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THE KING IN THE NORTH 51
It smelt like spoilage. Like seven day old meat. also heave and dirt. The growls from the cell was low and guttural. He goggled at it. Yes, no longer his olive barked seed. Not his funny, garrulous child. No. Her eyes shone constitutionally. The blue balls like glass, too transparent, too unrecognizable. He gulped. " She feeds?" he asked. " As you earn" was the short reply. He turned to regard at the woman sprucely. She held his aspect with a force that equalled his. " How further does she need?" he asked, looking down from the woman" So much. And better if timely. She has not important of that left" the woman told him " She can be healed, stable, stronger and better. It all lays with you Sir" she said Why would you not want to be stronger, better and insurmountable? He pained to ask, but he formerly knew the reply. It was a game of cards, she may noway be healed. May noway recover, God knows how the vicious conglomerate did it? perhaps they were made and fed from day one. pe
THE KING IN THE NORTH 52
Selene watched the hole in the cotton shirt of the carriage motorist. She was yet to decide if weeping was proper or simply smiling at the asininity of the situation A man she slightly knew. Surely she was not so sure he was meritorious of her gashes. But she had one emotion veritably complete, fear. Fear because deep in she knew this was one big Field mine that would blow one after the last Until it blew her up in it's crazy mess too. Death had a reek, she was sure now. An horizonless sour smell that left her speechless every time she allowed of how important of it she would witnessed in her little moons at the palace of HoraceO'alistair The burial has been complete with ale passed round and aged women adorned in black blankets singing a requiem. She could hardly hold her gashes as she departed unfit to take food at similar occasions How could one drink over a death? What cause of merriment did it exactly bring? The Lord was on a mood she scarcely saw him in, not the
THE KING IN THE NORTH 53
The maids outside her marshland chamber were tattling. The low tale and snort mixed with skimp cachinnations was enough suggestion. Selene dropped her arm with the soft hair mixed with scented sauces. Selene had transferred all the chamber maids down and claimed on bathing alone. The look on the high retainers face was keen to a conniving mouse, and her mate her smile was as fake as her dyed black hair. She could hear their gossip reduce to many statements before both eventually quieted down. No doubt doing further tasking workshop than making her formerly made bed. The sun was warmer than she wanted, it's shafts percolated the room she sat. The water she was immersed warm and virgin. Selena closed her eyes for a while and only breathed the sauces she had washed with. Her hair now having the lush scent. Peace, just for a moment she felt peace. The drink from the merriment that had been till dusk from the former day still want round. She knew as much from the mild chatter
THE KING IN THE NORTH 54
.thump.thump. thump. Was it her heart or a dull pounding of some carpenter? She didn't really mind. Her eyes were fixed on the white cotton. The bulk in it. The child in it. Her family in it. The Lord was by her side, his woodsy smell filled her nostrils, but not as important as the smell of myrrh, of sauces and blood. Death indeed had a reek. The head legionnaire stood by the king. Another guard she had not looked at stood by her side. A front the throne was the croaker and Diana. The menial a blubbing mess, her nose watery. Her clothes long soaked with the salty levee that flowed down her eyes. Selene could hear her hiatus but her eyes remained in the bandaged bulk. Her responsibility. She had failed. Oh she wished she could cry. But also gashes sounded to have dried up at their source. " Woman. What happed?" Edgar said, his voice laced with pure wrath The menial fell on her knees. " I don'tknow.I don't understand" she prayed with a sob " The child was left in your care!"
THE KING IN THE NORTH 55
The slight warmth of the season was eventually gone. There came the cold wave. Vocally but promising of a harsh downtime. Men worked harder, logging trees and making domicile. The retainers reject and washed linens to last the cold wave. Fireplaces were moulded again on the hallways and corridors. The old bones brought to live with coal and timber. The candles were made bigger and meat dried with the last memorial of sun. The manor house was alive with conditioning. But his heart was a bit far from living. The child had yet to leave her chamber. Days and nights had passed and counted down to four and twenty. She noway came out. Every day he'd pipped and everyday he'd seen the same thing. A pale child on her bed. gaping into oblivion. He'd allowed her strong. Had seen a fire not fluently banged out. Oh had he been wrong? Was she too weak to be alive again? Her reason for fighting was gone. Everyone had a weakness. He'd read like as everything. A Napoleon, a bachelorette,
THE KING IN THE NORTH 56
A smile graced his lips. He'd woken before the sun did. Edgar discarded the full bottle of wine down. He could not indeed drink. He didn't want to sleep. He would have agonies. The slow valve came to the door and he moaned. The valve came for the seventh time before he managed " Enter" His hand boy came in with a charger of food. He could smell flour and his stomach churned " My lord" he bowed " Draw my bath" he said and he boy laid the charger on the table by the window, walking into his marshland room He could hear him filling the large pot with barrels of water. He went to check the charger and could only agree with an callow cucumber. Drinking his water, Edgar walked in to meet the menial leaving the restroom. " Dismissed" Edgar said as he undressed and went into the pot which was sprinkled with lillac and scented oil painting. Washing down to his long hair, Edgar dried himself completely and picked out a cotton shirt and britches which he wore under his sapphire surc
THE KING IN THE NORTH 57
The pang in his arms was violent. His sides hurt as much as his head. The light streaming in made him squeeze his eyes short again. Sleep was welcome. " Close the hangouts" he grunted to no bone in particular " Close the damned windows!" He yelled out rolling on his face The silence responded to him again and he forced a lid open. No bone was in sight. The sun streaming in was too important for a morning. How long had he slept? Groaning, Edgar cradled his gauzed hands and stood. His left hurt more than the right. No doubt where he'd planted the chopstick. asininity At the point it had felt the wisest thing to do. But now, with a wounded arm and a terrible headache he questioned his conduct. But he didn't relatively lament them The queen wasn't leaving. And she was alive Edgar padded to the window, chancing that the sun was not as annoying presently. Two servers laid by his table. It was noon formerly Surveying his breakfast with absolute apathy, Edgar opened the serv
THE KING IN THE NORTH 58
The veritably space hummed with magic. Raw, dark and ancient power. The enchantress sang the ancient morning song. The hands humming to her tune. " Wake the dust Wake the Earth Wake the dead Wake the laid. Rise for the sky calls The sun has mourned your demise Rise oh rise! Rise!! Rise!!!" The grave shook, the Earth groaning and pulsing. also peace. The youthful demoiselle stepped forth. The pest snappily claiming her dying branches. It could only wail and hyperventilate a cry as the chains tossed her violently to the grave. also the enchantress beach again. Each tone advanced than the last. Till the ground broke and the old grave jabbered. Grave monuments breaking violently. The hooded men opened the casket. There laid the mummified body of a beauty in life. It's caramel hair still radiant. The enchantress sang as she took the onyx pendant on it's gray chain and hung on the dying demoiselle. The pest desisted , her skin smooth as a child. Her eyes turning a b