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Okay people! Please, please, please start reviewing. Don't make me start hording these. I will turn into the Scrouge of fictionpress if you don't. And for those of you have been waiting forever, Justice Slayer is the next update.
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I'm serious about the review part.
Chapter 5
Within an hour or so the Healer was in my room, feeling my head, throat, arm pits, waist and finally my stomach. For which the Lord, who was and had been standing my doorway looking for all-the world like a gargoyle getting ready to bite someone’s head off, spoke. “You think she is with child?” he asked, the stern look on his face becoming even more so, if that was at all possible. He was already reminding me of male Medusa just standing there and making me feel incredibly uneasy as he did so. What has he got to feel so grumpy about? I was the one being felt up by their hack healer.
No! I am not! I so badly wanted shout. Sadly I had to settle for fisting my hands in the blankets I was currently buried in. A thing the lord had insisted on. Claiming my little episode outside as the possibly of my fever returning.
“Perhaps,” the Healer replied easily, receiving a wide eyed and panicked look from me. NO! I’M! NOT! “But I must make certain. If you would kindly leave the room for a moment milord.” What! No don’t. He’ll try. I don’t know what he’ll try. I don’t even want to think what he’ll try. But he’ll try something! And end up as crispy critter when he does.
With a short nod the Lord left, no hesitation, no questions, not even a look my way. He simply, turned around open the door and left. What the hell! He goes through all the trouble of seeing to my care and now decides that dumping me in another man’s lap is expectable, even if it is only momentary. Get your grumpy butt back in here.
“I’m not pregnant.” I stated as soon as the door clicked close. Looking right into the Healers eyes I grabbed his hands and said it again. “I swear I’m not.”
For a moment he said nothing, just sat on the edge of my bed and held my eyes, before showing a soft smile. That was scaring me more than being alone in the room with him was.
“Your pride will drown you as it has so many before you,” he finally spoke and to my surprise I knew the response.
“Not pride, but hubris. A thing that has brought down many of my siblings, but I will the rest safe.” I replied automatically, still shocked by his words. “Who are you?”
“I am Alaster Corday, Saga of the Praesus of France under Regis St. Clair.” He smiled, “And you?” he asked pleasantly.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. There was no way. All this time and he’d only been a cough away. The Healer was a Guardian! That couldn’t be true. He wore nothing to identify himself. No ring, bracelet, necklace, tattoo, not even an embroidered piece of cloth. He had to a hunter. There were hundreds of those during the dark ages. But then if he was a guardian… he wouldn’t show it as openly as we do, did, will. He would have it hidden. But it would be on him.
“Yo-yo-your Seal? Do you have it? May I see it?” I questioned shakily.
“Of course.” He said pulling down the neck of his robes to pull out a large brass medallion about the size of my palm with a large flat green stone in the center, Celtic knot work decorating the edges. To my relief the moment I touched the stone the image of the Estolie a wavy six-armed star, which served as the Saga’s mark, shined to the surface and quickly faded away, something that would only happen when two Guardians came in contact with it.
“Were they hunting you little one? Is that why you ran?” At his question my expression went from bemused shock to total confusion. “I’m a Healer. I can find nothing in your mind to make you forget.” He explained, with a small shake of his head.
“Not hunted.” I shook my head, “But-“ my words were cut off as a knock on the door sounded followed by the Lord as he entered once more.
“I believe you’ve had enough to time check her state. Master Healer.” The Lord stated as he entered the room entirely.
“Yes. And I’m happy to say she’s not with child. It seems she was recalling something. Nothing more. But just to be safe, encase the event should reoccur, might I have leave to stay in your lovely home milord?” Alaster asked.
With a nod the Lord agreed waving in a servant to show Alaster to one of the guest rooms. While he stayed in mine, at the door guarding it. Once Alaster was gone the Lord quietly shut the door and turned directly to me.
“You” he began, his tone as hard and unrelenting as his face had been as he watched the healer examine me. “will not leave this room unless someone has come to take you from it. Is that understood?” he stated.
