Idle Hands...[open]

[seraphim]

Phim had left the "pirate's" room once she could walk without vomiting from pain. It was only a day, but she did not feel better. Even with that, she was setting herself to work with the crew, mopping, and repairing, scrubbing, moving things. Fafnir and Jack'o kept their distance, so did much the crew. She did not look like one to be approached as of late, though they did keep an eye on her. With the Holy Days passed, she was uncomfortably aware she failed to remember them, thus her head was strictly covered, wrapped tightly with the yard of black fabric, twisted at the nape of her neck. Her modest clothing were dark as well, a homespun overdress that laces up along her slender sides, the white undershirt's sleeves were the billowy type, the laces in the neckline drawn up in a proper fashion. Thin soled leather boots carried her quietly from one task to the other, not looking as if she really belonged on the docks, save for the way she did not tumble every time the ship lurched.

Another few days passed and her routine was set. The same dark apparel, her covered head bowed over the task at hand - today she was scrubbing the chests out. She worked on the ship's first, then her own trunks, the piles of now gleaming weapons, house wares, pieces of armor, even some horse shoes. They were all piled neatly, next to that were her tools, all of which were cleaned as well, now the dirty trunks were attacked with vigor. No use cleaning her things if the containers were filthy. Around noon she'd sit back on her heels, kneeling on the docks. Her arm raised as her head did, wiping sweat from her forehead, looking up at the heavens where her gaze traveled more often then not. Her black eye was a pale purple, yellow, and green now as the bronzed flesh healed, the bruised cheek was almost normal again. Her bottom lip, though full on its own, was nearly to its normal size, the swelling down, though the cut still visible.

A breath was let out as her hands rested against her thighs, her covered head would roll from one side to the other, loosening her neck before picking up the rag from the little wooden bucket by her, squeezing it out before she would set to work once more. Although, though all the gleaming metal, there still laid a gory sword, thin and British made, muddy and bloody.

[Lady Liliana Campbell]

Strolling along the docks at such an hour without any purpose, alone, seemed foolish. Yet Liliana had needed a moment to herself. Everything in her life seemed to have been chaotic lately. Since coming to this place she had found...happiness, peace, love. The people here that she had met had stolen a place in her heart. One especially...

Pausing at the end of the dock, pulling the white shawl tighter about her upper body, Liliana stared solemnly into the water. All it had taken to find such joy, to banish the memories, had been to be pulled out of the water here. Now, it seemed, the one that had watched over her was intent on tormenting her again...

Though Kendrew was alive, he had not returned. Her mind had been eased upon hearing that the husband only recently gained, the love only found such a short time ago, had not been ripped from her. Except that now she had not a single idea where he was or what he was doing. Was he still in danger yet? Would he return soon?

One copperskinned hand, trembling, lifted to absentmindedly tug at the ebony braid that hung over her shoulder.

"Kendrew...please...come home..." Soft words, whispered on the wind, as she stood there.

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

Kendrew: The autumn tide was growing colder by the hour, for the season became later with winter close at hand. Early the spring that year, late the fall. What would winter prove? It made fall in the hearts of the hopeless many weeks ago while the sea did war with the turn of the seasons. "Cast the lines n' net again! We need fish to haul in to pay for our livlihoods lads. AGAIN!" Off the coast, the passerby could hear the call of the fishing boats giving out commands to be heard as no better than prayers. Thick, unrelenting fog rolled in with a sulfuric yellow color to lap at the dorsal fins of tempting catch before the lot was devoured within. One dingy was passed through this mists, the commandments. In it were two men - one elder, one younger. The elder barked a harsh cough as the thick moisture invaded his lungs; to0 thick to breathe, too hard to ingest. Phlegm forced its way out and into the sea. What woke him? The breeze, the body twitching of its own accord? Or the moans of his young comerade. "Boy..Yodric..Yod.." His sight burned, the bid at consciousness was fading quickly.."How fare ye. Yodric!" A hard wave made the fellow on the sea watch bellow out the tide was changing. It carried the two men - one young, one elder, to the jagged rocks near the white shore line. The dingy was slammed into the unyielding face of Skye - strong, enduring.So the two men - one a native son, another a man who swore fealty to it, became lost in a tangle of wreckage. Blood colored the water near them, the yellow fog kept them from sight...for now. (d)

