OWL & THISTLE, EVENING
“No.. I have no one to return to. They … they were killed when the king took over.” Nabooru spoke, her voice breaking into little sobs as she clutched the coins tighter, her eyes roving around the room, trained much like urchins looking for a safe place to settle for the night. She took in everything, from the leftover food, the tally of books, and even the bag of coins splayed on the table. To so carelessly leave such belongings out in the open, even when just working with a child, was sloppy. All the better for Nabooru, as no one really doubts children, especially those running from the guards, no homes to return to. Children truly were the greatest spies, as they could be anywhere and everywhere, and yet blend with the background with ease.
“Porridge and wine? No no, I don’t really need all that, its too much.” Nabooru was quick to try and dismiss the favor, yet the grumbling of her stomach betrayed her, forcing a deep blush upon the lady's face. She looked down to the coin and bread, trying to hide her embarrassment and weakness she let slip from her.
“Thank you… and the guards were chasing me, claiming me a thief. I swear, I didn’t steal this gold, I found it in the gutters. I didn’t steal nothing.” Nabooru spoke, looking up to Olivia with the most sincere gaze she could muster, a pout of resentment turning her lip before she turned to the door, the maid from before returning with a steamy bowl of porridge, a plate carrying that golden yellow cream of butter, and a small mug for her. Beckoning the girl over, Nabooru was quick to move over, eyeing the spread of food like a king his treasure.
“This .. this is too much. Please, here!” Nabooru offered the two coins to Olivia, wanting to repay the kindness so readily offered, head bowed in grace as she felt her stomach rumble once more, hungrily licking her lips as she awaited Olivia’s words.
FRIARY GROUNDS
Diana was quick to join the group, caution halting her steps just shy of Byron as she watched Horatia greet the men, a clear joy in her actions upon meeting them. She watched as that flame of happiness flickered in her eyes, a worried look passed around the two men she was flanked by, Joaquim adding a shadowy presence that did little to ease the growing tension. She could tell when horrible news was quick approaching, and even more the unease that hung in the air like morning fog. Taking a deeper breath, she stepped forward to the ground, a soft clear of her throat gaining all eyes upon her. She shuddered mentally as the men focused on her, relief clear for but a moment as she gave them a clean break from the tension. Horatia would hate her for it, but it was better to get the men talking more than anything else.
“I assume you two are part of the resistance and had a hand in getting me out of the castle, for that, you have my gratitude. As for you sire, I remember you well, and I apologize for striking you down without warning. I had feared for my safety and freedom, and did what I thought best in the moment.” Diana spoke, curtsying to the two men. They both for a moment beamed with pride before Riga shifted his eyes between her and Brand, a mirthless smile crouching on his face.
“Wait, this is the princess that felled the mighty Brand? She’s barely half your height and nowhere near your weight?” Riga spoke, finally glad to have a break in the tension as he let out a deep laugh, poking at Brands expense, hearing a few chuckles that joined around him.
“Hey, don’t doubt her, Riga. She has quite the hook on her. Please forgive him, your majesty, for he has the same smarts as the common sewage rat.” Brand spoke, bowing to the princess as Riga let out a wounded ‘hey!’ in retort, yet all in good jest. The two were glad for the minor distraction from Horatia’s questions, taking any advantage they could to not talk about the pressing weight on their backs. Diana brushed off the words though, having broken the tension some in the air. Trying to hide the pride that she felt from their compliments, her eyes studied them, noting just how tense they had remained. Despite the ease in the air, she knew there was more than just a long ride weighing down the men more than a heavy rain. Her mind raced to the commoners and city, already panicking over the peasants and what her actions must have caused.
“Alfson has remained behind at the kingdom, an inside man working for Ignatio and Olivia. He knows the risks, but he knew that he was the best to remain there.” Riga spoke up, feeling like he could finally speak his mind, at least in the small hopes. He knew it would do little to ease the woman, as they had planned for them all to return here, yet fate and war had intervened in the best laid plans of more powerful people. He began to speak again, drawing breath mere moments before Diana cut in, drawing him up short.
