#part of managing my birds right now because I have no good herder is. well

[creaturefeaster]

got this really cool pic of an eagle taking off by complete luck today

[teawaffles]

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 2

“Oh my…… I thought this would be nothing more than a war game, but it’s certainly more nerve-wracking than I expected.”

The participants had taken their places, and around five minutes had passed since the game began. Kevin was whispering to Albert beside him as they walked, while pointing the gun he’d received in every direction around him. But in contrast to the jittery man, Albert had the relaxed air of a soldier.

“Certainly, this is a feeling of tension one wouldn’t normally get to experience. In fact, the enemy might just be around that corner.”

“What!? Really?”

Panicked, Kevin’s eyes darted all around them in a fluster. That disproportionate reaction elicited a wry laugh from Albert.

“Although it’s important to be aware of your surroundings, if you’re that stiff, your movements will be slow when it’s time to fight. Please relax a little.”

“I-I see. Yes, you’re right……”

Kevin nodded. Beside him, Albert’s guard was impeccable as he watched the leaves swaying in the slight breeze.

The playing field encompassed the entire forest. That said, as it wasn’t a vast area, there was no danger of getting lost. In addition, there was a little cabin in the woods, used on a daily basis by the gamekeeper who managed the hunting grounds; as they had obtained permission to use it during the game, indoor battles were also an option.

For the purposes of safety, all players were obliged to wear spectacles shaped to resemble goggles, as well as bulletproof vests. The guns they had been issued fell into two categories: revolvers and sniper rifles. As a forfeit, and also to pass the time, eliminated players were tasked to feed pheasant chicks at a game bird nursery a good distance away.

Incidentally, Herder had also wanted to impose a severe punishment in the event a gun was damaged. Foreseeing that this would create needless worry, Moran and the others had swiftly hushed him before the words left his mouth.

Thinking back to the explanation of the rules, Kevin looked at the revolver in his hand.

“In any case, this gun is exquisitely crafted. As it was mentioned earlier that the guns used fake bullets, I imagined it would resemble a toy, but it looks exactly like the real thing.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, though it’s all due to Herder’s exceptional skill. I heard he oversaw the creation of these weapons down to the finest details.”

Kevin looked at the card attached to his gun with string. Written on it was a number 8.

“I see: so this is a measure to prevent the guns from getting lost. But if they are so important, I thought it would be safer to carve the numbers directly onto them.”

“You may be right; in which case, we may’ve caused everyone some inconvenience.”

Albert said that with a slightly apologetic tone, and Kevin waved it off.

“No, no — if anything, it reflects his passion, and I honestly respect that. Even though I work in a different field, I have a lot to learn from him as a professional.”

“Thank you very much. I’m sure Herder would be delighted to hear that,” Albert replied, with sincere joy.

However, in an instant, Kevin’s expression seemed to grow a little darker.

“Still, maybe I shouldn’t have brought Helena here after all. She absolutely insisted on coming, so I relented, but with the guns looking so real, that…… I wonder if it’ll remind her of that incident.”

Albert could sense what he was trying to say.

“For that, I sincerely apologise. This event must seem somewhat inappropriate after what she went through.”

Hearing Albert take his remark so seriously, Kevin tried to explain himself in a fluster.

“N-No, it’s alright, I did not mean it as criticism. Besides, Helena seemed to be especially enjoying herself too.”

“Nonetheless, please allow me to apologise, for it may be the case that she’s simply putting up a strong front.”

At that, Kevin cocked his head in confusion.

“……Then, why did you decide to hold this game?”

Albert’s reply sounded almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“——Because it’s part of our ‘plan’.”

“Huh?”

Unsure of the meaning behind that word, the question fell from his lips before he could stop himself. But Albert did not elaborate further.

The conversation had unwittingly ground to a halt. Just as Kevin was searching for a different topic to talk about, Albert’s sharp gaze landed on a nearby thicket.

“There’s someone there.”

“Huh? Really?”

Bewildered, Kevin looked in the same direction. Then they heard the sound of leaves rustling, and the undergrowth parted to reveal an elderly nobleman.

Seeing the person before them, Albert lowered his gun. A warm smile rose to his face.

“……So it was you, Lord Andy. I thought you were the enemy.” [1]

“Hello, Albert-kun. Just for fun, I thought I’d hide and see how long it took you both to spot me, but it seems you discovered me instantly. As expected of the young, your perceptiveness is incredibly sharp,” he laughed, ruffling his own short white hair. He was also on the same team as Albert and Kevin.

The elderly nobleman was Andy Krueger, whose estate extended across the surrounding lands; he also owned the hunting grounds on which the game was being held. Today’s game had been brought into reality after Albert proposed the idea to him.

For such an important gathering on the social calendar, one would normally be hesitant to transform it into an unorthodox event like this. But Andy had jumped at the offer, and even offered his opinions on the finer points of the game. Because of this generous and broad-minded nature of his, he also had the trust of the other nobles.

At the man’s arrival, for some reason, Kevin sighed in relief.

“Please don’t surprise me like that — unlike Lord Albert, I was frightened half to death.”

“Sorry about that, Kevin-kun. But aren’t you being too timid? Have a little more nerve!”

“I’ll do my best.”

At their friendly banter, Albert seemed curious.

“Are both of you already acquainted?”

“Yes,” Kevin affirmed. “We got to know each other when Helena’s father and I were gaining recognition in London. Ever since that time, the nobility had not looked fondly upon us, and only Lord Andy treated us as equals.”

Kevin looked gratefully at the nobleman as he said this, and Andy clapped his shoulder heartily.

“Those aristocrats are really quite averse to the changing times, it seems. But I have no interest in such dreadful traditions. Even at the gathering earlier, they were keeping their distance and saying such rude things that I had to tell them off. Although I hadn’t seen them in a while, because of that, I didn’t even get a chance to say hello— Ah, apologies.”

“No, it’s fine, Lord Andy. You don’t have to apologise,” Kevin said, waving both hands in the air. “Rather, after hearing that you went to such lengths for a good-for-nothing like me, I’m truly grateful.”

���What’s this? Timid as ever, I see,” Andy barked. “You’re an excellent businessman, so why not act like it?”

Then the elderly nobleman’s expression, which had been cheerful thus far, clouded over just a little.

“Nevertheless, I still feel sorry for your friend. At least, his daughter Helena seems to be doing well…… Have there been no clues even now?”

Kevin’s tone also grew heavy.

“……None at all. Helena believes he’s alive, but personally, I think he’s no longer……”

“He’d suddenly vanished, didn’t he?”

Out of the blue, Albert cut in. The two men were startled, but Albert continued with a somewhat knowing look.

“After the incident at the department store, I became curious, and tried doing some research into it myself. It seems there are various peculiarities about this case. For one, the store Helena’s father opened with Mr Kevin had been a success, but one day, he simply disappeared without warning. On the night he was thought to have disappeared, when he was having dinner at home, a friend testified that nothing had seemed particularly off about him.”

“Moreover, that was the last time I saw him. I never thought it would be the last conversation we’d have together……”

Kevin — the friend who’d testified — said so in a thin voice, the corners of his mouth twitching as if in self-mockery.

“Of course, at first, the police suspected that I had something to do with it. They even went to the trouble of thinking up a motive: that as a co-owner, I would stand to gain all the store’s profits if he were to disappear.”

Thinking back to that false accusation, Kevin’s shoulders drooped. Seeing that, Andy addressed him in a droll voice.

“Come now, you never know — one day he might just come home all of a sudden. I’ve told you before: there’s nothing we can do at present, and on top of that, worrying unnecessarily will only injure your health.”