Liliana: On the docks stood Liliana, lost in thought. It was hard not to be when staring at the water below. This very water had almost taken her life and yet in the same instance given it back. Here she had been reborn, in a sense. A soft sigh passed her lips, as she thought of Kendrew and wondered where he was again. She wished he were here, standing by her, so she could share her thoughts with him. Spend her days with him. Chocolate eyes looked out at the water, atthe waves, as if in search of him. As if she could find him, no matter where he was, and see him. "Kendrew, please come home. I miss you..." (d)

Kendrew: The dreams that rocked him to a black sleep on the unending sea were the tones of her voice in the crevices of his mind. Soundless were the images of violence- the fire through Dumfrieshire, the women and children fleieng the hamlet. The grains, waving. He heard neither screams nor the clash of steel but the melody of her voice. "Ever mine...ever thine...ever ours.." He smiled, unknown to him at what his memory conjured. A quiet man was an astute man so he knew her hands touched his face, her voice filled his soul and he made love to her in the time the fever raged high in him. Now he cried out and heard for the first time the distinct sounds of his suffering. His arm, pinned between rocks. His legs, flailing to keep him afloat as the waves smashed him until he bruised more than he was already. Yodric's body drifted without care, his face passing him. "YODRIC!" The young man of sixteen years was his squire; seasoned for battles..but not for this sort of thing. "Do you hear that?" the watchman said to his fellow, pointing toward the directions of the yellow fog, "Hold a line there, over it..just in case. Can't be too careful."He wasn't willing to admit that this was the boy's end...nor did he know that it was on the shores of home, just beyond the first views of the cliff face that he'd breathed his last. If it was Yodric's end, what of his own? He struggled until he was free, his arms moving..hard and stiff. His legs pulled up as he clutched in the wreckage his spears..his signs. Beaten Campbell tartan...a piece of a Lamont sign. His adventures had been many in the South, his aim but one: to go home. Through the yellow fog one banner rose higher than the other....the Griffin (d

Liliana: Words drifted through her mind, thoughts of the wedding not long past, as gaze moved to the ring upon her finger. Remembering his reaction to the one she had given him made a smile curve her lips, sad and lonely it was, as his voicedrifted through her mind. Aye lass, I'll kiss ye. I'll drink ye in. And he had. He'd made love to her, claimed her, as he had the first time. Husband and wife. Now...she was here and he was not. (d)


-- To be continued --

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

Kendrew "Yodric, YODRIC lad if you are dead I'll beat you..back.." He sputtered, coughing on bile, phelgm, and the wet dank in the thick fog. His chest spuddered as he shook his head violently. Crawling on hands and knees He went over to to the pool of water where the body of the young man was face up, staring at where heaven was. "Boy..b.." He coughed again, wincing as he gripped the place on his side where a badly wrapped wound aggrivated him from the sting of salt water beatings. Whipping high in the wind, the Griffin pierced the thickness of the fog so well the watchmen began to study it, though none of yet advanced. It was some journey from the docks, over the shores and down to the places where the rocks jetted out on the shore. Kendrew didn't know that the tide had carried them home, nor did he know in his fever that the fire keeping him alive was doing war with smothering out in the cold. He began to pull under Yodric's arms, stumbling over his boots. Ripped tunic was pulled open by the wind, his skin exposed to the elements but what did it matter. He had spent so many days adrift...that another minute did little . (d)

