The hillside beyond the castle walls were aglow in the last fiery glow of sunlight, the coming darkness heralded by the cackling of the crows, a black cloud in the near distance where the battle had been fought. Cassandra stood, peering through the slender window slit in the stone wall there, she was tall, taller than most, a long mane of fiery red hair ran down her back; over her long gown of scarlet feathers, catching the golden light magnificently.
She was alone, the others would be gathering in the court, waiting for the next slither of news to be brought forth, the battle was over, there was no winning side. They'd had the most men on their side, there should have been no question to the outcome, against the traitors who had sided with the invaders, the brutes who had taken most of the Eastern shores, this was to be the final battle, of which peace would be restored and justice given, but Cassandra had known the outcome before the battle was even spoken of. She and her brother also.
The Shadows, an entity that thrives in darkness, would be rejoicing in their unspoken promise of power. It was their victory.
A low rumble below disturbed her from her thoughts as four black horses came into view, their long manes were matted, and Cassandra could see the splattered patterns of blood over the bent and broken armor of their riders. They rode at a terrible speed up the drive toward the castle. Cassandra retreated into the tower and flew down the narrow spiral staircase into the chamber below and down another much longer staircase into the reception hall where there came the deafening crash of wood and iron. In the din there was loud thud and Cassandra arrived just in time to see the four horsemen riding, into view over the drawbridge, and through the iron gate, coming to a halt before the crowd of servants and ladies that had gathered there.
From this angle they appeared less intimidating, the riders were weary and battered, none wore the look of triumph of being alive, Slowly and clumsily they began to dismount, one by one, waving the servants that rushed forward to help them, away. The last warrior fell to the ground with a clatter, his leg bleeding profusely, staining the flagstone floor, he groaned and hauled himself to stand on one leg, then, half slumped against his destrier, waving away a woman servant who had rushed forward.
'What news do you bring to the court, brave knights?' Cassandra asked them, quickly realising that her brother was nowhere to be seen in the crowd, Not by birth or marriage but by the act pf ancient stone she had was the only person of importance in the room. She held her head high as she stepped forward.
'The King... is dead.' the knight before her announced, spitting blood from his mouth. I saw him fall, slew by the traitor, but alas there is... .some justice, for in the same blow... he was slain also.'
Cassandra bit her lip, as the servants around her gasped, a woman screamed and a man yelled something in anger. This was how she had known the moment to be, she must act accordingly. 'How many men are to return?'
'Another fifty. The king's body will be brought forth before dark'.
'Very well, you may rest and allow the physicians to take care of your wounds, there is much work to be done,' she made to leave the room from a side door opposite, but was stopped by a servant, scrolls spilling from his thin arms, 'Alone, I must deal with this alone', she added to him.
The servant gave her a subtle bow as she hurried off up the staircase, once out of view she held her arm out before her and felt the presence of her brother on the next floor above, She quickened her pace, ignoring the fire raging in her heart, They had to act quickly, the Shadows would be plotting their next move.
Finding the chamber room of his study with ease, she closed the door as quietly as the wood and iron bolt upon it would allow. The room was dark and tightly packed with wooden chairs, racks full of scrolls, shelves, brimming with glass pots containing various sweetly smelling poultices. In the darkened corner, lit only by a low candle she saw her brother, heavily robed in blue cloth, a jeweled garnet twinkled from his long auburn beard as he bent over a piece of parchment at a cluttered writing desk. He did not look up as he spoke.
'Good evening, my dear sister.'
'The king is dead, the Shadows have won, Our centuries worth of work is about to be undone, it is not a "good evening" this day!'
'That is true, but we both knew this was coming, For years now, we have worked toward this.' Again he did not take his eyes from the parchment.
'Have you not felt the power the Shadows now have? The fire was growing in her heart. 'Many innocents will fall from this, you know that! There is work to be done, we must lessen the impact of the Shadows fury. Or we are all dammed!'
'Indeed,' he straightened his back and rolled the parchment, 'that has been our purpose since we became what we are, my wife is preparing the next stage. Morwenna has moved her people to the northerly outpost and Llewellyn is taking the word abroad, like we discussed.' He took the candle and let it drip onto the scroll. 'Robert, also has, this day left for France. 'He stamped the letter and finally turned to slowly look at her. 'He told me to send you his best wishes.' Whether it was the candlelight or whether it was something else, but Merryn had a twinkle in his sparkling blue eyes.
'I wish him well.' There was a short pause as her fire returned, 'This world is dividing; the Shadows doing. The old world has closed its gates to await the new age, There will soon be another and neither of us know what that will birth.'
'We, as Ignae, gods chosen messengers, are responsible for the protection of good, we will embrace the change; there is good to come yet.'
She knew this already, they had shared the same vision together and understood more than the could ever say about it, which was perhaps well, for ad her anger had been about to abate it was adgitated once more. In a flash, she threw the door open beside her, a pair of frightened eyes met hers, a look she met with disgust, sending away the small boy who had been crouching by the keyhole in an instant.
Cassandra glared after the boy as he disappeared down the staircase before slamming the door shut once more, her chest heaving, taking deep breaths to calm herself.
'He heard most of our words'. Merryn said a moment later.
Their eyes met. It occurred to her then just how alone she really was now, with the others away, Robert in France, it was just she and Merryn left. His wife, she knew, would begin the next stage many miles away, they would see little of her until her work was complete, that could take years.
'You knew he was there?' She already knew his answer.
'Anger clouds the senses and mind. Of course I knew he was there and I know who placed his ear to that door also'.
Cassandra wanted to argue back, but he was right, they had both been through enough to understand that well enough. She must control her anger or risk repeating the same mistake she had made years ago, and that had cost them both dear.
"Who is it?'
'Rest assured my sister, time will reveal all'.
Note:
- This scene is based many years before the beginning of book one, "A Retreating Tide" at the time when the Eárie was being created. What happens here and after, affects the events of Alicia and Nathan in the future.
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