Post by Anwen of Connacht on Jan 25, 2009 7:46:00 GMT -6
The rage and anger in his sea-green eyes made her shiver. When he suddenly let go of her she stumbled back against the table hard enough that it would leave a mark. Never had she seen him look at her that way... as if.... as if he could not stand the site of her. Her heart broke but her anger soon encased it in ice once more.
Many of those gathered had turned their gazes away when his swept the room, his sword at his side... feeling humiliated and small she watched as he strode from the room his anger leaving an invisible trail behind him for all to see. Anwen scanned the room her gaze met Gerard's who look shocked by the display that had just occurred. Walking to him like nothing had happened... "Gerard.... I leave this night with those gathered to search for whomever helped the ebony child. Have Azryk saddled and tell the men to wait for me." her words were as cold as the weather outside saying nothing more nor waiting for him to speak she turned and headed for her room to change .
Entering the chamber she shared with her husband she gathered her two piece leather outfit, cloak, and her swords and said not a word as she did so. She then went to her private solar to change... strapping her twin blades in the scabbard across her back, cloak in hand she descended the stairs and walked out into the bailey her horse was ready she looked to Jonathan and nodded he looked confused by the order that they wait for her. "M'Lady are you sure tis wise for you to come?" he asked with a glance to the window that was the Lord’s room.
She followed his gaze and steeled her heart even more "You can stay if you would like but I leave this night with or without you." her tone flat, no emotion there, and Jonathan was sad for that. "I am a weapon... and a weapon I shall be." she turned to mount but a hand on her arm had her whirling to see who so dared ... it was Gerard. "Anwen, he loves you like he has loved no other it just that he..." she held up a hand to stop his words. "Make no excuses or apologize for him... he made it very clear what I am to him this night a weapon for him alone to command... he does not love anything except power Gerard... I was a fool to believe his words."
Pain and hurt were shinning in her eyes... "Tell him if you need to that I leave... I will come back when I have answers." with that she mounted and spurred her mount... soon they were racing from the gates with twelve knight's following her.
Her mind raced... had he ever spoke true to her? He looked at her with so much rage and contempt... if she never returned would he notice...? NO! her heart screamed loudly. She pushed her horse and her men hard trying to make up time.... once clear of Maubrey lands she slowed her mount and looked for signs.... tracking something else she was good at.
He did not look at her when she entered the chambers. He wanted to take her by the arms, and throw her upon the bed and make passionate love to her… but pride… and fear… prevented him… Had he pushed her away with more than physical force? Had he irreparably caused her pain… or destroyed something he valued most?
Her departure would not allow her to see him move toward the door, his hand raised to beckon her back… nor his lips poised to ask her to stay… and when she slammed the door… his heart hit rock-bottom. Going to the large window, he could see the bailey from his window… below, he saw Gerard speaking with her… and her hand raised to cut him off… Then her departure with the knights in pursuit of accompanying the angry woman.
He wanted to call out to her… to urge her quick return to him… but he did not, for he knew it would futile… Once again… rage forced his hand to destroy something he wanted… He paced around the room stopping only to look in a mirror. “What have yu done? Once again you have raged upon what yu desired most. You force away by your actions what you want most by yer side.”
Then he sat upon the bed, the days of yesterday mixing in with the present. His mind reflecting a conversation of youth. “Murielle… know that I love yu… I care not if yu are married… Your husband is always gone with war… I am always here with you…” and the woman replied… “But William… you are married to Davina… you and her are destined to serve the King of England… I am but the Scot’s Harper…” A youthful William replied… “But tis you I love…” Then the door opened and Davina stood in the doorway, a babe in her arms. The tears began to form and drain down the pink cheeks… As her heart broke, and tears stained her face, she turned and ran from the room. William looked to Murielle, and she replied… “Go after her William… I shall never give you what you want… Davina does love you…” William cursed and ran from the room after Davina.
History would never have been written about the love triangle that would divide a nation… of William’s love for Murielle, the Scot’s Harper… and the love of the rulers daughter had for the English knight… nor the rage the man had after his love was denounced… the rage that killed the father, the Lord of the Isles… that would eventually send them all on a course with destiny.
William sat on the bed, his heart aching for the love he once had… and the love he now feared lost. Would his inner rage once again propel those to meetings with destinies yet unknown??