Lucius: Having just returned from the cruel hands of the English, Lucius found himself glad of some distance from a stifling inn. While the woman had been nothing but kind to him, the confinds of the room were driving his mind mad. For long hours trapped in the top of a tower did tend to leave some ill will upon the mind and even heart...especially to a young man who never knew such a thing or experience battle before. Why, the rebellion was enough to frighten him away from war, but then, Lucius convinced himself, that was not a knightly thing to do. No, even in the face of danger's aftermath, you were courageous. How, Lucius was still learning, for he could not seem to get the visage of those lifeless faces...or Sir Liam's stilled and bloodied frame from his mind. Fresh air..he needed it. Something. He did not know how to face his father just yet, and before he would confront a man who seemed to have nerves of steel, he wanted to find his horse, the beast that carried him through the battle. It took some time and socialization before he found his horse, brought back by one of the survivors of the battle. Lucius was ever grateful for the kindness, and with what little fortune he had, hard earned, he parted with it in order to gain back his black stallion. Even after Roac's skilled craft of stitching the long wound down his upper arm, it ached terribly. The woman at the inn offered to make him a sling, but Lucius respectfully declined the offer...it ached even when still. His tunic had been washed, thankfully, and rid of the blood and dirt..however faint stains remained around the long tear in the sleeve where the cut had been made. The sand was a different terrain to walk upon, and while it was a challenge, Lucius leaned more into the side of the black horse. Lucius sighed, his good arm leaning against the powerful shoulder while his hand held the reins loosely. ``...I don't want to go home yet...Valerius...I..I don't know how to tell father what happened...not yet...would he think me weak?...undeserving of being a squire?...I could not help my lord..and I know father would say that there was nothing more I could do...why do I still feel this wrenching ache in my heart?..`` He said aloud to his steed, who only snorted and walked onward down the shore. Dark eyes had been cast downward as he walked along slowly.

Kendrew: The kindness of others, the skill of a fine hand, and the musings of a solider would be a cycle the young man would travel many times in his life if God were gracious to let him live beyond the first or second battle. What was it that made a solider's luck? God or man-made fortunes in the direction of excellence leaning toward the improbable avenues. Fame, glory. Honor and fealty. What stories were told of men like these with only the wounds sustainedas cautionary fables for the envious who vyed for a chance to strike a sword at the enemy. Who told the young of a squire's first taste of fear or the throws of death a man like Kendrew fought when he could not even know he was on the shores of his home? He pulled himself up once more to call for help with only sputtering words coming forth. He tried again, this time successful, "AID, I NEED AID!" Violent coughing pulled him back on himself, doubling over until he stuck his spear in the ground. The Griffin banner lurched forward until on the edge of the fog it careened hard into a dune. Holding forward to it, he found he could go no where but down. His lungs would not take in the wet moisture on the air, his body only wanted to expell its illness. The wound on his side seered in pain and his head spun. (d)

Lucius: The first battle or the sword's first taste in blood was never told or sung of in the songs of old, or the lore that was passed down not only by word of mouth, but by inked and stained print. Did all soldiers and knights think of such thoughts in shock and appall? Lucius had no knowing, for the man he would have asked was dead in a tower, and all that he had left of the man was the folded fabric with the coat of arms imprinted. The leather brigandine held the concealed the only piece of the noble knight he could bring back against his breast. He sighed again, and lifted the injured arm and his large hand patted the the beast's jaw. The sound of a man's cry for aid touched his ears, and for a moment, Lucius paused, arching a brow before glancing to his horse. Pulling the reins over the horse's head and making a longer lead, Lucius sent his feet into motion, dashing down the shoreline, booted feet digging into the sand, and the shifting grains nearly making him fall a few times in his haste. Valerius trotted behind Lucius, keeping pace easily as the two moved through the thick fog of the shores only to see on the sand and amongst the boulders and rocks, a banner in the sand, and then a little further, the man! ``Sir! You're aid is here! I have a horse to carry you! Are you well? Can you walk?`` He ask, narrowing his eyes a bit in effort to see through the fog and to the man calling for aid

