Authors: Breanna Hayse
Shannon
cried out as the lash left a long, red welt across the backs of her thighs. The
second pail of milk shattered as well, soaking them both. The fourth stroke
left another angry mark on her thighs, but this time, no milk pail was made an
additional victim. The final two strokes landed briskly on the underside of her
tender cheeks, and Shannon crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down her
face as she clutched her burning backside.
"When
you have composed yourself, I expect you to complete your tasks and clean up
this yard. You are then to join me in your chambers for lessons. Stop your
wailing, girl. Did you hear me?"
Shannon
nodded as she cried into her hands, her bottom feeling raw, and stinging
painfully. She had never realized how much protection her contraband
smallclothes had provided in the past! After the Grand Dame had left, she
carefully stepped back into the garments, wincing as the scratchy material
touched her raw skin.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her
sleeve and began to tidy the mess she had made, pausing to hug the goats and
sigh as they cuddled up to her. Overhead, the sound of thunder rumbling sent
chills to her spirit. Was that the work of her power, or of nature as it
brought spring to the lands? Despair fell over her heart and, without thinking,
she lifted her face to the sky and released a plaintive wail. Cold, sweet drops
of rain struck her face and mixed with the hot, salty tears on her cheeks. She
prayed that she would not be leaving one prison only to be placed in another.
"Your
Grace?"
Newly
crowned King Domitri d'Gavril raised his head from the table. "What it is,
Mikel?"
The
steward bowed his head. "You have not eaten today. Please, allow me to
have something prepared."
"I
have no appetite," Dom said, rubbing his neck. "I must finish these
accounts and then look over the collections."
"Sir,
if I may," Mikel placed his hand over the young lord's books. "You
have barely slept since your father passed on. I hear you coughing in the
evening as the dampness sets in, and I fear for your health. The only thing I
have seen you consume in excess is wine. You cannot continue like this."
"And
why not? What have I to look forward to in this life? Endless work at a table?
Never being allowed to go outside, for fear my enemies will put an arrow in my
back? Marrying a woman I have not met, simply because my father pitied the
wench?"
"So
that is what ails you! His Majesty told me that she was very fair."
"Appearances
can be deceiving, my friend. One would not think that to look into my eyes
would mean the loss of thought and life."
"The
responsibly of a king is great, Sire. Much more when the king holds a gift such
as yours. If you would allow me to assist you—"
"My
father did these accounts on his own and so shall I."
"I
handled all the affairs for your father while he was gone. I can do this for
you. Please, allow me."
"If he had spent less time whoring
and more time at home, he would not have needed assistance."
"Sire!
That was uncalled for," Mikel scolded. "Your father had two true
loves in his life. Your mother and the druid. There were no others."
"The
druid was not my mother. His carnal desire is what killed him," Dom said
bitterly.
"Your
father faced the Black Death. He had no control over his health. You do."
Dom
looked up at the old steward with bloodshot eyes. "Yet, the people call me
Moarte. Death. Was his passing painful?"
"The
girl has the power to take away pain. He was with her."
"Of
course he was," Dom said bitterly. "He would rather be with that
whelp on his last days than his own son."
"He
went to her for her birthday, and to give her the gift you had made for
her."
"I
did no such thing," Dom said, avoiding the steward's eyes.
"Why
do you lie to yourself? You commissioned the weaving of the shawl as a gift for
her coming of age. Is it that difficult for you to have people know of your
kindness?"
"It
was an obligation, not a gift. Father paid for it."
"Sire,
I must protest your—"
"Did you have the halls swept?"
Dom abruptly changed the subject.
Mikel
sighed, bowing his head in acquiescence. "Twice a day, Your Grace. The
dogs clean what falls upon it, and we have found another litter of kittens
behind the wall."
"Good.
That means that the cats are feasting well. They will keep the rats down. Make
certain all the peasants have the felines in their homes, and around their
livestock. The people must also be educated on sanitation. Try to get them to
bathe. Please."
"They
still hold fast to the conviction that bathing is a pagan ritual, and thus
refuse."
"Why
do people hold to such ludicrous beliefs? Some simple soap, water, and a
handful of sage would cleanse them of fleas and lice, and help them prevent
illness."
"The
words of the church have been beaten into them over these last few decades. It
will take time to teach the people how to think for themselves, now that the
overly zealous clergy has been removed. Patience is required, as they are
gently coaxed into trusting that their king has eliminated those who hurt
them."
"Father
has been battling the invaders for years," Dom sighed, rubbing his head.
"You and I are left rebuilding what the Ottoman Empire destroyed. If that
was not enough, he fought against the monarchy's insistence of separating the
classes, and maintaining ignorance among the less fortunate. It is utterly
ridiculous," Dom grumbled, pouring more wine for himself. "The truth
is that insecure rulers are fearful that their people are being given knowledge
equal to their own."
"What the nobility fears is that it
will lose control over the subordinates. Education gives people the ability to
detect when they are being cheated and lied to, which, as you are aware, is a
frequent state of affairs when it comes to lordships. The nobles fear
rebellion, and the enforcement of ignorance is the strongest means to preserve
power."
