Upheaval and Change - Tales 15

It opened. A tall young woman of around fifteen years stood in front of her, red hair tied back loosely and a suspicious statement on her face. It changed into one of brief shock.

"Oh! Captain!" The girl curtsied quickly. "I am sorry, I did not know it was you!"

Her eyebrows creasing together in confusion, she smiled slightly. "Are these Sir Amlyn's living quarters?" she asked hesitantly.

"Uh... yes! He is here. Please, come in." She stood back and allowed Deirdre to enter. She looked a little confused when the chest entered the room.

Waving the servants out of the room, she waited for the door to close behind them before she turned back towards the lass. "You must be Sir Amlyn's squire...?" she asked, searching for a name.

"Yes my lady. My name is Nia," she said shyly.

Deirdre smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Nia. Is Sir Amlyn available?" she asked gently.

Before Nia could answer, Amlyn limped out from the bedroom. He wore a loose white shirt of wool and faded brown leather pants. His skin matched the colour of his shirt, while dark rings lined his eyes. Seeing Deirdre, he stopped and made a brief attempt at a bow. "My lady," he said. "My apologies for my appearance, but I have been asleep."

Only taking a moment to ascertain his condition, Deirdre shook her head. "No, my apologies. I was unaware of the extent of your injuries. Have you seen one of the castle healers?" she asked, concerned.

"My wounds have been fussed over by the druids long enough. They require nothing but the passing of time now." Amlyn began to walk over to the table, but for some reason he stopped, and momentarily looked at Deirdre with a narrowing of his eyes, as if to examine her more closely. He looked away with a frown and continued, gesturing towards the food and mead. "Do you wish something to eat or drink?"

Frowning at the way he had looked at her, she shook her head. "I am fine, thank you." She hesitated before continuing, choosing her words carefully. "I have a personal matter to speak of, sir," she began, casting a glance at Nia. "I have been approached by a few men of your homeland."

Amlyn lowered himself gently into one of the chairs, extending his left leg out straight. "The Order," he said simply. "What did they have to say?"

"Many things," she began cryptically, her eyes straying towards the young lady again, uncertain as to whether to continue.

Nia made a move to exit the room. Amlyn saw the movement from the corner of his eye. "Stay," he ordered. "You should be here for this." She pursed her lips, but then set herself by the door, waiting with hands clutched together in front of her waist.

Her lips turning downwards slightly, she began slowly. "They bade me bring this chest to you, containing possessions that would remind you of who you once were. But before I allow you to open the chest, I would like to know what history you relate to me; I must determine what this man said was true, before you are turned by what the chest contains."

Amlyn watched Deirdre again for a moment, noticing the sudden coolness. She was indeed wary of him for some reason. But there was something else he couldn't quite put his finger on... until he finally realized.

"You walk under a shadow," he said. She appeared young to him, yet shouldering some unseen burden that he thought went deep under the hard exterior she presented.

Eyebrows raising, the captain eyed him coolly. "Excuse me?" she asked, more than a little riled. Who was this man to judge her - especially one whom she had heard such things about. Her jawline tensed. "Would you care to explain that statement?"

He smiled weakly, trying to diffuse some of the tension. "I am sorry, but I did not mean to appear rude. Can I please have your name?"

"I am Captain Deirdre Auburale, High Knight of Fire and Captain of the Royal Guardsmen." She couldn't conceal the pride in her accomplishments, but at the same time, she couldn't forget just whom she was speaking to. "I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I am responsible for the safety and welfare of the people within this castle, yourself as well as the king. Now, if you may, I would like to understand why you have such a set of strong willed people after you." Her voice was like ice with the piercing strength of daggers.

Ouch, thought Nia. She really doesn't like him now. She started to fidget, uncomfortable with the drop in temperature.

Amlyn tapped a finger on the side of his cheek for a few moments while deciding what to do next. He contemplated what it was that drove someone so young to such a title and position of importance. From his experience it was only the most senior and trusted of veterans that would even bother to apply for the post of Captain of the Guard. There was definitely something there, that lurked behind those green eyes, that aged her every time her head turned into shadows apart from the one she wore... something, of course, that she would be in no way willing to confess to a complete stranger. Especially one she regarded with so much suspicion.

