne room without a bow, leaving the king bewildered behind her. Traez and Embel scrambled to catch up with her as she marched away from the throne room, tearing the pins out of her hair violently until her doe-brown hair was a tangle of knots. When Sophie halted and shoved the pins into her maid’s outstretched hand, Traez laid a hand on her shoulder. At that moment, Sophie was grateful for his cool touch, and she drew a deep, shuddering breath.
“Sophie, what is it?” Traez asked softly.
Sophie turned on him furiously and shouted, “The child is unimportant. The child will die unimportant. Well, I don’t care one bit if the child is important or not or what that pathetic excuse of a king thinks about it. Fine! The king is a pig. The king will die a pig. The king will be buried like a pig, and I will spit upon his–”
“Sophie, not so loud!” Embel hissed through his teeth.
“I don’t care how–”
“Sophie, Embel is right,” Traez added more gently, meeting Sophie’s eyes seriously.
Her face flushed a bright hue of red and her breaths coming in shallow gasps, Sophie pulled a few strands of sweaty hair out of her face and swallowed furious tears. “Thank you, Traez,” she whispered. Her maid headed down the remainder of the hallway and disappeared. Embel smiled sympathetically and thumped Sophie on the back before retreating to the barracks.
Exhaling slowly, Traez ran one hand through his sleek brown hair and said, “Sophie, if you ever need my aid with the Lecräesans and Senzieda’s friends and Gietan or any of them, please just come to me. I know that–”
“What?!” Sophie shouted, fear flaring in her glittering eyes when she looked up at Traez.
“I know, Sophie. I know you are helping them, but you do not need to be afraid. I want to help you.” Traez smiled crookedly and shoved his hands into his pockets, awaiting Sophie’s response with anticipation.
“No, Traez, don’t get involved in this!” Sophie pleaded. “I won’t have you sacrificing anything for my sake. You are a captain of the guard. Your loyalty lies with the king.”
Traez stared down at Sophie accusingly. “Then who are you, Sophie, and where does your loyalty lie?” he whispered.
Sophie bit her lower lip and suppressed a shudder, her hands shaking at her sides. “I am Captain Pierce to you, Traez,” she reminded him quietly.
Traez’s frown deepened. “Then good day, Captain Pierce.” And he strode off without another word; he did not even look back.
Sophie closed her eyes and lowered her head. Treason. It was treason she committed with every step she took through the palace halls, but this treason could not be treacherous, could it? Surely what she did was right; surely her treason would be forgiven in the name of mercy. But if I am doing what is right, then why does it hurt so much?
Sophie sighed and walked the remainder of the hall before her.
~
Notes: Wrote this scene from scratch so it is bound to be a bit rough at the moment; I know there is some syntax I need to fix.
~
“He’s probably just sleeping,” Gietan remarked in the darkness that enshrouded his dank cell; he sat beside the wall, staring at the Svarë girl named Lusien who knelt at the child Ristev’s side. Lusien’s pallid face was barely visible beneath her hood and Gietan could not see her expression, but he read the anxiety in her rigid posture as she felt over the boy’s face for signs of illness.
“With your constant talking? I would envy him!” Lusien snorted, and Gietan glimpsed her vibrant violet eyes fixed upon his face.
Gietan grimaced. “Many people have survived my talking, thank you,” he told her tersely and watched as Lusien’s hand rested upon the pale boy’s forehead. Ristev lay in a shallow puddle of water that had formed in the stones of the prison, his downy brown hair soaked and his little face spattered with mud. The boy was not moving.
“With sanity still intact?”
“Enough already!” Gietan shouted at her, his wounded pride surfacing as he glared at Lusien. Arillo’s street girl had been a nuisance the moment Gietan had met her, not to mention she was Svarë and for that something that festered deep within him longed to hurt her. “Will the boy be all right?”
At first, Lusien did not answer; she only knelt in silence, stroking the little boy’s damp forehead. “I don’t know,” she admitted at last. “I have little experience in healing, but his breathing is very shallow, and I worry for him.”
“Is there any way I can help?” Gietan asked, softening at the sight of the little boy wheezing, his little chest faltering in its rise and fall.
“I wish I knew,” Lusien whispered and shook her head. “I won’t let him die.” She looked up and glared at Gietan with cold determination. “He’s going to make it.” Her hood fluttered in the slight wind that wafted through the cell and something purple flashed in the darkness that was her face.
“Your hood, your cloak – you look like a black ghost,” Gietan commented, frowning deeply though his eyes softened with compassion. “It looks like a death shroud. Why don’t you remove them and look like any other normal person?”
“Because I can’t,” Lusien snapped, her frigid words speaking of bitterness.
Gietan chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure you can. Shall I try?” he offered, standing and approaching Lusien with his hands buried in the pockets of his clothing.
Lusien leapt to her feet and scrambled backwards like a caged animal, pulling her hood more closely behind her face; fear flashed in her violet eyes when she cried, “You touch me and I will kill you!”
“And what will you do, Lusie?” Gietan teased her blithely, “Glare me to death?”
“Don’t call me Lusie ever again!” Lusien yelled at him, her voice faltering and breaking off abruptly; she cringed visibly. “You call me Lusie and I will–”
“You will kill me? You have no weapons, Lusie!” Gietan burst into laughter, blind to the pure terror in Lusien’s eyes.
Lusien whipped a knife out of her boot and pointed it at him. “Stay back!” she shouted, “One more step and I will kill you! Leave me alone! I don’t care about you or your sniveling little friends who are supposed to rescue you. As soon as I leave here, I’m running for my life; I hope I never see you again.”
Gietan threw his hands up in the air and backed away, “Whoa! No need to pull out the knife on me. I wasn’t really going to do anything!” He swallowed hard and looked up at her.
Lusien did not lower her knife so quickly. She stood there for a moment, still threatening him. “You call me Lusien, nothing else, understand me?”
“Understood, Lusien,” Gietan agreed shakily, his face paling at the sincerity of her anger. Her chest still heaving with fear, Lusien lowered her knife and slipped it back into her boot, turning her back on Gietan and retreating to the other side of the cell. Gietan watched her leave, lowered his hands slowly, and wondered if Lusien’s heart was as black as her hood.
~
Notes: Character impressions would be lovely
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