"I
have absolutely no desire for power, and I loathe ignorance. I wish to open a
school and teach my subjects to read and write. I want to reward those who pay
their taxes on time. I want people not to fear the coming of winter, or losing
their loved ones to disease. These are the things I want and will see through,
regardless of the cost. What I don't desire," he slammed his palm to the
table as he stood, "is to marry a dog-faced empty headed dolt of a woman
whom I cannot stand to look at, and whose endless prattle makes me grind my
teeth. I would be too tempted to persuade her to leave. Perhaps off the side of
a cliff."
"This
upcoming marriage is clearly disturbing you greatly. I must say, however, that
despite the rumors and your own doubts about this girl, your nature lacks the
type of cruelty to truly make you do her harm."
"Give
me some time and I'll find a way to develop it," Dom grumbled.
"I
remind you, Highness, that your father would not have chosen her for you if he
did not feel she was worthy of your attention or had concerns about her place
in your kingdom."
"Ah,
the faith you had in my father. Perhaps one day I shall be honored to have
acquired such loyalty and trust as he."
"Your
elite soldiers and I are loyal, and trust you with our lives."
"Yes,
but the elite are connected to me through parallel bloodlines. You are my
steward. None of you have much choice," Dom said.
"We
all have choices, Sire. While I still do not understand the unnatural
connection of the elite to you, I can say that those men hold a personal
affection and respect for you that has nothing to do with the bond. You saved
their lives during the invasion, and they hold true to you in their
devotion."
"Do
you believe in magic, Mikel?"
"I
believe that there are things on this earth that cannot be explained. Things
that science is not yet even about to understand. These things, for a lack of a
better word, can be viewed as magic."
"The
bond the elite have with me come from centuries of a blood-bond made among the
people of the mountain tribes. Some call it magic, others call it intuition.
Either way, they seem to be able to sense me somehow. Because of this, they
have been made my personal guard. Does that explain it a little better?"
Dom asked. "The loyalty and trust the people had for my father is what I
long for. There was no magic that held him in the hearts of his people, nor did
they fear him or his temper. Those are the things I desire, but will never
obtain."
"You
are yet young, Sire. Allow your people to know you."
"Nay,
I cannot." Dom leaned against the wall to gaze out onto the busy courtyard
within the castle walls. "To truly know me is to fear me. Better they fear
the rumors than witness the truth. Please see that they have those cats."
"Changing
the subject does not resolve the problem. Please, Sire, eat something, and
perhaps take a ride into the countryside. Spring has come very early this year,
and the day is warm. You need the fresh air and sunshine. It has been too long
since you were last outside."
"I
still have too many items to tally," the young king answered, as he
returned to his accounts.
"Why
will you not care for yourself the way you care for your subjects? Give them
the choice to know you as they did your father," Mikel pleaded.
Dom
shook his head. "No. Ignorance of what I am will be their bliss. Let them
know only the one who delivers the gifts."
"Why
don't you wish your people to see that you are the one sending them wine and
blankets, Sire? You have painted yourself as a demon in their minds. This name
they call you. Moarte. Does it not hurt your heart to be thought of as one who
brings death in the darkness of the night?"
"Why
is it that you cannot understand that these people have already suffered enough
over the years? The losses they have experienced have sent them to their knees.
Religion is the only thing they have had to hold on to, and I cannot take their
faith from them, even though I believe much of what they are taught is false.
Mikel," Dom said, inhaling patiently, "if they discover my secret,
they will refuse the offerings. Fear will make them think that the items I send
are tainted with witchcraft—or whatever other ridiculous folklore the
vile words of the English missionaries have embedded in their minds. I will not
be responsible for someone losing a child to a flea-bitten rodent, not will I
accede to a child having to witness his parents freezing to death because they
refuse to use the items that could save them. My secret must remain as it is,
and the only way to ensure that is to stay apart from them."
"You
can still have them know that their ruler cares for them, and that it is he who
pours these blessings upon them."
"You
are like a dog with a bone, Mikel." Dom leaned back in his barrel-shaped
chair, and tapped his fingers on the armrest. "People are greedy. If you
give them something, they will always ask for more. By distributing these goods
anonymously, I ensure they receive what they need, and am able to maintain my
solitude. The rumors regarding my, uh, disposition, prevent anyone from asking
me for more. My reputation also protects them from me, and the temptation to
use my powers to make them comply. My reasons are really quite selfish."
"You
are the least selfish man I have met," the steward sighed.
"If
I could be half the man my father was, I would be content. I ask that you now
put my interests aside and regain your focus upon my people. Say you?"
"I
am honored to serve, Your Majesty," Mikel bowed his head. "Besides
the distribution of the cats to the peasants, and the annoyance of constantly
sweeping the dining hall, how else might I be of service?"
"Did
we receive word regarding preparations for the female's arrival?"
"Yes.
The carriage is preparing to leave for Denmark and be picked up by Captain
Barton. They will make haste to arrive at the destination and then immediately
return. I expect her to arrive in late summer."
"Has
an escort of the elite been arranged to ensure her safety?" Dom asked,
unable to disguise the growl in his voice.
"Yes,
Sire. They plan to leave at sunrise. Four will guide her to the ship, and the
other six will be waiting to guard her as they travel across the land to reach
this castle."
"Have
they been made aware of what they might face?"
"They
have been warned, Sire."
"Good.
Their bloodlines should offer them protection should the rumors of this woman's
gifts be true."
"The
men would be more comfortable if you were there to lead them. They have never
faced druidic power before."
"They
will be fine. Each has been trained in the ways of protection."