Kendrew: "My squire..he is dead..n' I am...put taegether barely enough." He called out with a rugged, haggard tone as the fog made it hard to distern the voice offering him assistnace. Slowly, he noted the form coming to bare. A man, young by the tone of it. He shook his head hard, shook as the fever made him chill though is flesh burned. "Where..is this place? The battle..n' Dumfries...it..went on sae long. Then on..to Larkan..for me..and the squire." He tried to tell his tale as he coughed again. The force was so great it pushed him through a patch of clarity in the fog. All of his hair was strewn in his features. White, haggard ghost with gaunt, drawn in against weathered clothes that were once better than they were now. The banner fell over his hands and he struggled to keep it aloft. "I'm....Sir..Ken...Kendr...Kendrew!" (d)

Lucius It was strange how one word could trigger an onslaught of emotions...just one, to open Pandora's box and all the things that plagued a mind and haunted dreams were released. Dead, another, though this man's squire had been slain and not the knight..already Lucius could discern that at the phrasing of the man's words. As he dashed toward the sea, water splashed as long legs of both man and horse got as close as they could. Lucius frowned deeply and swallowed hard. Death! Never before had he been so close to it so soon and frequent. He was young, though by all accounts of physical and mental status a man, but he was a young man, and still learning and experiencing life. Finally, close enough, Lucius got a good look at the man, and saw the pallour features of the knight. Dark brows furrowed in concern and sympathy for him, and got as close as he could, before glancing to Valerius at his side. ``Stay here, my friend.`` He said, before dark eyes turned once more to the weary and wounded man. ``Take care, my Lord, you do not look well...though to be living is a good sight indeed. You stand upon the shores of Turas Lan, the land of the Dukeand Duchess Aberdeen..upon the isle of Skye...`` Lucius glanced to the banner, watching it whip in the breeze by the sea, but then tore his eyes away. ``My good Lord Sir Kendrew...let me help you..here, hold the reins and if you can walk toward the horse...I will help you so you do not fall...'tis very slippery..and you look weary..`` He offered, and handing the ends of the reins to the knight, he stepped aside and reached for Kendrew to help him move, though bit back a wince at the movement of his own injured arm.

Kendrew: "GAH!" He cried out in pain at last as the sea spray licked the last of the blood from his wound clean. Biting down on his lip, he refused to whimper like a lad who hadn't been weaned from his mother. "God bless you..bless you. Ye say..Turas.Lan..then..home." He could have run if it would have been allowed of him. "They must know..they..I 'ave word...." He took the reigns of the horse in his hands, coughing before letting his arm go over toward the lad who provided him aid. A picture to embue on a tapestry - the squire and the knight, another fallen, a banner whipping in the breeze. "Word..fr..from the coast..for m'lord....m'lady. How..how fares.." He groaned as his ankle nearly gave way beneath him. Consciousness wanted to make the world black, but he wouldn't let it. Home! "The Duchess...the Duke...mah wife.....mah...wife." (d)

Lucius: At the man's guttural cry of pain, Lucius' frown grew and his heart went out to the man. How long had he been out here? Lucius knew all too well how cruel a wound could be, though on this man, he could not spot the wounds just yet.Hopefully, he could get the man to a surgeon or nurse to tend to him as he should be. At the mention of Turas Lan, the squire nodded to confirm the man's repetition of Lucius' answer to Kendrew's previous question. Once the knight had the reins in his hands, Lucius swallowed hard, his heart racing for reasons that he did not understand fully himself. ``And they will know, good Sir Kendrew...but first we must get you to aid...for dead men cannot speak in a language that the living understand..`` He replied. If Kendrew stumbled, Lucius was there to help him, catch him as best he could and help him to the black horse. Once Kendrew was clear of the rocks, the plum cloak was whipped from his shoulders and he draped it over Kendrew's, hopefully that would help with the shudders, no doubt from the chill. ``They are well, my Lord, as far as I know..I am...was a squire...but like you, I was at Dumfrieshire..and only recently returned to Turas Lan. Can you ride?`` He asked. Right now, he was concerned with the knight half alive, and would come back for the lifeless squire in the water. Brown eyes looked over Kendrew