“……You’re right. Besides, we’re supposed to be having fun right now: if I’m the only one being so grave, I’ll just be putting a damper on things.”

“Exactly, exactly. Well then, let’s get back to the game,” Andy urged, thumping him on the back.

Albert, who had been watching their exchange with a calm gaze, smiled gently.

“Indeed; let us focus on the competition first. By the way, it’s about time for us to get our blood pumping…… I’d like to advance deeper into enemy territory. What say you two?”

At his invitation, Kevin quickly shook his head.

“No no no! Frankly, since the start of the game, my heart’s felt like it’s about to explode! Anything more than this and it’ll stop altogether!”

But the elderly nobleman threw his head back in hearty laughter.

“You young people have so much energy, it’s making me jealous. Kevin-kun, you’ve got to watch and learn as well.”

“No…… When I think about what lies ahead, somehow my legs can’t stop shaking,” Kevin murmured weakly. His legs were indeed trembling pitifully, so much so it wouldn’t be surprising for them to give out any moment now.

Andy sighed, as if astonished.

“It can’t be helped then. Sorry, Albert-kun — it seems he can’t go on. I’d like to say that I’ll go with you in his stead, but…… for some reason, my legs have been hurting for a while now. Despite my high spirits, my years have bested me today,” he laughed wryly, his expression weak.

Albert nodded firmly.

“I understand. Well then, let’s part ways here. I wish you both the best of luck.”

“T-Take care……”

Watching Albert’s brave figure as he walked gallantly into the depths of the forest, Kevin felt ashamed at his own cowardice once again.

Scoreboard

🔹 Blue team: Albert, Jack, Fred, William, Kevin, Andy

🔺 Red team: Moran, Bond, Louis, Helena

Footnotes:

[1] Andy’s title is not formally given in the story, but judging from the amount of land he owns, I think it’s safe to say that he’s a member of the peerage like Albert, and hence should be addressed as “Lord Andy”. (Wikipedia)

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - A new pact

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 3 | Part 4 A new pact | Part 5 >

Disclaimer: some strong language

Author’s note: Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me? Enjoy another tooth achingly sweet fluff chapter my dear readers ❤️

Word count: 1.557

(Link to my Masterlist)

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

I’m pleased to inform you that I have passed the princess approval test. Teeth were brushed, laughter was about and she even made friends with a furry companion the size of an adult bear. All and all it was a lovely, sunny Sunday and I can’t wait to bring her along on my adventures of today, which will include.. sheep herding!

Now you may wonder why a news reporter would go sheep herding, but did you know that Jersey used to have its own, very unique Jersey sheep? Through some unfortunate neglect and misunderstanding these sheep went extinct and now their four or six-horned heads no longer graze about. But! As per usual, we humans found out a century or so later, that these sheep and their many horns were a blessing to keep the nature on the island healthy, and thus they were re-introduced. Albeit this time in the shape of a fewer horned, more human friendly Manx Loaghtan herd, whom we’ll be meeting today.

I cannot wait to see if my fellow Alice has a knack for befriending other furry creatures as well, so keep your horns and fingers crossed - we’re going on an adventure!

Ali

The jeep tumbled and shook as it drove over the bumpy country road, the habited world slowly coming back into view. A welcome view too, because we had a fun, but also truly exhausting day. Little Alice had drifted into a slumber, her small body leaning heavily into my chest as she clambered onto a pair of fresh wool socks she had received as her gift.

I could only imagine what she’d be dreaming of right now. Probably, it involved lots of chasing of and cuddling with sheep. I yawned and watched with blinking eyes as Maddie and Frank’s house finally came into view, the afternoon late when we finally arrived.

‘Thanks Jonny.’ I smiled at the friendly bearded man behind the steering wheel.

‘Sure thing Ali. It was fun having you two…’ He hesitated, seeing the toddler as she was still far away in dreamland. ‘..You know what. Let me help you out with that.’ He winked, quickly swinging open his door and moving to the other side of the jeep. I sighed a quiet thanks as he pulled open the door, effortlessly scooping up the small girl from my arms.

‘Up you go! Hello little Alice. Looks like you’re home!’ He cheered, putting the sleep muddled toddler on her legs. I slipped out of my seat and thanked him again, my arms swiftly lifting Alice back on my hip before she’d fall right asleep on the sidewalk.

‘Well have a good one! Looking forward to the article.’ Jonny said, brushing some of the toddler’s hair out of her face. A sweet gesture.

‘I’ll make sure to send you a copy. Good night Jonny.’ I waved him off and turned around, my eyes catching some movement a little distance away, at the opposite side of the street.

And not just any movement. It was a dumbstruck, frozen-in-place, Henry, his large blue eyes blinking at me. He was clearly confused, his eyes briefly slipping away from me to look at the truck as it drove off into the distance.

‘Hey!’ I waved, a bit unsure of what to do. I could only figure what he was thinking right now; a man, a kid?! That’s not really quite the image you had sketched the other day. Biting my bottom lip I quickly crossed the street, walking up to him, tired toddler snugly held onto my chest.

Henry remained quiet as his eyes now moved to the girl in my arms, her bright blue eyes giving him a studious glare.

‘Hey..’ I repeated, trying to grasp his attention, my smile a tad awkward as I pulled up the toddler a bit higher on my hip - she sure was getting heavy!

‘Hi.’ He swallowed, quickly hiding something behind his back.

‘You probably wonder what the heck is going on.’ I bit my lip, looking down at Alice, his response a mere nod of the head. ‘..Maddie, my friend, had to rush to the mainland to help out her mom, so I offered to help out and watch over her little princess.’

Alice looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with passion. ‘I’m no princess!’ She muttered. ‘I’m a sheep herder!’

Henry’s pensive face broke into a tender smile, watching the little girl as she snuggled back into my chest. ‘I see.’ He let out a quiet sigh. ‘Sorry..I didn’t mean to..bother you..I was just..-’

‘In the neighbourhood?’ I laughed, nodding at the house. ‘Come inside. I need to put this sheep herder down before I break my back.’

—

‘Alright. The sheep herding princess is..asleep!’ I cheered, plopping down on the couch next to Henry, our bellies filled with food and the evening young.

‘Good. I eh..wanted to show you something by the way...Here.’ Henry said, offering me a piece of paper, our fingertips touching as I took it from him, my nose immediately scrunching up when I noticed what it was.

The pact.

‘Oh. My. Word.’ I started laughing aloud, studying the hand drafted “contract”, both our names and signatures neatly placed at the bottom. ‘How old is this even?’ I gasped. ‘Pff..well..we were what..thirteen? Something like that? I just started senior school.’ ‘Dearness me. Oh, I actually saw your mom yesterday and she was being particularly vague; “You would never guess what Henry asked of me yesterday” she said, and then she added that you’d probably wish to show it yourself… Very..very mysterious.’

‘Well, I’m a mysterious man.’ Henry winked at me, reaching out for his glass of red wine and finishing the last sip.  

‘Hardly.’ I retorted, smiling. I watched him for a moment as he sat back in the soft couch, his large frame sporting a tight and comfy cable knit sweater. He looked so huggable. Ugh! What a teddybear of a man he was.

He raised a careful eyebrow, testing me. ‘Well, dear Ali, do indulge me.’  

‘You work crazy hard and live a crazy A-lister lifestyle. But all you really want..’ I pointed at the contract. ‘..is rainbow coloured dreams. And..’ I pointed at his finished glass of red wine, shrugging.  ‘..perhaps another glass of red wine.’