With a nod of my own I replied and once more he opened the door and left.
Great!
In nearly two hours I’d gone from house arrest to a single cell, lavish though it may be. And my blood thirsty Healer was actually a Guardian. Why does this keep happening to me? I try to escape my would-be royal husband, and end up in the dark ages. I try to find a guardian and it turns out ones been treating me since I got here. I have the weirdest luck. I thought bitterly, glaring at the fire as it twisted and snapped in the hearth, mimicking my sour mood.
The next morning I came down with an escort of Annette and a middle-aged woman by the name of Claude. Something I would have thought she’d been doing to my head when she’d come in to do my hair this morning. The woman twisted and yanked at my skull as though she were trying brush out dread locks, until I’d finally grabbed the brush from her and put my unruly hair back into my own skilled hands. After my hair was finished and my attire for the day was chosen, a simple red gown with black trim. They led me down the hall, down the stairs, all the way to the dining hall.
Where, a well aged woman beautiful in her winter attire of cobalt blue and gold and black trim sat at the head of the long dining table. Alaster sat in the middle directly across from the empty seat I assumed was mine. Already helping himself to a plate of sausages, bread and something that looked like grits. Upon seeing me Alaster paused in his eating long enough to offer me a small warm smile.
“This is the girl?” The woman practically barked, in question to Alaster’s little smile.
“Yes, milady. This is she.”
“She looks Spanish. Though I must admit she’s far to fair skinned.” She sneered as if disappointed that I wasn’t.
“Italian perhaps?” Alaster offered helpfully between a mouthful of sausage. “Dark hair is common among their people.”
“Its common among the Jews too.” she hissed, glaring icy daggers at me as she did. “Well girl. Tells us are you a Jew. Is my guess correct and you’ve acted this illness thinking to gain a title by bewitching my son with your dark charms.”
“Milady I can assure you her symptoms are genuine!” Alaster clamored, snapping up from his seat as he did.
“Oh indeed Doctor. When she first arrived I’m quite certain she was ill. But now that’s she awake. How easy it would be to play that she still is.” The woman replied, not even bothering to hide her cold disgust of me.
“Mother that is enough!” Came the Lord Patenaude’s thunderous voice from behind me as he entered the room. Shocking me out the odd little world I’d been standing in until that moment. A world where I was being insulted, and interrogated, by a beautiful woman, who would probably have no problem making sure something very unfortunate happened to me if I did indeed somehow end up attached to her son. It was a cold feeling to be the center of that much hostility. Something I’d felt once before the day I’d burnt my junior high down. I didn’t like it then, and I liked even less now.
“It is not.” She shot back. “You came to me looking for her identity and in less than a fortnight we have received no news of missing daughters, sisters, cousins, wards, not even a wife. Nothing!” she spat, steely gaze fixed on my like an eagle getting ready to swoop in for the kill. “What else am I to believe save that?”
“Have you received replies from all your contacts?” The Lord replied evenly leveling his mother with an equally chilling gaze. “Then I suggest you wait until then to throw your accusations at my guest.” He added swiftly when she did not reply.
And with that she stood from her chair, which was quickly moved back as she left the dining hall, in a quite smoldering fury.
“Please forgive my mother. I am her only child and as such she can be very over protective of me.” The Lord offered as he came to stand next to me.
“I can’t think of a Mother who wouldn’t try to protect her child.” I replied, absently. My eyes glued on the hallway she had vanished down. Thinking idly on my mother as my words drifted into my head. She been protecting since the day I was born and doubly so since the day my powers had manifested. It was hard to think of her now that I was alone with no one, but myself to depended on for protection. I’d taken her, my brothers, even my grandparents for granted. “Besides, if protection is something that needs to be forgiven, I would rather not.” I added with a fake smile as I looked back to the Lord.
With solemn nod the Lord yielded to my wishes and gestured to my chair. Walking towards it watched as a servant came forward than stopped as the Lord waved him away and pulled the chair out for me himself.