Kendrew: "Then the way becomes shut n' the dead keep secrets..it..won't do." If he was on Death's doorstep, the angel of the final end would have to wrestle with all that Kendrew Lauran Campbell III was to take him from this plane. Without this squire come from the mists, his fate would be that of Yodric's: a body in the surf. Strange, injured men talking of the battle that had been on another shore. The cloak tamed a little of the trembling, enough for him to recover some faculties. His eyes were glassed over from the fever, but still his sight seemed keen. "You were..were there? Not long home, and the others of the forces, my men n' I...parted ways, and those of Lamont..did..ye see sh..ship...ships" he coughed hard, holding hard to the reigns, "with..with any sign o' them?" The odds were not much against them but the terrain leveled few advantages. Burning fields, scourged woods..they had been trapped. The sickening feeling of being one of a handful to survive loomed large over his head. His men were good men, sturdy and true. They were his friends...."Aye, I can ride as good as any half-sodden..m..man." (d)

Lucius: Indeed, Lucius had been there, and then from there, he had been moved to another town that the English were using as a base and thrust up in the tower. Valerius snorted, but stood stout and stroung as Kendrew pulled himself towardthe animal. ``Aye, my Lord, I was there..`` And what a sight it had been..for him. His first battle had been one of a mixture of battle and massacre. Lucius would never forget it, much to his displeasure. But Lucius tried to push itfrom his thoughts and focus on Kendrew now. Ships? The squire blinked, but slowly, shook his head. ``..Alas, I saw no ships...myself and my knight were taken captive by English, and I know nothing after the club to my head..``

Kendrew: "Ye look nay too old, your feet just tread on this path..aye?" Was he weathered, he asked? He looked green with youth's promise of virality and strength glistening in his eyes despite the jade of the battle still there. The very word, a mere mention of it...may God go easy on his mind. Still, he managed a smile if only for his savior's sake and the mild humor of it all. "Aye, n' then...tae be healed..if..if mah wife sees me this way she'll surely have m'arse as a token 'pon the mantle.. she is a strong beauty, mah Liliana. The Duchess' handmaiden." (d)

Lucius Did he really look that inexperienced? Well, Lucius should have expected such, for he was but a fledgling to war and battle. However, it was all part of the path to knighthood, and if he quit now, he would never become that which he so dreamed to be...a knight. ``..Aye, my Lord. I am a decade and seven years...soon to be eight years in a few months..`` He replied. Well, he couldn't lie. He was young, younger than the knight before him, who even in his paled and injured state, looked every part of a knight..like Sir Liam had. ``Then we shall not keep her waiting, Sir Kendrew of the Sea, perhaps kin of Lancelot, who was bore of the Lake, but you the sea.`` He mused softly, to not only comfort Kendrew, but to lift his spirits as well, and chase the gloom away. Such dark thoughts bore down on him, and the smallest glimmer of light was welcomed. Ushering Valerius to rise, Lucius walked beside the horse and lead him from the beach and into the city, glancing up to Kendrew and be sure he did not fall off.

Kendrew: True to form and word, Sir Kendrew of the Sea did not fall from the steed called Valerius, owned by a young man new to the craft of war. Seventeen, nearly eighteen. Oh did he remember that far agone? His wife, oddly, was not too far in age from this lad yet to him she was every bit the woman. Nineteen his Liliana was..nearing twenty. "Tis a fine age. Young n' fit ye be. Sir Kendrew of the Sea...wot it would be..tae live such..story. Knight o' the round table. A time when all o' this..blood n' war..was against the enemy o' all the isles..nay against Scottish ,English, or Irish..." He coughed again, and harder each time it was so. He fought a silent war with the illness...but at least he was home.. (d)