Our eyes met, our lips curled into masks of friendshiply banter, but the underlying tone clear. We had been sweethearts before. Many times actually, our paths having crossed in every stage throughout our lives. Sometimes just being tight knit friends. Sometimes more. Could we do it again?

‘I didn’t bring a rainbow coloured pen this time, though.’ Henry said, gesturing me to look at a paper that was hidden beneath the initial contract. I furrowed my brow and turned over the paper, finding a new contract.

A..a real marriage contract.

I blinked, studying the document, then looked over at Henry, my face stricken with confusion.

He smiled sweetly, reaching out his fingertips to caress my hand, the pads of his fingers callus and warm. ‘I know your previous lovers had some..commitment issues. So.’ He shrugged casually. ‘I just thought it better to show you I’m not one of them.’

‘Wh..’ My voice croaked, my throat suddenly very dry and my heart buzzing like a humming bird. ‘W-what?’

HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT!!

‘Well, we pinky swore, remember?’ He chuckled. ‘And..of course I’ll let you off if you do not want to give me a shot. But..’ He sighed, smiling. ‘..it sure is funny how we keep running back into one another, right?’

I finally managed to get some of my breath back, the contracts now lowered on my lap, my eyes studying him, face serious.

‘Really? Is this a joke Henry? Tell me this is a joke.’

‘Do I look like I’m joking?’ He asked, looking indeed quite..serious. I swallowed and put the papers on the table, right in between our wine glasses, the air so very thick in my lungs.

‘Hmm..’ I licked my lips, curious and slightly unsure eyes looking back at Henry. ‘I don’t really believe in fairytales Hen.’ I shook my head, my mind reeling. 

‘You don’t have to. I’m being real Ali. I am.’

‘A contract doesn’t suddenly make a relationship work, Hen. You should know that better than anyone.’ I shook my head, wanting all of this to make sense. Why me? Why now? Why here? Why, why, why?!

‘I’m not asking you to sign it. I’m just showing you the commitment you seek. I want it Ali, I do.’

My heart was near jumping out of my chest as his words floated through the quiet living room, an open fire crackling somewhere in the background. I blinked again, still quite dumbstruck.

This was going way too fast. When I had said that the clock was ticking I didn’t mean; come make babies with me right this instant. Right? Right?! The past few years our only contact had been through over seas phone calls and Whatsapp messages. Heck. We hadn’t even kissed since we reacquainted two days ago and sleeping together? I think we hadn’t done that in..what? Ten years? 

My eyes moved over him, his body folded into the corner of the couch, large chest leaning forward, eyes hopeful. He was obviously trying to keep a friendly distance, though the wish to move closer was clear. Move closer to..to…You sighed, eyes now moving towards his lips. Those sweet, full cupid bowed lips.

‘You better kiss me real good, Cavill.’ You whispered, looking back up into his eyes.

It was an invitation he didn’t need to be given twice.

--

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[pigeontheoneandonly]

The Rescue

A Dragon Age / Mass Effect crossover, because that’s apparently what my brain wanted to work on today. (Part 2)

Kaidan Alenko was twenty-two years old when he started awake to the rattling of the iron window frame nearest his bed, one of several in the mage barracks of Kinloch Hold. Though less than thirty feet above the ground, it was rare for anything more than the breeze to trouble it; once, shortly after he first moved to this room, a bird flew into the panes and he hadn’t been able to sleep for a week.

But now something scrabbled at it.  He reached for his staff, trying not to make a sound.  The cords supporting his straw-stuffed mattress creaked as he sat up. Wishing for a fleeting moment he had his full robes on, instead of only the linen chemise, feeling defenseless without the layers of wool.  But that was ridiculous.  Not a stitch of it was enchanted.  The only item he owned that had such expensive work was the wooden staff.  He carved it himself and affixed the lyrium-inscribed crystal, issued with great solemnity from the senior enchanter’s stores a few years after his Harrowing.  All mages were entitled to a staff, if only because they couldn’t do the Circle’s work without one.

Kaidan held it now, pointed at the window, unable to see more than a flicker of a dark form in the night beyond its glass.  Waiting.

The lock snicked. The window swung inward.  He gripped the wood tightly, a spell rising on his lips—

A face appeared. Brown and weathered, blue eyes bright even in the faint torchlight from the hall, lockpicks in its mouth and a flag of red hair tied up in a scarf.  

“Mmmph!” it said, eyes widening at the sight of the staff.

Kaidan half-strangled himself pulling back the magic.  Still holding the staff out in shock.  More than a dozen years, and somehow he still knew her instantly.  It shouldn’t be possible.  They’d been children.

She saw his flicker of recognition, and relaxed into a smile, levering herself into the room and spitting out her tools so she could talk.  “Excellent, this is the right room.  For what I paid the information should’ve been good, but you never know with templar types—”

“Nathaly?” A hoarse whisper.  Not believing what he saw, and not wanting any of the other mages sleeping nearby to notice regardless of whether this was real. Much less the templar guard half-dozing beyond the doorway.  

She padded into the room, enough to peer out beyond the walls of his cubby, checking to see if anyone else had noticed her arrival.  Her clothes had changed.  No more the coarse homespun of a herder’s daughter; she wore well-fitted leather armor over dyed shirt and leggings, the brightness of their colors telling the expense, and carried a sword and bow on her back with all evidence of frequent use. He stared at her back, disconcerted.

Nathaly returned, her voice low.  “Nobody’s heard us.  Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

He finally managed to lower his staff. Stammering to his feet.  “I— what— you—”

She flashed him a broad smile, smug and almost giddy.  His stomach fluttered.  “I promised I’d come and get you out.  Just took a little longer than I planned, is all.”

They’d been eight and and nine, respectively.  Fetching water in the village.  She’d attacked the templars who grabbed him, bashing her fists bloody against their armor because futility only encouraged her.  Jumping up one’s back after they brushed her aside and hanging onto his hair like a burr.  It took both of the others to remove her, and the baker and his wife to restrain her so they could leave.  He remembered it well because it was the last nice thing anyone had done for him.  His own parents hadn’t fought; in a village that size, the Chantry’s orders might as well be the word of the Maker Himself.

And she had screamed reassurances, as the templars loaded him onto a horse and carried him off. Just sit tight, I’m coming.  

He never believed it.  And yet here she was.

Nathaly touched his shoulder, gave him a shake.  “Kaidan, we have to go.  It’s not safe here.”

Not safe here. A hysterical laugh bubbled up his throat.  He clamped a hand over his mouth.  She couldn’t know the half of it.  “It’s not safe out there, either.  They steal children, but they kill apostates.”

Her brow furrowed. “You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Some apostate in Kirkwall blew up their Chantry.  Not the little ones down in the districts— the big one, gilded up by the high mucks.”  She took a breath.  “It’s all going to come apart, sooner rather than later.  I’m not leaving you here to twist in the wind.”

Kaidan’s knees failed him and he sat back on the bed, heavily enough to make her wince at the noise.  Her hand straying to a dagger on her belt as she glanced again at the other cubbies. If that was true… if the Chantry decided mages were an active threat rather than a mere danger… But apostates would find no refuge anywhere.  There wouldn’t be an option to come back and face whatever punishment awaited. Sleeping in various chambers on this floor and one above it were the only people he’d known for most of his life, and if he did this, he’d never see any of them again.

The indecision must have shown on his face, because Nathaly crouched in front of him, and took both his hands in hers.  Her face nearly level squatting on the floor, she’d gotten so tall.  “Kaidan, I will protect you.  I’ll take you out of Ferelden, or to Tevinter, or across the Amaranthine Ocean if I have to.  If this tower is what you want, I’ll go, but if you want more than this… Do you trust me?”