“Tell me, what has happened since I was taken from the Castle grounds. What has happened to my people?” Diana asked the two of them, watching them sober up hard, reality slapping them in the face. Joaquim was the first to make his move, having heard plenty of the stories and tales. He may be the best to tell the tales, though everything else would be left for the proper men to speak.
“The kingdom is … faring poorly, your Majesty. The king has truly gone mad at having his bride stolen from him. Sinal has been hauling in noble and peasants alike, questioning them who have the smallest shred of new of your whereabouts, or of Horatia. Even more, he has offered a reward of 1000 gold to any who bring him news of either of you, and a fiefdom for those who can return the two of you back to the castle. Almost all beggars without remorse have been combing every inch they can to find even a small clue for you.” Joaquim started, trying to remain on the lighter side of the daunting tales of the Castle. He could already see the pain and anger behind Diana’s eyes, hurt at what the king had done to her people. He swallowed a suddenly dry throat and continued.
“The … the men who were guarding the gates, they .. they had been punished by being placed in the stockades and flogged, deemed to stay there for three days with no food or water. I am glad to say that they survived. Mostly.” Joaquim added, his words ending abruptly, unable to continue with the information. He wanted to speak more, but his eyes shifted between the woman, suddenly afraid of what his words would do to these two women. His mouth opened and closed, a few starting words and breaths began, yet nothing could start.
“Maybe we should find a place to sit and a drink. These men have had a long-.” Byron had begun, trying to ease the men towards the main hall, yet stymied by Diana's hand, raised in defiance as she fixed her eyes to the men. She could see it in their body, the news they wished not to share, and even more, the anger and sadness that would follow it.
“No. You men are not telling it all. Tell me everything this man has done. I have sworn to end this man and bring honor to those who have fought besides me, no matter the cost. We will not move until I hear it all.” Diana spoke, mustering up all the courage and command she could throw in her voice. The men were drawn up short, looking down to the princess both in shock and pride. The princess had spine, a much different presence than from when they had first seen her at the city square and even more at the castle gates.
“Your majesty, I must ask that we at least let them rest-.” Byron began again, yet was ceremoniously drawn short by a glare from Diana, knowing that angering her further was not a wise choice. He decided to remain silent and stood upright, crossing his arms in annoyed compliance as he let out a deep held sigh.
“Yes.. of course your Majesty.” Brand was the first to cave, steeling his nerves for the news he had to deliver.
“Joaquim speaks true though. My fellow knights and I had been forced to the stockades after the king detested us for letting you through. It was a price more than worth paying for your freedom, so please do not fret on that. I can assure you the other men will live beyond this, despite the grueling punishment.” Brand spoke, waving off any future apologies she may try and pass to them.
“The bastard had truly lost his mind though. Your personal maid … was punished unjustly for our efforts. She had been .. staked to the walls nude. Regrettably, she did not survive.” He continued, glancing his eyes to the skies as he tried to purge the image from his mind, already balking at the sight when the resistance had pulled her from the walls. He had no idea how long she had managed to survive on the wall, but knew the woman had suffered more than needed.
“And … I’m sorry Horatia. The king knew that it was your family that had helped the princess escape, and your father was the first to be dragged off. He would have made you proud, not once letting slip anything about you or what he knew.”
“The king did not take that well. He .. um .. there is no easy way to say this, but he had your father dragged to the square by horse and denounced his nobility before … I’m sorry Horatia, but there was nothing we could do to save him. Your father fell to the axe, yet not without showing his pride to the people and his hatred for the king.” Brand finished, letting the words sit heavy in the world. The tension had hit its peak, none of the men daring speak now, watching Horatia for her reaction.
What they hadn’t expected though was the heavy thud of Diana falling to her knees, skin pale as bones and eyes fixed beyond the veil. A tremble of a word sat on her lips, tears unburdened in her eyes as she slumped forward, catching herself with her hands as a tremble overtook her.