"Aye Lady Auburale," he said finally. "You must do what is your duty." He got up, tired and suddenly uncomfortable and limped over to the window. First impressions were always important, yet they never seemed to make things any easier.

Taking the moment to attempt to swallow her anger, she reduced it to a simmering ember, though it was ready to flare again at the slightest urging. She stared at his back as he looked out the window at the near dusk sky, compelling him to continue with her unseen gaze.

Amlyn looked out the slot in the cold stone wall. This late in the afternoon, there was an orange glow from the horizon that gave the drifting clouds a warm lining.

"I would not presume to argue anything that the Order may have told you," he said finally. "You may consider that it is all true." He saw no point in going into details. Soon enough they would call on him to fight to 'defend' himself from their accusations. What really mattered was who remained standing at the end.

Despite her anger, Deirdre was shocked. Of all the things she had expected when she left her room with this chest, she had never imagined that he would simply admit to the charges brought against him. Yet, there had to be more to the story. It was too simple - and in her experience, nothing she had ever encountered was that simple.

"Sir Amlyn, I will have to ask you explain. They did not reveal much to me and I haven't been back in the city long enough to accumulate the rumors within the castle walls, let alone those outside. They have accused you of numerous war crimes - you admit to them all?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" he said. "I cannot begin to hide the past that I have. I would not even attempt to do so. What details do you need? The number of people I've killed? Countless. The villages I've destroyed? Lots. The lives I've ruined? Immeasurable." He rattled off the answers as fast as he could ask the questions. "What point is there in being precise? Unless," he said, turning to face her, "What you really want to know, is did I do all that willingly?"

It took a moment for the captain to compose her thoughts, but when she spoke, she was clearly in control of herself again. "What I wish to know is your reasoning behind turning against your own country. Why?"

Amlyn nodded. "A fair enough question: I would imagine that it appears that I am some sort of traitor." He turned back to the window. "I was born in Dinodig. But I ended up being fostered out days later. The people who would go on to raise me left the province and travelled to Llydaw to seek a new life. I grew up in that province, hence I fought for their army."

Deirdre nodded, not surprised. Part of the reason she had agreed to come was because she was certain there had been more to the story than Ysgarran had told her. It had seemed she had proven herself correct. "I see," she muttered. "The deliverer of this chest had failed to mention that little detail," she explained, motioning towards the centerpiece of their discussion.

Amlyn turned away from the window and walked across to the chest. He was silent for the moment, lost to thoughts of the past. Examining it, he took in it's familiar lines and designs. It was all a game, the same sort of game he played on them, but now the tables had turned and it was now his fate to be tortured in the same manner.

Still looking at the chest he spoke again. "When I said you walk under a shadow, I only meant that you have the appearance of one who is haunted by ghosts. I recognize it only because I wear similar shadows. Darker and somewhat more sinister, but shadows nevertheless. If your shadows are so important that they would cause you anger and hurt-" He looked up at Deirdre. "-then please understand that casting light on mine would be as painful to me."

Grimacing inwardly, she nodded slowly. She couldn't fault the man for that. It seemed he regretted his actions now; or, if not regret, then they haunted him much like her past haunted her. "I understand," she said quietly, but it was the only compassion she would allow him to see. For now, at least.

Amlyn inhaled deeply and opened the chest. He took out each item in turn, talking as he went. His brow was creased in concentration, as if he was expecting a wild beast to leap out at him at any second.

He picked up the letter and pouch of notes. Glancing at the letter briefly he put it down. Placing the notes next to it, he muttered, "My Life."

Next he picked up the tabard. "My Identity," he said, gently folding it up again and putting it to one side.

Pulling out the sword, he frowned. "My Authority." He resisted the urge to draw the blade, and placed it instead next to his tabard.