He stared into her eyes.  On the Circle’s best days, he’d never wanted this.  And in the face of all sanity, he believed her, every word, because even at eight years old Nathaly was still the strongest person he’d ever known, strong enough to keep an impossible vow across more than a decade.  “I trust you.”

“Then let’s go. We don’t have much time.  I have a boat waiting, but we have to be across before the moon rises.”

“Right.”  He pulled his robe off its hook and over his head, and then found his cloak in the trunk.  He’d rarely needed it and it remained like new, deep blue wool lacking all insignia, a small blessing.  Belting on a pouch with his meager stash of coin and throwing a handful of useful or sentimental items into a knapsack, and then at last grabbed his staff, because he was damned if he was leaving his only real defense behind.  “My phylactery—”

“A friend’s taking care of it.  Owes me a favor.  We’ll give the signal when we’re clear.”

He wanted to ask how, but realized it didn’t matter.  His mind was made up.  “I don’t know how I’m getting down.”

“I’ve got a rope.” Again that smile. “All you have to do is hang on.  Then I’ll untie it up here and climb down to you.”

The next bell had just started to ring when she dropped lightly onto the grass beside him, and took his arm.  “Come on. It’s this way.”

They stole across the open field surrounding the Circle Tower.  Kaidan’s shoulders itched, as if he could feel a hundred templar eyes fixed on him through the stone walls.  So distracted he found the boat with his shins and had to stop himself from cursing aloud.  

It sloshed gently in the water.  A tall, spare man reached out to help him in.  “Easy there.  So, you’re Kaidan, huh?”

“Yes?”  The man talked as if he recognized him, but Kaidan never saw him before in his life.

“We can do introductions later,” Nathaly interrupted, grasping the rowboat by its prow and pushing off from the shore.  “Garrus.”

“I’ve got it.” He stood up straight and cupped his hands around his mouth.  A sound emerged, a birdcall, nothing native to this area.  So loud that Kaidan cringed down into the boat.

Her hand rubbed his back.  And he was almost more surprised by that small act of thoughtless comfort than the noise. “It’s just the signal.  Telling our friends we’re ready.”

“Do we wait for them, or…?”  

She shook her head and swung herself into the boat, boots soaked.  “They’re getting out another way.  Our part here’s done.  We’ll meet them at the rendezvous in Crestwood in three days.”  Then, catching his expression, “Don’t worry.  We’re not going into the village proper.  Or at least, you’re not and they’re not. Garrus and I will go for supplies and hear the news.  That’ll decide what we do next.”

They settled in the boat, Garrus drawing a paddle out from beneath the seats and cutting into the surface with barely a ripple.  Tonight, Lake Calenhad was smooth as glass, and quiet as a graveyard.  Kaidan glanced at the stars.  “We’re not headed towards the mainland docks.”

Nathaly nodded. “We’ll take the coast on foot and range north until we reach the Imperial Highway.  From there, we’ll be another group of travelers.  We’ve got clothes stashed for you on the shore.  I had to guess the sizing, but they’ll do for now.”

“Quiet,” Garrus said.  For the first time, Kaidan noticed the massive compound bow under his cloak, and the way his drab brown-gray clothes melded into the dark.  “Night like this, voices carry.”

Good sense prevailed, and they made the rest of the journey in silence.  At some point, Nathaly reached over and took his hand. He clung to her fingers and watched the tower and his life of thirteen years grow small on the horizon until the night swallowed them both.

[inkandheart]

Lady of Khaneya - Chapter 13, Part II

CHAPTER 13. FIRE

This installment is dedicated to my BFF @jael-paris on her BIRTHDAY! WOO-HOO! Have some angst, mah bean! ;D

TITLE: THE LADY OF KHANEYA

AUTHOR: HTTP://INKANDHEART.TUMBLR.COM/ (AKA STITCH/FEMMEDPLUME)

Word Count: 6063

Genre: Fantasy, Romance

SUMMARY: A fire at the camp of House Ng’ombe has devastating effects.

CHARACTERS: Lady Orian, Lady Latifya, Jaeger-Tau, Tevi, Brandt-Faran, Physica Vikka, Obin Onil, Lady Osumare Ng’ombe, Lady Yazi, Him

WARNINGS: Fire, death, brief abuse

“Hurry!” Orian all but screamed at her free-guard. When she’d realized that the smoke coming from across the lake couldn’t be anything but a disastrous fire, Orian had snapped into action -- because across the lake was Osumare’s encampment.

“They’re coming as quickly as they can,” Latifya admonished her. “Patience!”

“We have no time for patience,” Orian snapped back. “Osumare needs help now!”

“Lady Ng’ombe, please,” Tifya said. “And she’s Great Lady in her own right now; surely she can manage to help herself!”

Orian glared at her sister, then turned back to where the free-guard was assembling aid kits under the direction of Wise Mother Tiksi. “Wise Mother? Are we ready?”

Tifya sighed and shook her head. “Stubborn as a mule.”

The eldest Nekare sister was probably correct, so far as it went. Osumare had been House Ng’ombe’s Great Lady for almost two years now, and Ng’ombe kept its lands up on the plains north of Kinshasa where there was grazing for their cattle -- and wildfires regularly swept through the area. If anyone was prepared to deal with a sudden fire, it was House Ng’ombe.

But Osumare is my friend, Orian thought stubbornly. There is no way I leave her standing alone today.

Wise Mother Tiksi ran a critical eye over the packs the free-guard had assembled, then nodded. “This is enough to get started with, I think.”

“Good,” Orian nodded impatiently. “Let us go.”

“A moment, Great Daughter, if I may?”

Orian sighed. “Yes?”

“Split the guard,” the old woman advised. “Take half with you on the run, along with a message bird. The other half can charter a boat or two, and come across with any supplies you may discover a need for once you arrive.”

“Oh.” The young lady blinked. “Yes. Clever. Half of you, with me!” Orian raised her voice to address the free-guard. “The other half, attend on the Wise Mother; her words are mine.”

“Yes, Great Daughter!” The guard saluted.

Tiksi’s plan was implemented with a minimum of fuss; within five minutes, Orian, Latifya and half their guard were jogging down the path to the docks.

Tifya glanced back over her shoulder and frowned. “Are you certain bringing Tau was a prudent idea?”

“He was a soldier once,” Orian replied, saving her focus for the crowded path ahead. “Always a good plan to have trained men in an emergency.”

Tifya couldn’t argue with that without revealing the true nature of her fears about Tau and Orian spending time together, so she said nothing.

Behind them, Jaeger-Tau jogged along in time with the rest of the guard, carrying his own bundle of supplies. He had been caught off-guard when Orian had left the tent, nearly floating from the afterglow of pleasure he had given her, only to return wild-eyed and determined to rush headlong into possible disaster. He was still a trifle thrown by how quickly the entire camp had responded to her commands; up till now, he had thought Khanyan society put a higher premium on decorum than anything else. Khanyan nobles did not hurry.

But Orian did, when her friend was in trouble. He watched her make her nimble way through the crush of dockworkers, matched stride-for-stride by her sister Latifya, and shook his head in admiration.

“What is it?” Tevi asked.

“Nothing,” Jaeger-Tau said quickly, dodging a dockworker bent nearly double under a heavy sack of goods.

“I know that face, barbarian,” Tevi disagreed, leaping nimbly over a crate.

