Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Chapter Four

A rush of adrenaline flowed through Arnan’s veins; his mind quickly assessing the situation with deadly precision. It only took a few testing movements of his neck to realize that the weapon was no small trinket, and whoever held it was pressing the blade point slowly into his neck with calm and determined rage. Arnan wasn’t sure how long he could wait to make a move without risking his own demise. A tree creaked, and a shadow tilted. It was all that he needed. Arnan turned just enough to swipe his attackers feet off the floor and tackle them to the ground. There was swirl of maroon and he found himself staring into cold blue eyes. Numb shock filled his mind as he realized his opponent was the woman from the streets of Cree. It was impossible, and yet there she was pinned helplessly to the rotting floor. He tried to qualm the rising terror in his mind, endless questions rippled through his brain. Who was she? Arnan flinched as the woman spit into his eye. It was already too late when he realized his mistake. Only a moment passed before the tables were turned once more and Arnan found his throat threatened by her sword point. He did not like what he saw in her eyes, there was a rage so cold and deadly that he was uncertain he’d ever come across any like it. She was young, younger then he had first guessed, and bitterly determined to kill him.

“Death is too good for you, jackal.” The words were spoken with a deadly precision, and Arnan absently noted that her voice would have had a soft, lilting quality to it had it not been so infused with venom. He knew better then to speak, she was already pressing the blade harshly against his throat and he could feel the first trickle of blood run from the sword. Anytime now, Deus, anytime. The thought surprised him. Arnan wasn’t one to place his hope in a distant, hateful, being. He slowly studied his opponent’s eyes in a hope to find some sign of weakness, but all he saw was concentrated hatred. Why? It was a question even more perplexing then how she had tracked him. He stared for a few more moments before deliberately blinking his eyes. As his eyelids closed a terrible image rose before his mind’s eye and a sickening horror filled him. He knew her.

“Meridel?” His question was tentative. A flicker of hate ran through her eyes at his recognition. Methodically she began to bind his hands and feet with a single hand, while keeping the sword to his throat.

He had only seen her once, once she had unsuspectingly locked eyes with him like she would have any other common stranger. Arnan could clearly picture the day; it had been cold, cold and grey.

The crowd was clothed in black and deep blues. Arnan had never before seen a funeral procession and was almost afraid to move through the heavy cloud of sorrow that surrounded him. There was a soft hum coming from the crowd as they began to sing the funeral dirge for their Queen. It almost seemed like a dream, the carriages carrying the royal family moved in slow procession. Arnan lowered his head as the Queen’s byre went by, he couldn’t bear to look. There were many mourners following the procession but his eyes were riveted on only one. She was young girl, dressed in flowing white. The girl seemed to be an angel descended into a cloud of thick darkness. That was when their eyes met, her eyes were filled with broken sorrow. Sorrow Arnan knew he had caused. She had only looked at him for a second, as if looking for some form of comfort and moving on when it was not found. The crowd began whispering and muttering at the sight of this little ray of light in their midst. He listened to the talk, hoping for some clue as to what would happen to the girl. All he ever heard was her name, Meridel. Arnan locked eyes with the Prime Minister. The man had gotten away with his act and smoothly directed the people’s rage toward Arnan. With a final glance toward Meridel, he ran.

“You killed her.” The words were a cold accusation. A true accusation. A wave of despair swept over his body. Perhaps this was justice; perhaps this was Deus finally moving his hand.

He deserved to die. He had been responsible. His life wasn’t worth anything anymore. No one wanted him. He had failed, failed in just about everything. He alone was responsible for what Duard had done to his family. He was responsible for Meridel’s pain; he was responsible for how Gical was using her. He was responsible for destroying Pepper’s life. He was the one who had murdered innocent souls, and stolen away so much happiness. Arnan let the weight of the past years overwhelm him. It wasn’t worth fighting anymore; it wasn’t worth living only for lies. He wouldn’t fight. He refused to. Meridel would slaughter him, and justly so. Pepper would be safe with Little Mother, and Arnan no longer had any family to live for. Even if he did they wouldn’t want him back. Slowly he met the girl’s eyes and choked out the words.

“I was responsible.”

Arnan closed his eyes and let his emotions wander as he waited for the blow. The only thing he did not want to think about was Wren. It seemed like an eternity and the cold blade still remained at his throat, steady and unmoving. He felt it pull away from his throat and heard it clatter against the floor. Arnan opened his eyes just in time to see the girl flee from the room. He didn’t know why but somehow he understood. He was the first person who had been honest with Meridel since her parent’s death. It had caught her off guard; it had caught him off guard. Arnan could not ignore the growing conviction in his mind; she had to know. He moved as quickly as he could, grabbed a stack of papers and sprinted out the door to catch her. The girl was halfway across the clearing when he made it out the door.