Finally he pulled out the dress. He was sweating now, beads of moisture trickling down the pale furrows in his brow. Confused he felt the dirty fabric in his fingers. "My... my..." He inhaled gently. A look of pure horror shot across his face, seconds before he fainted.

Ciaran left Amlyns chambers and made straight for the battlements where he saluted the guard on duty and dozed off in a corner, but only til sunrise. He had pressing matters on his mind ans had to see Hawk, no King Hawk, as soon as possible. Allyn had taken away most of Ciarans life, and Ciaran felt a dying need to repay the favour.

Ciaran proceeded along the hallways towards the throne room, passing doors where last year, in his innocence, he had played with the other boys. He regretted the loss keenly, the other children had had a chance to come of age naturally, whilst he had gone into the wild, chasing the kidnapper of his Master's wife, the Lady Isa. There he had been forced to use all the skills his father had taught him on the farm to survive on nature, and the skills the villages minor lord had taught him to habdle himself in combat, and finally the strength gained only through handling wild horses. It had been an abrupt coming of age, and in his heart the young High Knight grieved for the life he had lost.

He was still contemplating this when he rounded the corner and walked straight into some other. Stepping back he looked to see the King in front of him.

"Oh I'm sorry Hawk, I mean your majesty, I was just coming to see you." He tightened his eyes. "It concerns Lord Gretsworth."

Hawk was a little surprised to see the young man here, he had not seen him for awhile. "Ciaran, how have you been? are you still my father's squire? And what is this about lord gretsworth?"

"Erm." Ciaran blanched under the interrogation. "I have been away for a

while sir, I cannot really call myself a squire anymore. I am actually ready to take my promised place as a High Knight. But that is another matter, as for your father, the last I saw of him was, erm, a while ago, but I did lead a detachment in the battle, though my praises I would rather remain unsung."

"No your majesty." He moved to the kings side and began to walk with him. "I am approaching you with regard to the fate of Lord Allyn Gretsworth, the man who kidnapped your mother."

"I left your fathers service during the hunt for your mother, I was angry, and thought my Lord's justice too slow concerning the hunt. I left camp and made my way to the hut where the enemy was holding his hostages, but the hut was empty, I had been too late. Realising that I had disgraced myself, I did not return to Lord Iorwerth but instead made a hermit's life, away from the world. It was on a coach to Nethbo that I was ambushed by a scout force and realised what was going on. I saw the battle lines drawn an entered the enemy camp. There I retrieved these." The young warrior reached into his jerkin and drew out the papers of the enemies plans. "Useless now maybe, but I think they might have troop numbers, I cannot read to tell."

"why did you not go to my father at the time. This would have helped the Army." Hawk asked.

I was waylaid by a small camp of elite Nethbian infantry, by the time I had managed to elude them, the siege had begun, and there was no way into the camp."

"After causing much discord among the Nethbians I made my way to join your father, there I saw and followed Sir Amlyn, a valiant, if old, warrior. When battle was joined I took command of the mercenary detachment and saved Amlyn's life, but then I found I could not face your father. I took small lodging, and followed Amlyn out from the town back here. Where I found you had your mothers kidnapper in your care."

"Why a could you not face my father?" The King asked.

"I do not know, my Lord" replied Ciaran, a look of pain crossing his face. "The White Order may have had something to do with it. But for the most part I did not want him to refuse me, after what I had done."

Hawk did not say anything, but waited for the young man to continue.

Ciaran looked the King straight in the eye. "Through his actions in kidnapping your mother, Lord Gretsworth took away my chance at a normal life. I wish to challenge him to a duel, and I care not of the feelings our Captain of the guard may have for him."

The two then entered into the throne room, where Ciaran proceeded to put his Warhammer, his favoured weapon, on the ground before the throne.

"My Lord." He stated "I am ready to take the post of High Knight of Air which has been held for me. I hold my actions during the war as evidence of my capability, proof that Air is fitting, as Air comes and goes without being seen, like a saboteur in an enemy camp. I also offer those plans and this." He held forth the badge of a ranking member of the Nethbian Infantry. "Which was earned in single combat."