Jaeger-Tau rolled his eyes briefly. “Fine. I was admiring our ladies; I had no idea they were this athletic.”

“By ‘athletic’ you mean, capable of running?” Tevi grinned, a flash of white teeth. “Oh, the nobles can run when it suits them, but you’ll never hear them admit it. Running is a fit state only for peasants, you see.”

“In Allemagne, even the noble ladies were expected to be athletes.”

The Guard Second snorted. “Of course they were. Welcome to civilization, barbarian.”

Jaeger-Tau barked a laugh. “Thank you, but I think ‘civilization’ and her sister are outpacing us. Perhaps we should stop talking and run faster!” He put on a burst of speed just as they reached the end of the docks.

Tevi snorted and followed. The two men vaulted off the short end of the last stone pier and onto the sand, the Nekare free-guard tumbling hastily after them. After a few moments of breathless scrabble over loose-packed sand, Tevi and Jaeger-Tau led the group into the Ng’ombe camp--

--where they skidded to a halt behind their horrified ladies. 

The camp was in shambles; not one fire, but several burned out of control, while terrified cattle ran this way and that, trampling people and buildings with equanimity.

Ever the first to take charge in a crisis, Latifya stepped forward, but Orian cut her off.

“Tevi, take five guards and deal with the cattle,” Orian commanded. “We won’t get anything calmed while they’re stampeding about like that. And don’t let them out into the water; I don’t know how many water tokens Osumare has left! Tifya, take the rest and search the camp for any injured; if there are medimagi here, I’m betting they’ve set up a triage behind the camp on that rise,” pointing. “If they haven’t yet, do so. Tau!”

He stepped to her side even as Latifya and the rest hurried to  “Yes, mistress?”

“I need you to get everyone’s attention.” Unspoken between them was her newfound knowledge of his former commanding role in the Allemagnian army. Surely he had had some tactic to control a fighting battalion that would come in handy here?

“I know just the thing.” Jaeger-Tau scanned the area, noting a tumble of boulders at the bottom of the cliff marking the edge of the encampment. “There. Come with me.” He chose a boulder with a relatively flat top, just a little taller than he was. He scrambled atop it, then reached down and pulled Orian up beside him.

She looked down at the chaos uncertainly. “Now they can see us, for all the good that does.”

“Give me a moment.” He concentrated briefly, whispering a cantrip in Nors, and touched one large finger to his throat. Then he took a deep breath, and bellowed, “EVERYBODY CALM DOWN!”

His voice, amplified by the spell he’d used, rolled over the encampment like a deafening thunder, shocking everyone into silence -- even the cows.

He turned to Orian and, in a more normal voice, “May I?” She nodded, and he touched her throat briefly. “You don’t have to bellow like I did. Just speak clearly, they’ll hear you.”

Looking down at the crowd of frightened people, Orian had one brief moment of heart-jangling nerves -- would they listen to her? Should they? She hesitated.

Then Jaeger-Tau’s voice, similar to the terrifying bellow of a moment ago only in timbre, rumbled in her ear. “They need a leader, my lady. Just get them moving, and the rest will sort itself.”

Right. Get them moving. Orian took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and began issuing orders.

*

Brandt-Faran was briefly shaken out of his Healing trance when a voice that sounded exactly like Prince Jaeger’s parade bellow echoed over the camp.

“EVERYBODY CALM DOWN!”

“What was that?” Vikka yelped, pulling her hands away from Brandt-Faran and their patient, a young man whose legs had been crushed by trampling cattle.

“Um,” Brandt-Faran shook his head. It probably wasn’t Jaeger, anyway. “Sounds like someone’s trying to control the chaos out there. Physica, should we not--?”

Vikka blinked, refocused. “Of course, of course. Take a deep breath, and open yourself to me.”

Brandt-Faran took a calming breath and closed his eyes as he felt energy begin to flow from him to the Physica once more. As he sank back into the trance-like state which the Physica had shown him, insisting it was easier to access his energy if he was nearly somnolent, Brandt-Faran heard another voice echo out, giving orders to capture the rampaging cattle and help the wounded. But that voice was female, and nothing like Jaeger’s, so he put it out of his mind.

What would Jaeger be doing giving orders here, anyway?

*

“What about the fires?” Jaeger-Tau asked worriedly. “Won’t they spread?”

“Possibly, but until we can get the EMS out here, I don’t see how we can help that,” Orian replied.

“EMS?”

“Emergency Magical Services,” she explained. “Magi on-call for disasters during Satyrnalia.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “That’s helpful of them.”

“Well, a gathering this large, there’s bound to be some sort of disaster,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. “Let us hope they have a Water Elemental with them. And an Air Elemental to deal with the smoke; I worry more about the animals dying of inhalation.”

Jaeger-Tau brightened. “That’s it!” He leapt down from the boulder. “Stay here, mistress! I have an idea!”

“What is it? Tau!” She called, but he was gone, off into the fog.

Jaeger-Tau plunged into the smoke-filled chaos -- although it was already a bit calmer, as Tevi and his guards had organized the Ng’ombe herders. They had subdued the lead bull and were slowly herding the frightened cows into a makeshift enclosure of whatever wattle fencing hadn’t been trampled or burned. Other herders were using their crooks to pull down burning thatch from the roofs, shoveling sand over the pieces to kill the fire.

“Ho, Tevi!” Jaeger-Tau called.

“Ho, Tau!” Tevi called back from his place atop the lead bull. The Guard Second had attached a rope directly to the bull’s nose-ring, a brutally effective way of controlling the animal’s urge to trample. “What do you need?”

“Do they keep sylphs here?”

Tevi spoke briefly to one of the herders. “She says there’s a cage of them, but it’s in a building inside the fire-ring.” He coughed harshly. “Is the EMS coming? If the fire doesn’t kill us, the damn smoke will.”

“They should be here soon, but I think I can help with the smoke.” Jaeger-Tau unwound his aba and ran to the lake’s edge, plunging the fabric into the cool water. When it was soaked, he wrapped it around his head and shoulders, covering his mouth with the edge. Then, ignoring the shocked looks of the Khanyans, he ran past the outer rings of burning buildings.

Once past the first blast of fire, the Norseman paused for a moment to adjust to the fierce heat. Sweat poured down his face, and his lungs spasmed with every breath; even with his soaked aba, he wouldn’t last long. Fortunately, the buildings blocked some of the sound from the camp -- enough so that he could make out the high-pitched keening of sylphs in distress.

He followed the sound into the third building on his right, and found a floor-to-ceiling cage full of frantic sylphs; they redoubled their keening when they saw him.

“There now, calm yourselves,” he soothed them. “I’ve come to free you.”

The sylphs tinkled hopefully.

“But I must have a promise out of you first.” He paused, coughing as the smoke thickened.

The sylphs’ chiming sounded distrustful.

“Nothing bad,” he assured them. “Just fly free of the fire, then blow the smoke away over the lake so we can breathe again, and keep the fire from spreading to the back of the camp.”

The sylphs whistled amongst themselves. Some seemed willing, others reluctant.

Jaeger-Tau glanced over his shoulder, sweat stinging his eyes. Was the temperature rising? 

“Please,” he coughed. He wasn’t going to leave them there to die either way -- but once they were free, if none of them stayed to help, House Ng’ombe might loose its entire herd! “Two flowers to each who stays to help!” 

Now the sylphs chattered in agreement. Jaeger-Tau hurried to unlock the cage door; it took him a moment, as his were hands trembling from lack of oxygen. Finally, the door sprang free, and two-dozen sylphs blew past him and out the door of the hut, even as fire began to creep up the walls.