“Meridel, wait!” She stopped but did not turn. He could tell by her stance that there were tears streaming down her face. Arnan slowed his pace as he reached the place where she was standing. “You deserve to know what is really happening.” Meridel took the papers without meeting his eyes and began to walk away. Arnan turned around and began to head back to the house to gather his things.

“Thank you.” The words were so faint that he was almost uncertain that he had ever heard them.

“I am going to An Toan. If you travel with me I will protect you. You will be safe from Gical there.” Arnan shook his head and turned away. The words had been impulsive, yet somehow he knew he needed to say them.


_______________________


Arnan paced back and forth across the charred room, letting a torrent of thoughts flow through his mind. Meridel had grown, she was no longer a girl but a woman. Gical had trained her well in the evil trade they both were now slaves of. She had been a small and frail child when he first saw her, only having seen twelve summers. He knew she could now be no more then fourteen or fifteen years of age, yet she had been taught to carry herself as a grown woman. He had seen the transformation in his own siblings as they came of age, even still he could not seem to wrap his mind around this strange young woman to whom he owed so much. He grasped his head and tried to calm down the flow of thoughts. They were incessant, and they were devastating. He paused for a moment to pick up a piece of paper that had fallen to the floor in Meridel's flight. He recognized it immeaditely, and knew the words by heart. They had been haunting him ever since the proclamation had been made nearly three years before.


A Royal Proclamation of the Kingdom of Shanglal.

Grave circumstances have threatened our lands. A fortnight ago our Queen, most beloved of Shanglal, was kidnapped and violently murdered by the assassin, sometime known as Arnan Romany. In this very week the people again with stood a terrifying blow with the murder of their faithful king, again at the hand of Arnan Romany. The Royal Family, and the Officials of the court offer twenty pounds of gold to any man or woman who apprehends this man and returns him to Shanglal for execution. Deus’ grace to your lands, and may he speed whosoever may bring an end to the tyranny of this man.

Prime Minister Gical


Disgust and guilt flowed through Arnan’s veins. He smirked at the crude drawing contained in the picture. The evil looking likeness portrayed barely even resembled him. Arnan spit and threw the paper to the ground, the pain of was still raw… a fact which greatly surprised him.

Arnan wasn’t even sure why he was waiting for her. It was an inconceivable notion. No girl with her senses would choose to place herself under the protection of the very man who was responsible for her mother’s death. Princess. He knew what she was, but he didn’t want to think about the implications. Most of all Arnan did not want to think about what Gical had done to her. It was a choice between two evils. A man responsible for her parents deaths, or a man who sought to kill her as soon as her could. Arnan let out a curse. Why was he waiting? It was likely she would simply come back to finish the job she began. Because he knew he was responsible. Responsible. It was a strange word to comprehend. Arnan had spent his life avoiding being responsible for anyone but himself since the day Illara was born. His footsteps echoed with a furried thud back and forth across the unsteady beams of the home. Something inside him had snapped when he saw her flee. He would protect her, somehow. He had too.

“You do realize that if you let me travel under your protection, your life will be forfeit?” Meridel’s voice came from the door.

Arnan brought his deep green eyes to meet her blue ones as he answered, “Then my life is forfeit.”

8 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Bravo, Gabi! I love this turn of events. I love the new character and the complicated plot you're unfolding. Keep it coming!

6:36 AM  
Blogger The Romany Epistles said...

Sa-weet! Great chapter, Gabi! You're doing so well. This was Arnan's best so far, I think. Interesting new character...she's awesome....I do seem to have this love for characters were anger issues, lol. ;) Write more soon...you can't leave us hanging now! WRITE, girl, WRITE!

9:41 AM  
Blogger Kirk said...

I totally agree. WRITE MORE PLEASE!
It's exciting! And the last line is so dramatic.

6:04 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

"then my life is forfeit"
There's this ranger, perhaps you've heard of him; his name is Faramir... :-)

That is my all-time favorite line from LOTR. It was surprising to see it here in your story, but it was well placed.

9:26 AM  
Blogger The Romany Epistles said...

@ Michelle


*smiles* You know? I hadn't even made the connection. Just goes to show that good lines go around. ;-)

10:40 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Very interesting. :) I am eagerly moving on to the next chapter. :)

3:43 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Nice. Dark and intriguing.... and confusing. ;-) I'm looking forward to seeing how you answer all the questions you've planted in my head. :-)

11:28 AM  
Blogger Ashley said...

Bravo! Love the plot so far! It just keeps getting more and more interesting.

~Ashley

9:26 PM  

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