Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Mar 18, 2008 12:59:13 GMT -6
The Point of Impact
- The Duchess and the Traitor -
Temper flared, worry, concern, exhaustion, and injury. They were a powerful combination in war and a lethal combination in quiet calm. Needless to say, the healers who collected the Duchess would treat the woman beside her brother. To see him go down was for history to repeat itself with one exchanging places. In the streets, talk wouldn't quell of the scene that was situated in the market square just blocks away from the pleasant brandy drink; there were broken stalls, and now, a collection of bodies to pile into carts to take away. Wives with fast gossip tongues parlayed the information unknowingly to those without information, word spreading fast of the scenes standing out the most from the mind's eye. What stood out to her? The hands reaching to pull them down.. their own people. Eamonn's strength vanishing. The halls of the castle were as crazed as the streets, everyone in an uproar at the collapse of the general and the riot in the market. Odis found it easy, perhaps almost too easy, to enter the gates at the steps as everyone scrambled to make stronger defenses, leaving a weakness. In that weakness had come througha discontented man lost in the throngs, only to break through as a stranger in the halls. "You, what is your business..why are you here...stop him!" A maid dropped a tray of meat and potatoes, screaming as he took hold of her using her as a shield before tossing her out at a page. His trail was clear. In a delirium of liquor, accusations, and fueled by the clime of the times...he had come seeking retribution for his imprisoned cousin. "Ye killed him! He pointed to the bed..the clam our of steel meant they were closing in behind him, but not before he reached three slender, flat daggers meant specifically for throwing. Alcohol wasn't blighting his aim. She knew what was happening..instinct again pushing her body beyond limitations. The Court Physician was pulled towards her..pushed down atop of her husband the Lord General. The bulk of her back was pressed over them. A moment of silence..her breath filling it...before it stammered. Crying out..tears went down her face as two of the three aimed knives sunk into the musculature of the back.
He gurgled, blood coming out of his open mouth as he watched the contents of his body splay out on the stone. The body of the drunkard soon followed, twitching before imminent death came to cool the puddle of warm, crimson blood spreading outward so much the onlookers had to back away. In the dark abyss of nothing, he would join his brother to be meted out sentences if a man was given such a due for living bereft of morals...while one was left to wonder if by the chance of an instant he obtained the justice he sought.
On impact, she'd lurched forward on her sister-in-law so that when she'd slipped out of the body wedge, Beathag was hunched over her brother as if she were a bird with a wing to put over the young. In the shadow of her mountain he lay. The blades sunk one into the fleshiest portion of the left lumbar back, while the second was situated in the slight ravine of fibers just before the spine...had it gone any closer..the horror was enough as Aislin seemed to speak to transfixed dummies. They stared at the contents of her stomach, the unconscious General, and the Duchess over him. Blood blossoms grew to coat the linen underneath the bodice, pushing upward into the stiff cotton garment. Her feet tried to change position but gave way, sending her to kneel on them so it was her chest left to be half over his as Eamonn shifted with her weight as the golden haired woman refused to let her little brother go. If Aislin had been there still..she would have the arm that drifted aimless on the bed around her. the other was cast among the pillow, his hair. At last they moved into action..realizing to tarry might mean death if they did not know how deep her injuries were. Flesh and muscle though they were..the blood was much. She seemed to wrestle against this weakness..fearing the darkening of her eyes.
- The Duchess and the Traitor -
Temper flared, worry, concern, exhaustion, and injury. They were a powerful combination in war and a lethal combination in quiet calm. Needless to say, the healers who collected the Duchess would treat the woman beside her brother. To see him go down was for history to repeat itself with one exchanging places. In the streets, talk wouldn't quell of the scene that was situated in the market square just blocks away from the pleasant brandy drink; there were broken stalls, and now, a collection of bodies to pile into carts to take away. Wives with fast gossip tongues parlayed the information unknowingly to those without information, word spreading fast of the scenes standing out the most from the mind's eye. What stood out to her? The hands reaching to pull them down.. their own people. Eamonn's strength vanishing. The halls of the castle were as crazed as the streets, everyone in an uproar at the collapse of the general and the riot in the market. Odis found it easy, perhaps almost too easy, to enter the gates at the steps as everyone scrambled to make stronger defenses, leaving a weakness. In that weakness had come througha discontented man lost in the throngs, only to break through as a stranger in the halls. "You, what is your business..why are you here...stop him!" A maid dropped a tray of meat and potatoes, screaming as he took hold of her using her as a shield before tossing her out at a page. His trail was clear. In a delirium of liquor, accusations, and fueled by the clime of the times...he had come seeking retribution for his imprisoned cousin. "Ye killed him! He pointed to the bed..the clam our of steel meant they were closing in behind him, but not before he reached three slender, flat daggers meant specifically for throwing. Alcohol wasn't blighting his aim. She knew what was happening..instinct again pushing her body beyond limitations. The Court Physician was pulled towards her..pushed down atop of her husband the Lord General. The bulk of her back was pressed over them. A moment of silence..her breath filling it...before it stammered. Crying out..tears went down her face as two of the three aimed knives sunk into the musculature of the back.
-.-.-
He gurgled, blood coming out of his open mouth as he watched the contents of his body splay out on the stone. The body of the drunkard soon followed, twitching before imminent death came to cool the puddle of warm, crimson blood spreading outward so much the onlookers had to back away. In the dark abyss of nothing, he would join his brother to be meted out sentences if a man was given such a due for living bereft of morals...while one was left to wonder if by the chance of an instant he obtained the justice he sought.
-.-.-
On impact, she'd lurched forward on her sister-in-law so that when she'd slipped out of the body wedge, Beathag was hunched over her brother as if she were a bird with a wing to put over the young. In the shadow of her mountain he lay. The blades sunk one into the fleshiest portion of the left lumbar back, while the second was situated in the slight ravine of fibers just before the spine...had it gone any closer..the horror was enough as Aislin seemed to speak to transfixed dummies. They stared at the contents of her stomach, the unconscious General, and the Duchess over him. Blood blossoms grew to coat the linen underneath the bodice, pushing upward into the stiff cotton garment. Her feet tried to change position but gave way, sending her to kneel on them so it was her chest left to be half over his as Eamonn shifted with her weight as the golden haired woman refused to let her little brother go. If Aislin had been there still..she would have the arm that drifted aimless on the bed around her. the other was cast among the pillow, his hair. At last they moved into action..realizing to tarry might mean death if they did not know how deep her injuries were. Flesh and muscle though they were..the blood was much. She seemed to wrestle against this weakness..fearing the darkening of her eyes.