"I have to discuss this with my father, if you are ready. Or I would prefer that you discuss it with him. I cannot take a decision on this. Much of what I heard was valiant, but some of it sounded rash." Hawk said honestly.

"My Lord, it would be best for you to discuss it, but as King, you are the one who must make the decision. And finally my Lord" the young Knight finished. "As I stated, I wish to challenge Lord Gretsworth to a duel, for the honour of your father and mother, not for myself."

"I will take care of him." Hawk said calmly, losing his patience with the young man.

"My Lord that I cannot allow." stated Ciaran "He has hurt me as much as any other, and if you will not let me, then I will issue the challenge formally." And turning he began to stride from the room.

"Wait just one moment!" Hawk was angry now. "I am your King! And you do not walk out of this room until I give you permission. He has done just as much to me, and I will judge him. You will not challenge him, in fact you will not be able to until you are a full knight, and with the way you are acting I am not inclined to make you one."

"Your Majesty" Ciaran turned slowly to face "I have seen more war over this past year than I believe you to have done in your life. You are the first of a new line, and so have more - important matters to think of than this traitorous villain. And I can challenge, even when not a Knight I am the nominated defender of my village, and honour-bearer of a noble Lord. If you are going to refuse my rightful place because you are afraid of a High Knight who might contest you, then I will fight you, all the way." Ciaran stood stock-still, staring at the King. "Now, if you want rid of me, permit me to leave."

Hawk was furious now. "Don't you dare judge me, I fought in a lot of battles before I came here, you young pup! and you do not tell me what to do. If you think you can best me in battle. So be it. I will meet you on the tourney field at first light tomorrow." He roared, his famous temper finally breaking through.

"I had no desire to best you in battle, My Lord" he enthused with a hint of sarcasm, "But I accept your challenge, on behalf of my village, and if you do best me, you must take your place as Amlyn's second. It would not be wise to take sides in that matter! I will consider myself dismissed." And with that he turned and left the room. Turning on the threshhold he said loudly. "I am no longer a coddled child, I will not hold back on you. Till tomorrow my liege." And then he left.

Rowena went to find her mother. She hadn't heard that her father was home. She had left her Papa upset because it felt like he didn't want her. But it also drove home that she was making her mother feel the same way. She heard her brother come up behind her. She knew his halting step now. "I want Mama." She said quietly and held out her hands.

He picked her up. "Then that is where we will be going, Little Princess." He said softly.

Isa was alone in her room, Iorwerth had gone to meet other people. She stared straight sad, tired and depressed.

When Hawk sat her down in front of her mother. Rowena reached out till she found her and her little hands felt her face. Tears fell from her blank eyes as she felt her mother's sadness etched in her face. "I am sorry." She crawled into Isa's arms and began to cry.

Isa just held her, tears flowing from her own eyes. "It is all right, darling. Mommy loves you very much. It is alright that you do not remember, it will come back to you. sweety." She kissed the top off her daughter's head.

"I am sorry I am not strong like Bronwen." Rowena sobbed. She had tried to be grown up and it just made everyone more unhappy.

"You are much stronger than your sister. You have always been. butyou are a little girl, you are entitled to behaving like a child. Please do not grow up so fast, I miss the way you and I were together." Isa said sobbing to. "I love you so very much, my dear little one. ""

"I am more grown up then everyone believes?" Rowena sniffed as she tried to push the tears off her face. "People think because I can't see that I can't think or hear?"

"I never thought that, sweetheart. I hope I have not treated you badly? I have only tried to make you feel better. please tell me what I have done wrong."

"I was .. you haven't done anything wrong?" Rowena admitted. "I .. just wanted to be brave."

"You don't always have to be brave, darling." Her mother said.

Hawk was watching them, it was not going well, they were still not really connecting. But he did not know what to say, usually his mother was so a good at this kind of thing. He stood in a corner,contemplating if he should leave or not.

"Papa said to be brave?" Rowena said with confusion? "And so did Father?"

"That is men talking!" Her mother said. "That is their answer to everything." In his corner Hawk burst out laughing.