Jaeger-Tau stumbled out after them, coughing and gagging. Dizziness swept over him as he made his way back towards Tevi and the rest. He was so hot; his skin was burning, the aba long-since steamed dry.

I may have waited too long, he thought. He dropped to hands and knees, crawling towards the smoke-line. He was six horse-lengths away, he could make it.

Five horse-lengths. He coughed with every breath, his head exploding with pain.

Four horse-lengths. Sweat blurred his vision; he smelled the ends of his hair crackle and burn.

Three horse-lengths. He tried to call out for help, but he had no breath left. Slowly, he collapsed to the ground and rolled over on his back.

He had one brief glimpse of the bright blue slyph-glow hovering over his head before he passed out.

*

“Tevi?”

The Guard Second whirled. “Great Daughter, what are you doing? You need to stay back out of the smoke!”

“I will,” Orian promised, mouth covered by her aba. “But where is Tau? He came this way over ten minutes ago!”

Tevi cringed. “He went behind the fire-line.”

“What?” She shrieked. “And you let him?”

“I could not stop him! I think he -- wait! Look!” He pointed upward as dozens of bright blue lights zoomed up into the sky above the camp.

“Sylphs,” Lady Orian gasped. “That’s what he meant!” She peered into the smoke-laden air just as the tiny fae-creatures began to generate a strong breeze, blowing the smoke -- and the fire -- towards the lake.

“Clever,” Tevi nodded. “Sylphs aren’t strong enough to blow out the fire, but they can at least keep us all from dying of the smoke while we wait for the EMS magi.”

“Yes, but should not Tau have come out with them? Where is he?”

Tevi glanced at his mistress, surprised by the franticness of her tone. “He may have passed out before he could cross the fire-line again. Do not fear, mistress; we will find him.”

Lady Orian noticeably reigned in her emotions. “Of course you will. And look, here come the magi! Tevi, I leave you in charge of the rescue of  -- all injured persons. I must go speak to the magi.”

“Yes, O Prudent and Conscientious.” He watched her hurry off to meet the coracle of people wearing the bright yellow of EMS magi that was just pulling onto the strand. Not that he wasn’t worried about Tau himself, of course--

--but since when did a Great One fret over the life of one slave?

*

“There!” Physica Vikka said with satisfaction, releasing her hold on their patient.

Brandt-Faran opened his eyes and smiled at the little girl, who a few minutes before had been writhing with pain from the burns she had sustained. Now they were healed to shiny, ridged scars and the pain was gone -- though if she wanted her hair to grow back or her skin smoothed she would require the services of a Sculptor. At this moment, she seemed happy enough to be free of pain.

“A thousand thanks, Great Physica,” the girl’s mother pressed Vikka’s hand to her forehead again and again. “I thought she would die.”

“I have done what I can,” Vikka demurred. “Physica Nede is a Sculptor who specializes in reforming injured bodies; her services are expensive, but I can recommend her work.”

“Thank you,” the mother nodded vigorously. “Physica Nede; I will remember. Come my baby, the Physica has many more patients to see.”

“Thank you, Physica,” the little girl said shyly as her mother led her away.

“I hope they go to the Sculptor,” Brandt-Faran murmured.

“They may not be able to afford it,” Vikka sighed. “At least she is not a boy, whose prospects hang on his beauty. She may still be wooed for her cattle and land. Ah, this is melancholy speculation. Come, honored Faran, we have work to do.”

Brandt-Faran nodded, stood up, and stumbled.

Vikka was instantly at his side. “Are you well? Are you feeling drained? Hungry? Light-headed?”

He shook his head; in fact, being an Anchor rather seemed to invigorate him. “My leg cramped from sitting in that position, that’s all. The only thing affecting me at the moment is the smoke.”

She nodded understandingly and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It does give one a headache, but there’s nothing we can do. We only have one sylph, and ‘tis at the end of its span, I’m afraid.”

Brandt-Faran glanced over at the sylph cage in the corner. The tiny thing did seem drained, but, “Wait a moment.” He left the medical tent and climbed a little ways up the hill behind it, to where some purple desert lilies bloomed.

“Here,” he said, pushing the flowers through the bars of the cage. The sylph glanced wearily up at him, but brightened when it saw the flowers.

“What are you doing?” Vikka asked curiously.

“Feeding it. Sylphs need more than sugar-water to survive for long. See?” He said after a few moments, as the invigorated little creature began to flap its wings more energetically, creating a fresh breeze for the tent.

“Astonishing. You barbarians are so close to nature,” Vikka smiled admiringly. “That will help all of us, I think.”

A tall Khanyan man with deep amber eyes, wearing a lion-crest tunic over his armor, pushed frantically into the tent. “Is there a Physica?”

“Here!” Vikka called, raising her arm.

“Thank the Healer,” the man sighed fervently, and leaned back out of the flap. “She’s here! Bring him in!”

Four large men entered, carrying a fifth man between them; a man whose tanned skin was burned a deep red in places, whose face and long, golden hair were streaked with soot.

“Jaeger?” Brandt-Faran blurted in shock.

The tall Khanyan glanced at him. “You know him?”

“Put him over here,” Vikka ordered, indicating a vacant space. The four men laid Jaeger-Tau down on the blanket Vikka indicated, then backed away. From her voluminous sleeves, the Physica produced a pair of sharp scissors, which she used to cut away the remains of the Norseman’s clothes.

“I need an obin,” she called into the air.

“Here!” It was Onil, the fresh-faced obin Brandt-Faran had met earlier; only now her clothes were damp with sweat and blood, her face tired and grim.

“Get his sandals off, would you?” Vikka ordered. “And bring me some water.”

Onil gulped. “Water? How much?”

“Half a gallon.”

“Half a gallon?” Onil gasped. “But how do we know he can afford--”

The tent flap parted again. “I will pay for it,” said a tall, golden-skinned woman with bright-water eyes.

Brandt-Faran stared, open-mouthed, at the woman for a moment. Hours in the medical tent had taught him many things, the most startling of which was that water was not considered a right here in the desert. Even with the lake so close, every cup of water was rationed by vouchers given out by the Royal Water Ministry. Who was this light-skinned Khanyan, that she could afford to spend half a gallon of water on a slave?

*

Jaeger-Tau floated in and out of consciousness. Images, voices, scents swirled about him, leaving a series of confused impressions.

A sylph floated above him, sending drafts of cool air over his burnt, parched lips and cheeks.

Tevi called his name. Orian called his name. Brandt called his name.

Rough hands dragged him over burning coals; he tried to fight back, but he couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.

A sylph floated above him, chiming.

Fire burned, but it did not touch him.

Cool water, soft hands.

“I will pay for it.”

He woke to a plain canvas ceiling and the sounds of a hospital room. “Hello?” He croaked; his throat was drier than the sand under his back.

A face leaned over him, resolved itself into… “Brandt?”

“Shh,” Brandt-Faran whispered. “‘Tis Faran here. How are you feeling?”

“Dry,” he coughed.

Brandt-Faran withdrew from his sight for a moment, then returned with a wet cloth and a bare dipperful of water. “Drink carefully,” he cautioned. “I do not know if the Great One will be willing to pay for more than this.”

Jaeger-Tau lifted his head and eagerly slurped the tepid water down. “Thank you,” he sighed, laying down once more. “What are you doing here?”

“Anchoring for the Physica. Apparently,” he smiled briefly, “I have some small talent.”

“Oh. That is...wait. What do you mean, pay?”

“For the water,” Brandt-Faran explained. “They ration water here; did not you know?”