Inside, Damanius and Diana were at war with each other. Emotions rode over them, seething hatred to Sinal bastard as Diana cursed him mentally with every word she could conjure. Grief and loss fought together for Diana as she felt as though the hand of the devil had gutted her, leaving nothing but a deep cold that froze her bones. Anguish brought them together, binding them in a spiraling darkness as sound was replaced by a single keening ring, high pitched and blocking out everything. Their vision swam with tears and encroaching darkness as she stared fixated upon the ground, looking beyond its well work tracks into the deep abyss below.
For to the world, Damanius had truly died, known to live only to himself. Grueta had been his last comfort, the only person who knew who he really was, who had kept him safe for these last eight years. The one person he hoped to see most when he returned triumphant to the throne, beg forgiveness for all the foolish things he had ever done. Yet even now, Sinal had robbed him of that. One could not beg a spirit for forgiveness, nor pay respects to a woman left bare to the world, shaming her to all that walked the castle walls. He had been given time to grieve the loss of his family, able to speak words of comfort with them before they were killed. All he had with Grueta was a promise unkept to even himself. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye, and that was robbed from him.
Sinal had taken everything from him. His home, his family, his kingdom, and even now, his only friend and most trusted person. There was nothing left for Damanius, save a goal and a lie. A lie that had been forced to him for the sake of survival, and a goal that only came from his duty as the prince. Those facts did little to comfort him as his vision tunneled deeper into the ground, ignorant to the world behind him.
… Their voice spoke to them, a soft whisper barely heard.
‘He has stolen everything.’
‘He has dragged our family through the mud.’
‘He has soiled our home, desecrated our fathers room, and fouled the air with his sins.’
‘HE.’
‘MUST’
‘PAY…’
‘Pay…. Pay.. Pay for his sins with blood. Pay for every second stolen. Pay with pain for every breath he draws! PAY AS EVERY BONE IS BROKEN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN!! PAY WHILE BLED DRY! HUNG UPON THE WALLS TO BURN UPON THE PYRE!!! PAY AS HIS FLESH IS SEARED RED, BLOOD BOILED IN HIS VEINS!!!! ORGANS FLAYED AND SPEARED UNTIL ALL HE KNOWS IS PAIN!!’
A wash of red flowed through them, anger and rage gnawing and consuming any thought and hatred as it, sending limbs a tremble with fury unchecked. Their minds locked upon that mantra, ‘make him pay’ over and over, stoking the roaring flames, hot enough to engulf logic and reason, to push past ideals and thoughts. They let themselves be consumed in the flames, let it harden their bones and flesh, a rage so bright it blotted out the son. There was no Diana nor Damanius.
There was only rage.
A thirst so consuming it would drain the seas, a need for bloodshed so strong that the individuals were lost in that seething, writhing, burning, consuming flame. Warping them into a twisted scream of pain and anger, blurring emotions into a mass of directed rage, all aimed upon one single, unhinged idea.
“HE MUST PAY!”
Diana screamed her lungs out, the words ripping through her and into the night sky. Her body shot upright, head thrown back in a scream louder than a demon possessed, strong enough to stir even the dead as her head snapped forward, eye dilated as she focused down the road, looking miles ahead towards the castle. Towards the man who had taken everything from her. The bastard who sat upon their throne, mocking them with every breath he stole.
“HE WILL PAY IN BLOOD!!” Diana screamed in pure rage, the world around her consumed in the relentless blaze, her vision tunneling as it blotted out everything before her. Her legs moved first, the heavy thud against the ground rippling through her being as she took off, wind needling her flesh as he bolted into the night, each impact upon the ground pushing her forward, each shockwave that pulsed through her body a repeat of that same mantra, driving her forward. Pushing her onwards with each step, an unrelenting fuel of desire and bloodlust forcing air through her.
She would make that man pay with her own hands, to watch him bled dry in front her. She would kill that man tonight!
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