Rowena ignored her brother. "I am going to be a Queen someday. Queens have to be brave."

"Of course they have to be, but they are allowed to show feelings as well, and be a little scared. Especially when they are still small, and have a mother to comfort them. Because that is what mothers are for you know." Isa said.

Hawk came forward. "Mother is right, you know. Even I go to her for comfort, and I am the king."

"I am sorry." Rowena didn't know what else to say. She hadn't felt the need of comfort? But, she did not say so.

Her mother felt that her regret was not real, so she sighed. "I know it is hard for you, little one. don't do something that you do not want. If you do not want to be with me, I will try to understand. If you feel better with... Your papa, I prefer you to be with him." The little girl could not see the tears that fell from her mother's eyes.

"Papa doesn't want me." Rowena whispered. Tears filled her eyes. "He said I should be with you."

"your papa is a very kind man, and I will thank him, but I want my little girl to be happy and you are not happy with me." She turned to her son, "explain that to him will you?"

Hawk nodded, "I will mother."

"I never said I wasn't happy with you?" Rowena clung to Isa tighter. It felt as if both were now pushing her away. Rowena was suddenly terrified that no one wanted her.

Isa hugged her daughter. "I love you, little one. If you want to be here, nothing makes me happier. I want to hold you, hug you, to be with you. But I want the best for you, I want you to be were you want to be. do you understand that?"

Rowena began to cry again. "I don't want to leave? Mariane said they were going to hang Papa?" Her tears flowed in earnest.

Hawk came closer. "That is my decision, little one. I am not sure what I am going to do with him, but I promise you that he will not die." Her brother said softly. "Now why don't you stay with your mother tonight."

Bronwen found her father in his office. "You wished to see me?" She asked politely. She was much more serious in demeanor then when he left. It was clear that Bronwen was indeed growing up.

"Yes, I did." He mentioned for her to sit down. "But first, how have you been the past few weeks." Her father smiled. "You look at little down, is everything right?"

"War is not pleasant even unto those who wait at home, father." She said firmly. "I have friends who lost fathers and brothers."

He had not expected such a reaction from her, his daughter had never cared for things like that much before, maybe she was growing up. "You are right, Princess. You are becoming a woman, my daughter. Tell me, have you given any thought to marrying yet." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"It is all that girls my age speak of, father." She said with a soft grin. She forced herself to remain calm and focused.

"And my daughter, is there any particular man you're interested in?" Her father asked casually.

"There are one or two that have caught my eye." She said. "The Earl of Sanglet is exceedingly handsome and gallant." She couldn't help but add. "Dame Deirdre's new squire is quite charming and attentive as well."

"Ah yes, I believe your brother is doing his best for that young man, my girl, the earl has asked for your hand, I told him it would be your decision and you are obviously not madly in love with him, so you just take your time and I will handle him."

"I will admit that pleases me greatly." Bronwen forced herself to smile. "The Earl would make a handsome and fine husband. His estates rival our own?" Her demeanor remained calm and assured.

"I think so." Her father was a little disappointed. "So that is still the thing that interests you, Princess." He said.

"Uncle Wyn always said it was just as easy to love a man with money as a man without." She teased lightly.

"That is true, if you love him. And I am not sure that You love him. Take your time, there is no rush. I will tell the earl that he will have to wait." He said with determination.

Bronwen curtsied. 'Yes, Father." She withdrew. She knew she should have declared her love to make sure that Sanglet was appeased, but she did not have it in her to do so.

A gentle tapping on Bronwen's door startled her. The voice at the door wasn't exactly who she was expecting - or fearing - however. "Lady Bronwen?" aa female voice called tentatively. "May I speak with you a moment?"

Bronwen nodded to her maid who opened the door. Bronwen was surprised to see the lady captain. "Can I help you?"

"If you have a minute, my lady," she began consideringly, "I have a question regarding your bodyguard, Seth. He has recently become my squire and I was wondering if you would give me your opinion on him and his character." Blunt was best, she supposed.