He hadn’t, actually. “Oh. Of course. Was the Great One a -- did she have turquoise eyes?”

“Yes.”

Jaeger-Tau sighed with relief. “That is Lady Orian of Nekare. Is she still here?”

“Ye-es,” Brandt-Faran said after a moment, “but I would wait if I were you. She’s speaking with another Great One.”

“Who?”

Brandt-Faran turned pale, worried eyes down to his friend. “I think she’s the one to whom this camp belongs. And -- I do not think she is long for this world.”

*

“Mare,” Orian whispered gently. “Mare, can you hear me?”

The woman before her opened cracked and blistered lids a mere slit. “Who--?”

“‘Tis Orian, my friend,” she supplied. “I came as soon as I saw the smoke. Can you tell me...what happened here?”

“Don’ know,” Osumare mumbled, her lips so swollen from her burns she could barely speak. “Was luncheon...fire…’sploshun...stuck t’me like oil…”

“The fire exploded?” Orian gasped. “How is that possible? I thought you only used mage-fire around the animals?”

“Do,” Osumare insisted painfully. “On’y mag-fur...impossbl’...caught me an’ herd-missrus...impossbl’!”

Orian’s blood ran cold. Though Mare’s speech was garbled, her sense was not; the woman obviously thought the fire had been some sort of sabotage.

Like the scorpions, or Wetelanja’s murder. Someone is coming after her, too!

Orian folder her hands between her knees to stop herself from touching Mare’s crisped skin as she leaned forward. “Mare, do you think someone planned this?”

Mare’s eyes opened wide, and she nodded twice.

“Oh, Merciful Mother.” Orian covered her eyes with her hands. “What is happening to us?”

Mare made a questioning sound.

“Yes, someone has been trying to sabotage me as well, but I cannot understand why! Neither you nor I were ever real challengers for the throne; why attack us? Especially two friendly Houses like ours, they must know we would speak and discover the connection.”

Mare grunted. “Don’...think I was...s’pose t’ survive...t’ tell,” she gasped. “Others...dead...I won’...live long.”

“Don’t say that,” Orian protested. We have a Physica right here, and we’ll get you the best Sculptors once you’re Healed!”

“Phys’ca...said...too mut’...damage,” Mare wheezed, then coughed -- a wracking, painful sounding cough that left her with blood on her lips. “Ori.”

“I’m here.” Orian choked around the sob in her throat.

“House Ng’ombe...will fall.”

“No!”

“Yeh. Too mut’...debt...no water...no way t’...recov--” Mare gasped and lay back, hands clutching at the silk blankets beneath her ruined fingers.

“Save your strength, my friend,” Orian said gently. “We can speak more later, you need--”

“No! Mus...tell! Please!”

“All right, all right now, I’m listening,” Orian soothed. “Tell me.”

“Ng’ombe...Nekare...we’re neighbors.” Mare stopped, gasped, tried again. “Fathers’ fathers ...cousins...precedent...titlemen’...”

Suddenly, Orian understood her. “Oh, no. Ohhh, Mare, don’t do this. Your House will rally, all it needs is time to recover!”

“No...time!” Mare insisted. “No blood but…me...please, Ori-shan.” With great effort, the lady reached out and grabbed Orian’s hand with her own blistered claw. “Save...my people...please.”

Orian wanted to protest. She wanted to insist that Osumare would recover, or that her death, without a husband or children to carry on her name, would not spell death for House Ng’ombe -- but it would be a lie. She could feel the truth of Mare’s fears with every beat of her pulse against her friend’s burned, bleeding hand. Osumare was dying, and with her, House Ng’ombe would die. Its debtors would come and strip their house and lands of everything valuable -- and if that was not enough to repay what they owed, the freewomen of Ng’ombe would be obliged to become servants in the loaners’ households. Even if not, a woman without a House was nothing. A woman who had lost her house through ill-fortune was considered bad luck -- how would the Ng’ombe people survive?  

There was one way. It made Orian sick to think about -- but it was the only one left.

“Very well, Mare-shan,” she whispered, squeezing the other’s hand gently. “I will bring the scribe and the priestess.”

Osumare fell back onto her cold-spelled pillows with a relieved sigh. “Tank ‘oo.”

*

Across the tent, Jaeger-Tau had struggled into a sitting position. His skin still felt hot, but no worse than a sunburn, and his lungs were clear of smoke -- the Physica knew her trade well.

“What do you think they say?” Brandt-Faran murmured to him.

“I do not know,” Jaeger-Tau shook his head. “But whatever it is, my mistress is distressed.”

“How can you tell? Her back’s towards us.”

“The set of her shoulders.”

Brandt-Faran was about to scoff, then stopped himself, remembering how Einar always said the same thing about him. “Perhaps they say good-bye.”

“Then she will need me,” Jaeger-Tau sighed and began to struggle to his feet.

“Whoa now, wait a blessed moment!” Brandt-Faran protested. “You’ve just had a major Healing. You need rest. Let the Great One call on her other servants!”

“I shall rest afterwards.”

“Jaeger, you almost died!”

Jaeger-Tau turned to regard his cousin with what Brandt-Faran had always privately thought of as his “Prince of the Blood Royal” expression. “I am aware of that, cousin.”

Brandt-Faran sighed in frustration; he was not winning this particular argument, and he knew it. “Why must you always be such a -- fine. Do what you will. Kill yourself from over-exertion, I care not. But are you also aware that you are naked?”

Jaeger-Tau looked down briefly. “Oh. I, um…”

“Idiot.” Brandt-Faran rolled his eyes. “Wait here. I’ll find you something to wear.”

*

When Orian stood up, she found Jaeger-Tau standing behind her, barefoot and dressed in a plain linen kalasiri. “Tau!” She exclaimed. “You should be resting!”

“I feel well enough to serve, O Attentive and Concerned,” he bowed slightly. “Tell me what you need.”

She almost reprimanded him, but something in his expression told her he was going to be stubborn about it. “Fine. Go find Tevi. Tell him to bring a scribe and a priestess of Mordron; then ask Latifya to come to the medical tent. And find that damned Physica! She may not be able to save Mare’s life, but she can at least make her last hours more comfortable.”

“It will be done, Great Daughter,” Jaeger-Tau assured her.

Orian returned to her place beside her friend as her slave ran to do her bidding. “It shall not be long, Mare-shan. Be strong.”

Mare regarded her with surprisingly shrewd eyes. “Th’ man…”

“Tau? What about him?”

“He...loves…’oo.”

Orian’s hear thudded in her breast. “What?” She laughed nervously. “He’s devoted to his duty, that is all.”

Mare shook her head ever-so-slightly. “Men who...almos’ die...don’ go run...for anyone. He loves…” she trailed off, coughing.

“Save your breath for something more than idle gossip,” Orian chided, but gently. “He is a good man, and that is all I will say on the matter.”

“Why?” Mare grinned weakly. “Dead women...tell...no...tales.”

*

Tevi and Tau returned within the hour, trailing a well-dressed scribe and a concerned Mordron priestess. The two men showed the ladies over to Osumare’s bedside, where Latifya and Physica Vikka had joined Orian to wait.

“How may we serve the Great Daughters?” The priestess asked.

Orian lifted her chin. “Osumare, Great Lady of House Ng’ombe, would like to pledge fealty of her line to House Nekare.”

The priestess looked back and forth between the two women. “Fealty oaths are only sworn on deathbeds, and only by the last of a line. My lady Osumare, is this truly what you wish?”

Mare nodded firmly, once, twice, thrice.

The priestess looked reluctant. “Are the Great Ladies of both Houses present?”