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

Kendrew"The city...she's ne'er looked so good to see. Lucius.." His voice wavered in and out; the broken gourd spilled contents into the street, and he sighed in apology. The lungs were in a fit of rebellion in this thick, heavy Autumn mists. Despite the cloak over his form he began to tremble again, but tried his best to keep it at bay. Home - his lord, his lady, his friends and battle brethren...his beloved bride. Everything was here and finally, he made it here! He couldn't be sick nor pass away now! The lad was quick; the Infirmary would be their destination just as he noticed the Knight beginnng to totter (d)

LilianaIn any land, amongst any people, there was one thing to be found common: To spread news. One did not have to have all the facts or to know if the information was true. This was how Liliana, returning to the castle, found out about the return of her beloved. A group of women, on their way about business, had paused to share talk. They chattered and 'oohed' and 'aahed' as if only they existed, while standing in the middle of the very pathway that would take the tired Lady-In-Waiting back to find a warm meal and a lonely bed. Approaching them, wishing to get them to move, Liliana stopped just an inch from touching the one on the shoulder as wordsmet her ears. "Ah be swearin' on me ol' da's grave! It be Sir Kendrew tha' I saw! Nearly dead he be! All tha' blood..." Heart pounding in her chest, joy turned swiftly to fear, Liliana forced herself not to shake the bloody woman as she continued,"Headin' to the healer's hall..." And off her feet flew, ignoring the chatting women. They could stand there all day if they wished it! [d]

Kendrew "Lord Campbell! Lord Campbell!" His sight to the familiar was as keen to be noted as the sun rising in the Eastern skye; his own was paled by comparison, torn, and by the time they made it up the hill to the infirmary the men rushed forward to catch him after he had dismounted. One step, another, and he all but collapsed to the ground mumbling constantly about his mother, his wife, and their safety. Of Lamonts, Campbells, and adventures no one knew of. Of stories that desperately needed to be told. "Sir! Sir! Quick, hoist 'em up! Prepare a room, call the people together..he's on fire!" He cried out as hands held his sides, rubbing raw the infected cut on his side. He yowled free the pain he had tried to restrain - "Make it stop! Jesus, please...deliver me!" (d)

Liliana Usually when those of Skye saw Liliana there was a sense of poise. She never ran about, never acted anything except mature, and carried herself as any lady would. Yet now her feet moved like the wind, people dodging out of the way in fear of being ran over, with skirts hoisted above knees. Blasted things! Braid had come loose, ebony hair flying behind her, as she headed for the hall. All she could hear was the woman's last words. Nearly dead he be! All tha' blood... Inside her head a silent prayer was being repeated, begging God not to take him from her, as she fought the tears stinging her chocolate eyes. [d]

Kendrew So close! Liliana was beyond the turn, a few people away - his hand reached out to cusp the air with imagining to be her face before the pain twisted his gut again! His noble facade diminished as tears poured from his eyes as the afflictions were moved, twisted. He coughed so hard that spatterings of blood were on the stones. One arm went across a back, followed by another. "Get'im up the stairs!" Feverish rants flowed from his lips as he gave command, "Send fer a messenger....please! I have to tell the message..mah wife. Where is she, is she safe?" "Be still" " LILIANA!" (d)

Liliana "KENDREW!" Careening around the bend, bowling over two men who grumbled about unlady-like women, she had heard his voice. It was not hard to hear him shout her name, hear his rantings, as she got closer. "Kendrew! I am here!" Liliana's chocolate eyes locked on the man they were struggling to move up the stairs and inside. They took in the crimson stain upon the stones, heart jumping into her throat, as she shoved to get closer to him. Those observing were blocking her path and tears streamed freely down her cheeks now,"LET ME THROUGH!" [d]

Kendrew"Where's my wife! Please? Liliana! Lily.." The ferocity he experienced coursed adrenaline so hard that the men doubled in number to take him inside. The fever was making him a delirious force of nature.."Get him inside before the fever consumes him! N' the infection o' the cuts n' scrapes is pussed. His lungs..gah! the blood!" Sputtering, frothing at the mouth, it dripped onto their boots. Many crowded around him as his body became like lead. A creature, trapped. Being prodded..the passerby said that the wars on the mainland drove many to their ends and Kendrew was no expecption, but what pity! Either madness or truth manifested his desire before his eyes. "LILIANA! LIL-" He coughed so hard his body doubled over on itself, and at long last he could fight them off no more (d)