Bronwen flushed red. "I... I suppose. He is loyal, trustworthy and honest. He fights for what he believes in and does so with honor. He is very passionate." Bronwen realized that sounded badly and quickly added, "when he believes in something."

"I see," she said, inwardly amused by the way the princess squirmed under her questions. She bit her lip thoughtfully. "But if I am going to be teaching him, then I need to know his failings as well. Bronwen, what true insight can you tell me about him; you could very well have said that about any knight."

"Failings? I guess he has never really let me see them? He does have a temper and tends to storm off when angered? I am sorry, I really don't know him well enough to say? Few people let royalty see their failings?" She said with confusion.

Deirdre frowned. "I thought you two had more than just a princess-bodyguard relationship," she began, then revised her statement as the girl started. "Aren't you friends?" she added quickly.

"We were becoming friends when he left for Nethbo. We haven't spoken much since his return. I am seeing being courted by a Lord he does not approve of and it is not his business." Bronwen said haughtily trying to cover her emotions.

"Do you not trust his judgment in people?" she asked gently.

"Aye, I do. He is very knowing. But I think in this matter, his wisdom is clouded." Bronwen got up and paced. "He thought to make a princess a common wife and it can not be."

It took a long moment for the meaning of Bronwen's words to sink in. Deirdre had never really placed herself in the midst of the castle politics; she had endeavored simply to do her duty to the utmost. But now, as the implications began to spring forth in her mind, a darkness clouded her features.

"Lady Bronwen, I must ask you this. Do you find it possible that Seth is only seeking to become a knight to be a better candidate for your hand?" Her words were slightly strained, yet devoid of emotion.

"I don't know his motives, but I for one, could not rule that out for you." Bronwen said. "But I do not think this is the case anymore." Her tone was one of total dejection.

Now Deirdre was truly surprised; her tone softened a little as she realized how hurt the princess' voice sounded. "Why is that, lady? What has happened?"

"I told him I was accepting the Earl of Sanglet's suit." Brownen said walking to the window. For a young girl to have accepted a suitor, she did not sound very happy.

Even as she could clearly see the sadness etched in her features, Deirdre hesitated. This was no business of hers. She barely knew the princess, and her position was to keep her safe, not happy. Yet...

"You must be very... excited," she said slowly, moving a little further into the room. "You certainly look it," she added, the doubt clear in her tone.

Bronwen looked up startled. "OH, I am sorry. I am most upset at Seth and I's last parting. I am afraid it has colored my responses."

"I don't understand," the captain replied, shaking her head. "I understood you were pleased with his suit. Why did you so quickly accept the Earl's?"

"The Earl helped me to see that Seth could not provide a life to my liking." Bronwen answered haughtily. She hated saying it. She knew it was pompous and arrogant. However, she did not know this woman or whom she held in confidence and so was afraid to confide in her personally.

Deirdre recoiled as if slapped. Her eyes hardened suddenly into chips of ice, and all the warmth that she had been feeling drained from her face. A daughter of Lord Iorwerth, to behave like that... she could feel her heart hardening against the girl. "I see. I apologize for wasting your and my time, princess." She turned to go. "You and the Earl deserve each other."

Bronwen flinched. "I will be sure to tell him you think so." Bronwen turned away, waiting for the slam of the door. If everyone thought her grasping and greedy, at least then the Earl would leave Seth alone. She totally believed Jon Sanglet when he had said her confession would still result in the death of the man who had slowly taken hold of her heart.

Deirdre stormed down the hall, her face coloring in fury. Only experience saved many of the servants from her biting tongue; they had all become acquainted with the captain's terrors, whether personally or by word of mouth.

What she had hoped would be an informative meeting had turned into a disaster. Not only had she found that the kindest couple she had ever met had a daughter who was only concerned with money, but it was possible that Seth's sole motive to become a knight was due to this undeserving lady. Her impression of the knight-to-be fell dramatically as her face and heart hardened. She would NOT be caught in the midst of court intrigue such as this. If necessary, she would simply dismiss Seth as her squire.