“Your seat Lady Angelia.” He smiled, when I looked at him somewhat puzzled by the name.
“Angelia?” I questioned as I took the seat. My stomach sinking slightly with the name he’d address me by. Did he know? He couldn’t know. I hadn’t told anyone my name. Not even Alaster.
“It seemed a fitting. Given how it seems the Angels must have mistaken you for one of their own, before kindly leaving you at my door.” He replied as he took his own seat, and I felt my face heat up with an unexpected blush. Okay so he still didn’t know who I was and had quite the sliver tongue.
“I think the Lady is pleased with your choice you of name milord.” Alaster remarked with a chuckling grin, as he watched me and scooped up a spoon of the grit like food from his plate.
“Perhaps,” I offered quietly. “Could it be Angelica?” I asked, looking to the Lord hopefully.
“Angelica?” he repeated a question in his tone as he said the name.
“Yes. I’m not French. If nothing else I know that much.” I shrugged.
“And you would know this how?” the Lord asked, with curious tilt of his head.
“I have an accent.” I explained. “I can hear it.”
“Angelica.” He said it again, as though he were trying it on for size. “Very well. Angelica it shall be.” He nodded approvingly. “Now eat you’ll never get your strength back if you do not eat.”
“You’ll forgive me if I disagree milord.” Alaster replied off handily as he pushed his now empty plate to the side for a servant to take. “Being how fiercely she hits when she’s ill. I shudder to think how much more her blows will ache if she is not.” He chided pleasantly, as he cast me a side long glance and a wink.
“Not to worry Master Healer. There shall be no more such out bursts.” The Lord assured him with a nod while casting a fatherly warning. “Will there?”
“No.” I replied biting my lip slightly as I did.
After a meal of greasy sausage and mostly bread, I hadn’t really wanted to try any of the other food presented; the Lord took me on a tour of the Chateaux. Showing me all the rooms I’d spent most of the last few days in and giving me their complete history. From how long it took to construct them to how the decorations had been chosen. I was completely bored after the first room and comatose by the time we got the great hall. My only saving gracing, being the numerous painting, all save two, of the Lord’s family decorating its walls. As he spoke I studied the colors, the brush strokes, the detail of the frames, even the constant frown that seemed grace the face of every portrait his mother was in. Did the woman never smile? Did she even know how to?
The ballroom was next and once again he went on and on about the great expanse it took to make and furnish the room. About all the great families that had, had the honor of being entertained in it. And I had no I idea why he thought any of this mattered to me. I had no idea who any of the people he was talking about were. Thank God I’d found a good cover story so early. After that he took me to the library. Now there was something I was interested in. The smell of old leather, the impression designs on the covers, the thick feel of parchment. These weren’t the thin flimsy paper backs of back home. These were detailed hand written works of art.
As he began to verse me on the history of yet another room I idly walked over to one of the shelves, tracing my finger along the spines until I’d found a book of some interest to me.
“Have you read The Canterbury Tales?” I asked, looking to the Lord as I pulled the book from the shelf. Canterbury Taleswas 14th century and this looked like it was in fairly good condition. Well at least now I had a pretty good idea of when I was.
“It was my fathers.” He replied haltingly, looking over the book as if it were some kind of disgusting bug, and leaving no doubt in my mind as to whom he’d inherited that expression from.
“But have you read it?” I asked again. “Or if there something else you prefer?” I asked putting the book back scanning the walls anew for works he might be interested in, anything to keep me from having to listen to yet another history on one of the many rooms of the Chateaux Patenaude.
“I prefer the spoken word to that of the written?” he replied stiffly.
“Oh.” I said and dropped my attempt to distract him. Scanning the room, I tried to think of something else we could do, anything we could do to end this tour. But nothing came to mind, save to fake case of womanly weakness. And I was not ready to cross that bridge just yet.
“It’s snowing.” I spoke idly when I noticed the bits of softly white drifting past the windows.
“It has been for some time.” The Lord replied, absently.