Latifya raised her hand slightly. “I am Latifya, Great Lady of House Nekare.”

Slowly, painfully, Phyisca Vikka helped Osumare into a slightly more raised position. “I am...Osumare…” she gasped. “Great La-...dy of...House...Ng’...ombe.”

The priestess closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. “Very well. Then witness all, on this tenth day of Satyrnalia, in the year of our Lady 5777 After Landbreak, this transfer of fealty. Witness the transfer of the lands, wealth, and peoples of Ng’ombe to the blood and Banner of Nekare. Lady Osumare, do you willingly swear your loyalty, and through you, the loyalty of all Ng’ombe, to the blood and Banner of House Nekare?”

“I...do.”

“Do you understand that in so doing, you hereby strip yourself of the title of Great Lady, and shall leave this plane a freewoman of no family, no lineage?”

“I...under...stand.” Mare closed her eyes weakly.

Orian put her face in her hands.

“Lady Latifya of Nekare,” the priestess continued in a sterner tone. “Do you hereby pledge to take all the peoples, lands and goods of House Ng’ombe under your Banner; do you swear that the blood of Nekare will protect the blood of Ng’ombe from this day forth, until the moon falls from the sky?”

Latifya nodded firmly. “I do so swear.”

Orian stifled a sob.

The priestess glanced at her, gaze softening. “And do you, Great Ones of Nekare, pledge to take into your House and your bloodline one Osumare of No Line, freewoman of no birth? Do you pledge to keep her as your own, even unto death, and bury her with all due respect for a daughter of your House? You may deny this oath with no consequence.”

Mare’s eyes popped open in surprise. “Wait...I didn’...mean…”

“Yes!” Orian replied joyfully. “Oh yes, Holy Mother! We do so swear!”

To her credit, Latifya paused only the briefest of moments to consider the cost a funeral for a daughter of the House would cost her. Osumare was their friend; they could not let her wander the afterlife with no family to guide her to the correct heaven. “We do so swear.”

“Then by the power entrusted to me by the Great Mother Mordron, Chief of the Nine Faces, I declare this oath binding from now until the moon falls from the sky.”

“Heard and witnessed,” said Tevi, the Physica, Brandt-Faran and Jaeger-Tau.

“And inscribed for all to see,” said the scribe, finishing out the ritual.

The priestess smiled briefly at them all. “‘Twas a brave, selfless thing to do, my dear,” she said to Mare. “And you girls show yourselves worthy of her trust.”

Orian sniffled back another sob. “We love her, Holy Mother.”

Latifya put an arm around her sister, and smiled down at Mare. “We do.”

Mare closed her eyes; two pink tears tracked their way down her ruined cheeks. “T’ank ‘oo.”

The scribe collected a drop of blood from each of the signatories and witnesses, then used her magic to create several copies. “I will ensure a copy makes its way to the estate manager of Ng’ombe-that-was, and one copy stored in the Royal Reserve.”

“And I shall go myself to Ng’ombe to make a census,” Wise Mother Tiksi said, poking her head inside the tent.

“Thank you, Wise Mother,” Latifya nodded solemnly.

Orian looked up. “And tell any of the Ng’ombe women they are welcome to come to Kinshasa for…” She trailed off awkwardly.

“For my...funeral,” Mare whispered. “Tell...them...to bring...my Mau-cat.”

Tiksi nodded. “Of course, Great Daughter.”

“Not...Great...Daught’...anymore.”

“You are a Great Daughter of House Nekare, my dear,” Tiksi reminded her gently. “We honor our blood.”

The dying woman smiled slightly.

Osumare lasted until sunset. At her request, Tevi and Jaeger-Tau had carried her outside to see the light fade.

When she breathed her last, it was surrounded by her friends, her new family, and every single herder who had survived the fire, with a priestess of Mordron to bless her on her way.

Together, the mourners kindled pure white mage-lights and set them free -- where a ring of chiming sylphs sent them wafting into the sky on a soft, warm breeze.

*

“You what?” Yazi screamed.

He smirked, sipped cynterine. “Don’t worry, my flower; nothing comes back to you.”

“That isn’t...I don’t care if it comes back to me!” Yazi paced about her private tent, scrubbing her hands frantically over her short-cropped hair. “There were children in that camp! You promised me no more children would be harmed; you promised!”

“Did I?” He looked up as though trying to remember. “I cannot recall.”

Yazi could recall perfectly, but she knew from experience that when He adopted that tone, it meant He would never admit it; He would deny the truth until Yazi herself wasn’t quite certain of it.

So she switched tactics. “But why Osumare? She’s behind me in the rankings! She’s no threat -- and dammit, she’s the last of her line!”

“Exactly.”

Yazi stopped cold, a stone of dread in her throat. “What?”

“You needed more of a connection to the common people, my dear. House Ng’ombe has over a thousand citizens in its care, plus close ties to dozens of common merchant houses. Without a Great One to rule it, it will become the property of its creditors -- unless Osumare swears fealty to a sympathetic House before she dies.”

“No,” Yazi whispered. “No.”

“Yes,” He pulled a parchment fold out of His belt-pouch and handed it to her. “You will send this message to House Ng’ombe’s encampment, expressing your deepest condolences and offering to shelter the shattered remnants of their House under your blood and Banner -- out of the goodness of your heart, of course.”

She did not take it. “Mare would never agree to that. It would mean the end of her bloodline!”

“”Tis the end of her bloodline anyway, my dear. And your mothers were fourth cousins, so there is every familial bond to back your claim. It will look even better once people know you sent one of your favored slaves to serve as anchor to the lead Physica on the scene; masterful move there, flower. Even I could not have done better.”

“I didn’t send him for -- it wasn’t like that!”

“Wasn’t it?”

Yazi pressed her hands against her temples. What was happening? She had never agreed to this. It was one thing to attempt to intimidate a rival into dropping out of the Queenmaker -- and even then, Yazi was sick over the loss of a child to her scheming -- but acquiring other women’s Houses by nefarious means? Impossible!

“Uyaza,” He said.

“No,” she shook her head. “I cannot. I won’t win this way.”

“Of course you will.”

“I mean I will not win this way!” She shouted. “Just -- get out. Leave me.”

In a moment, He was on her, strong hands closing about her throat. “You. Don’t. Tell. Me. When to leave.”

She struggled, but He was far too strong. Her eyes darted towards the entrance, where two guards waited just outside.

“Go ahead,” He purred. “Call your dogs. Shall we see if I can push their minds before they reach for their pitiful weapons? It would be a shame if Lady Uyaza was killed by her own men, now wouldn’t it? They wouldn’t remember a thing, of course -- but that wouldn’t save them from the dungeons, or you from the grave.”

“They are loyal to me,” Yazi choked.

“Then call them. But first, tell me...who is there to manage the burial rights for you? Just in case. Wouldn’t want your spirit roaming the netherworld for eternity, now would we?” His eyes gleamed black in the light of the dying sun.

Yazi went limp. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

“I can barely hear you, flower,” He growled. “What did you say?”

“Forgive me, master. I -- I will send the letter tomorrow.”

“Tonight.”

She closed her eyes, and two tears leaked from their corners. “Yes.”

His fingers flexed, loosened. “You know I’m only doing this for you, don’t you? So you can be queen.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“You know I love you. Don’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

He pressed a brutal kiss to her lips before releasing her.  “That’s my girl.”

Yazi curled up in a ball at his feet, trying to press the misery out of her stomach and breathe the pain out of her throat.

________________________________

Chapter 14, coming soon!