Liliana "Plea-ase MOVE!" The cry, the sob that broke loose, made people move out of the way. If they did not move, then they were made to. Liliana could see him, could hear him, and every step that drew her closer found him further away. Finally when no moreshouts came from him, her heart froze in her chest. Stopping, staring in horror, Liliana stood at the bottom of the steps ,unable to move. Was he...? Forcing herself to move up them, to ignore the blood that had been left by him, she searched for a familiar face- anyone who could tell her something. [d]

Kendrew For a long time he was unmoving, curled over his own knees. For a long time, they watched aghast in horror - had the fever sped up his blood, made his heart race too fast that it burst? "Out of the way! Let the Lady Campbell over!" The head physic for the hour reached over to take the woman's hands. Up the stone steps, over the blood from his wound, the phlegm-filled content of the lungs over to where the man lay curled. "My lady.." he was set to offer his apologies, people around them muttering in low mourning, only to be shocked as his chest expanded for another breath, another round of coughing as phglem, stomach bile, blood, and salt water came up enough for him to speak anew.. "Please...a messenger....my..wife." (d)

LilianaTrembling hands were allowed to be taken by the man, fear showing in the wideness of chocolate eyes. The way the man began to speak increased it, made the tears come even more, for she'd heard that tone before. When told Adira had died. No, no, no...please God...you can't take him too...not Kendrew... Waiting, breath held, for the man to tell her that Kendrew had passed on, the condolences that would follow, she was nonetheless shocked to hear the coughing that came from him. To hear Kendrew's voice! Pulling her hand free of the Head physic's, not caring about soiling her gown, she moved to be nearer Kendrew. "I am here, Kendrew, my love. Liliana is here..." [d]

KendrewPrepare a room to rest the body..someone to wash it clean..and make it ready to be claimed by the wife, it couldn't be seen like this. The words circled over Liliana as if she weren't there, but away from them, under. The head physic tried to turn her face away from the heap her husband was in only to find that she pushed him away. "Liliana.." He muttered at the tone of voice calling him awake. "Ye are 'ere..." He tried to reach for her hand, uncaring of how filthy it was, if only to brush it against the flesh he was denied the nights of a cold war. He managed to lift his head, his fingers to weak to cup her face, they grazed her throat. "I wouldn't.die..on the sea..." (d)

Liliana:Liliana was not like some women. She would not faint at the sight of blood nor bile. At the sight of her husband nearly dead. Though it weakened her, made her heart ache, there was strength in her. Strength given to her by Kendrew. Hand would reach to take his, holding it tenderly, as she felt his fingers graze against her throat. "Nay, you would not dare. You will not die on me Kendrew Laren Campbell. Am I understood?" Her words were firm, telling him that he would not defy her, even as her voice cracked from the fear flowing through her. [d]

Kendrew"Aye, wife. Aye. Ye be the stone o'...o the home. Word o' woman o'e rthe hearth is like law.." Humor peppered his sagging tone, weak smile a compliment in a black hour as he stroked her skin. Falling forward, he leaned against her body and found a solace if only for a moment. They pulled him up to stand, his body carried in strong hands. "Come, lets get him to a room. The chill is nay good for 'im," they physician said, "You can command him from there" (d)

LilianaThat he could find humor, even now, was a good sign. Liliana clung to it strongly. Hoping and praying. Nodding, whispering gently,"Let them take you inside, Kendrew. We must see that you are taken care of." Looking over at the physician, not carrying that her gown was now likely covered in dirt and blood, she gave a feeble smile. Following them inside, worried gaze constantly on her husband, she whispered,"Please do not take him." [d]