“Hm.” I nodded and looked back the Lord, steeling myself for the rest of the tour.
“Perhaps we should conclude this tour with walk about the grounds.” The Lord offered bring a small smile to my lips.
“Really?” I asked unable to hide the pleasure I was feeling. Not more tour. Yes!
With a smile of his own the Lord nodded and offered me his arm.
Wrapped in a thick fur cape, and the Lord at my side, we walked from the back of the Chateaux, to the entrance of the garden. It felt so good to be outside, unbelievably so in fact. And considering the fact that I’d just been outside last night I found my relief somewhat odd. It normally didn’t matter to me one way or another if I was inside or out. My chances, depending on the season, of setting something a blaze was pretty much the same year round.
“Are you content?” the lord asked pulling me from my thoughts. Replaying his words over in my head I thought on his question. Was I content? I didn’t know. I didn’t think I even knew what content felt like. And if I did I didn’t remember it. So I did what I’d been doing since I got here. I lied.
“Yes, very.” I smiled.
“Good.” The Lord smiled back. “Why were you out here last night?” he asked throwing me a conversational curveball. “Were you meeting someone?” he asked. His tone level, his face the same serious mask he’d worn last night in my room while Alaster had examined me.
“No.” I replied automatically, hearing the blare of my internal warning bells as he proceeded in his questioning.
“Then why were you out here?” he asked again, his voice losing some of its levelness, replaced with an urgency that was making me as uneasy as it had last night. “Did you think yourself well enough of a moon lit stroll?” he offered, and I would have thought he was teasing me if not for the cold sarcasm of his tone.
“I just wanted to be outside.” I replied, thinking nothing of my reasons for last night. Aside from that stupid pull I’d been feeling. A pull I was beginning to feel again right now.
“That is not a reason.” He replied his urgency now replaced with tampered harshness.
“It’s the only one I have. I tried going out during the day, but none of your servants would allow it.” I explained, thinking my words lame even to my own ears, but it was the truth.
“So you go in the dead of night, with no one to see you.” He stated. “And how many times have you snuck from my house, once, twice, half a dozen?” He asked the clam cold of his voice seeming to grow in its harshness. The seriousness of his face taking on a danger I hadn’t noticed before, especially in the pale green of his eyes, like staring into a field of glaciers ready to sink me at the slightest word.
“Last night was the first.” I squeaked, trying to stomp down the sense of panic that was rising in my chest and stomach. And that annoying pulling that was wrapping itself around my chest wasn’t helping. If anything it was making it very hard to breath.
The next thing I knew, his hands were on either side of my face, with his lips crushed against mine. Frantically I stuffed my hands behind my back, fisting them together, feeling the bite of my nails as they clawed into their backs. Sadly he didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t notice I wasn’t relaxing, he didn’t notice I wasn’t touching him and he certainly didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t kissing him back. And he only seemed to find encouragement in all those facts as he took full liberty to run his all over my body, making it increasingly more difficult for me to keep from burning him.
It wasn’t until I felt his hand grab my butt and nearly touched my hands. That I managed to push him away and fell to my knees as the pulling I’d feeling turned into a jerk, my hands wrapped themselves around my stomach clawing into the fabric of my gown.
“Angelica!” The Lord called knelling down in front on me. “What’s wrong? Are you pain?” he asked hastily, but all I could do was gasp, as the jerk in my chest pulled at me, wrapping tighter and tighter around my chest feeling as though it was trying to pull my heart out. “I’ll take you to the healer?” he said reaching around to pick me up.
“No,” I choked. “Bring him. Bring him.” I managed to chop out between gasps. “Go.” I yelled. And then he was gone and I was in the snow covered garden on my knees clutching my stomach, and gasping. Thinking sleepily how much they seemed to slow and soften in the last few seconds now the Lord had left me. And when I heard the snow crunch to my left I turn my head expecting to see the feet of the Lord and Alaster, and maybe one or two others. I wasn’t expecting the dirty clawed fingers, wrapped in equally dirty tattered cloth, and surrounded by the same. I wasn’t expecting a face wrapped in cloak and shadow to be only inches from mine.
“Why are you here?” I asked hazily, finding it hard to stay awake now that the jerking pull had subsided into a steady comfortable thrum.
“You.” The figure replied.
In spite of my tired mind I smiled and fell asleep.
“Finally awake?” Alaster asked pleasantly.
“How long have I been asleep?” I questioned groggily, as I pushed myself up from under my blankets.
“Two days. Is this normal for you?” he asked curiously.
“Not that I’m aware of. What happened to me?” I groaned rubbing my head as I tried to recall what had brought here. Again.
“I was hoping you could tell me.” He replied with a shrug.
“I don’t know. I was in the garden with Lord Patenaude. Then there was this sharp, sort of jerk in my chest. It felt like someone was trying to strangle me from within.” I replied seeing no need for him to know about the Lords groping session.
“What happened before this jerking in your chest. What were you doing?”
“Talking with Lord Patenaude.”
“Kissing?” Alaster offered with a knowing grin.
“He was doing all the kissing.” I bit back glaring at Alaster for thinking I’d enjoyed even one moment of that assault. “If that’s what you want to call it. I was doing my best trying not to burn him.” I grumbled.
“You’re a Pyro?” I nodded.
“And Retro, top level on both.”
“Top level?”
“Strongest.” I clarified.
“So the attention was unwanted?” Alaster remarked, continuing our previous conversation.
“I’m not here because I’m looking for a husband. Far from it in fact” I bit. “But that’s not the point. He was kissing me and taking full liberty of fact that I was doing nothing to stop him, mainly because I couldn’t without burning him. It wasn’t until he grabbed…me, that I felt the jerk, and somehow managed to push him away without burning him. Other than that I don’t know what happened.”
“Do you remember anything before you fainted?” he asked, watching me, gauging my reply.
“There…there was a figure.”
“Figure?” Alaster repeated, seeming to take special interest in this bit on information.
“A Sindian. I think he’s a hybrid. He had claws. But I don’t know what he was.”
“Is this the first time you’ve seen him?”
“No,” I shook my head.”It was the second. The First was… somewhere in the woods.”
“The woods.” He repeated, I nodded.
“I think he brought me here.” For the longest time Alaster said nothing as he sat in his chair running through what I had told him.
“You know nothing else of him. Breed, powers, nothing?” he asked, the look of urgency on his face making me think back on what I remembered of my encounters with the figure.
“He was dirty, filthy, his clothes were tattered, worn, covered in mud. I think he’s Panthera Clan.” I said all of a sudden remembering the two roars I’d heard in the woods. “There was roaring. I think he was the one roaring? Annette said the wind sounded like it was roaring the night I showed up. Why? What does he have to do with the jerking that made me pass out? Is the Lord Patenauden a Guardian?”
“Lord Patenauden? No. Why?”
“It’s just… before it was a jerk it was a pulling. That pulling was the reason I was in the garden the night Lord Patenauden returned.” I explained watching and seriously not liking the stunned look that was climbing up Alasters face. “Alaster.”
“It was not the Lord Patenauden.” He finally spoke. This words seeming to break him free of the shocked trance he had been in. “I most go to my Regis.”
“Could you take me with you?” I asked sounding all too desperate as I did. “I can’t be trusted to stay here if Lord Patenauden tries to…to…” I stopped, frustratingly fishing for a more appropriate word than ‘getting fresh’.
“He will not. Lord Patenauden left last night, to see his mother safely home. It will take him at least half a fort night to return. I will back in less, with help. Rest easy little one you are well kept in this Guardian’s hands.
Okay now you've read and enjoyed start reviewing. Now! The gouber goblins of groucho land command you to. Okay that was entirely lame.
Now for lamer. Please, please, please, pretty please with hot chocolate, cherries and whip cream all over Shateal's mummy body. (Those of you who have read the 1st version of Fire and the Furball, as well as Ice King past or present versions can totally appreciate that one.)