Kendrew "Prepare boiling water, two cauldrons! I want the tools sterilized, another pot for cleansing and steep a bowl of herbs, we will smote the infection out o' him." The command was given as he was carried inside. How everything blurred past in one line of gray-blue color. Voices bled through the curtain with little difference save for her tone like bells peeling from a church tower. He cried out, and when put into the bed the work began. Scissors cut up the rest of his tunic to make his body revealed. On the right side of his body was a deep gash red and pussed that a clean, boiled knife was being taken too. To minimize the chance of infection, a strong wine was mixed with whiskey, the contents put over a flame to be poured over the wound. Suddenly, a medicinal batch of herbs were added to a bowl of water, the fragrance meant to encourage him to cough, to take the illness out of his lungs (d)

LilianaStanding inside, listening to the orders being given, Liliana watched as they tended to her husband. Some had tried to get her to leave, to not watch this, but she would not be budged. This was her husband and she would be here for him. Nibbling on her bottom lip, hands grasped tightly together, she worried over everything they did. Part of her wanted to demand he be tended to by Aislin, but the other part called that foolish. They knew what they were doing. Or so she prayed. Liliana stood there, watching, with nobody to lean on. Trying to be strong for her Kendrew. [d]

Kendrew"The messenger..please..Ah need to tell." His chest spasmed as he struggled for air, the air hurt to inhale! So thick, the scent was strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. They turned his head as he brought up the product of his respitory infection, only for him to scream out as they poured the wine mixuture over his wounds to sterilize eat, to eat away at infected flesh. He cried out, and reached out for a hand lest he begin to swat at those who would help him. (d)

Liliana Hearing those words, chocolate eyes moved to observe each person in the room. None seemed ready to comply with his wishes. All the man wanted was a messenger. It should have been obvious there was something of importance he had to tell. Stepping forward, grabbing a man by the arm, she stared hard and spoke loud,"Sir Kendrew, my husband, is not to be ignored. He wishes a messenger and one he shall have. Now." That last word was hard, brooking no defiance. They would send someone for a messenger for Kendrew or she'd bloody well make them. [d]

Kendrew The Lady Campbell made the people within that room stop - pause was given, the eyes of the man grabbed stared at her before casting an eye to his master. "Please!" He snarled, coughing, choking on bitterness at the news being quelled. "The lady Campbell is your superior" the physic said, "Heed her." To be heeded? Did Liliana think herself one to give admonishment or command? He struggled to sit up, shuttering after the wine passed, only for another round of it to go through over his shoulder. His eyes told of a man who fought his battles hard and equally beaten by the toils endured. "The King 'as moved past Hadrian's wall.. The Bruce..has gone tae England. I was at the Wall, then north..o'er to Larkan. The Duke n' Duchess have more..allies..." (d)

Liliana Honestly, Liliana did not know what she was doing. Whether or not they felt she had a right to give such an order had not crossed her mind. In this instance, where her husband was concerned, they would listen. That was the only thought to pass through her mind. Releasing the man, listening to the news, and stared. What was she to say? She did not know. [d]

Kendrew "Come...come tae me.." He beckoned out a hand to curl fingers over on the invisible rope to pull her over. "Please..please Liliana.." Hazel eyes searched hers out across the room as they began to pick away the dead skin, seering portions shut with small slivers of flame-hot steel so it could be join and stiched. What would you do for love? Move mountains, part the ocean? Command the forces of heaven and earth? (d)

Liliana There was no need to say please. The moment he asked her to come her feet had her at his side. Crouching down next to him, hand taking one of his, she'd whisper tenderly,"I am here, Kendrew." What had he been through? What had he seen? Liliana wished to ease his pain, inner and outer, to make him better. As he had her. Could she though? [d]

Kendrew: He was her; she was him and could inspire the better in him with but a word. He grasped onto her hand as he looked up to her eyes.."I'm....sae glad..tae..be home." Muttered words, a kiss to her hand, moist. (d)

-- This is a continuation of time as Kendrew comes to the city, from being found by Lucius on the shoreline, the remainder of this story may be played in this thread as well as within the Journey Forward section. --