Anwen's heart was heavy and her mind replayed the events from the hall over and over like a movie. Seeing some tracks in the snow she dismounted to take a closer look... "Two horses, both riders light in weight heading North." she said as Jonathan came up behind her.
She was all business for she could not let her heart interfere with her duty.... a weapon he had called her. She shook her head "Mount up we ride North!" she called out in a clear voice. The sun was setting but she would push on until they had to camp before once more following the tracks... at least it had stopped snowing.
Once more seated on her horse she and the twelve knight's with her continued on...hours they rode and night was upon them when she called for a halt and camp to be made. Did he care she had left? Her thoughts kept turning to her husband... she hated that she had allowed someone to get close... she loved him.
The camp made men went to hunt and she set about setting up the watch she would take the first shift. She had eaten little and Jonathan frowned for though he knew his place and his duty to protect her as Gerard had issued long ago. He did not like to see her hurting as she was now.
The men settled down to get what sleep they could as the flame haired woman kept watch. Two hours later a knight came to take over and this would be so until dawn came. She found her bed roll and tried to sleep but a face haunted her dreams... William's face... and for the first time in a long time she cried.
Orders had went forth… the campaigns would not wait for Winter’s end. He knew the Gryphon too well by now… He knew his son. So with fleeting hooves, the orders were sent to commanders…. Not word of full scale attacks, but opportunistic attacks to whittle and weaken the Gryphon’s army…. To cut supply lines to the capital… to choke the city until the people begged for mercy… and if they opened the gates to escape… to cut down any that would dare attempt such…
William was calling in all the favors that were owed to him… mercenary armies, ships, countries loyal to the English King, anything weapon, soldier, or vessel of the sea that could be used against the Isles. He WOULD have his destiny or die trying… He would be KING !!
The man sat upon a soft bed, whilst his woman… his wife… rode out to answer questions… Lo, he did miss her… her scent… the touch of her calloused hands upon his body… He wondered how she fared against the weather. He laid back against the soft pillow where their heads would lie beside one another… a soft kiss from such a successful tool… how could one woman be both fierce fighter and a loving wife?
His head sank into the pillow, his thoughts upon the red-headed woman who was his wife… and his assassin… Soon, his eyes closed, and his mind was inhabited by visions of yesteryear… The scene was fields of battle that passed… and of a young Knight of England who had come to Skye with an army for the English King… and who was closing in on the capital city to proclaim his rights. Closed eyes began to flicker under closed lids as William began to see the visions of long ago…
The next scene his mind focused on was one of the capital’s Cathedral… on that fateful afternoon… The Lord of the Isles, Alan MacRauri and his oldest daughter were in the Cathedral praying for their safety and those of the people of Skye. For days, Alan had refused to leave the city for the sake of his people… and the young English knight finally broke thru the gates.
In the Cathedral, as he and his kin knelt with heads down, in came the English Lord… who had them bound… including the Priest… the conversation had tones of hatred for the Lord of the Isles and the young knight kept asking about a crown…“Where is the Brooch?” the young knight yelled at Lord Alan… but Lord Alan refused to tell its secret… then the English Lord thrust his sword in the chest of the Priest… still Lord Alan refused… One hand upon a dagger, the other entwined in the hair of the oldest daughter… then with lil remorse, the young knight slit the throat of the Lord’s daughter… blood spilling upon hand and clothes… marring the alter railings… Still Lord Alan refused to divulge the secrets he held… then finally the sword was shoved into Lord Alan as the English Lord asked God to condemn the MacRauri’s for all eternity….
Unbeknownst to any, William was thrashing in his bed in the same motions he now dreamt about. Now he lay still… for only moments, until the mind began again… “M’Lord, the Chamberlain is imprisoned as ordered… none shall enter except yu M’Lord…” the Captain said… William smiled and wiped the blood from the sword… “Gerard… Then all is well it seems… Turas Lan and Skye is ours for the taking…” his hair brown and green eyes, the orbs flashed in contentment. “Alan and the future Lord of the Isles is dead… and his court dismantled… I shall be the reigning Lord and yu, my Captain…” the young ambitious knight said. “M’Lord… don’t yu think we should have executed the Chamberlain as well?” the young Captain asked. The young Lord just laughed… “Now with that man dead, how can I wear the Brooch, and be the Lord of the Isles?”
His mind soon pauses, his breathing settles back into a regular pace, and his heartbeat slows… and before the man could wake up… his mind begins to roll back the years… this time the years had passed and he was in MacRauri Manor, named after the former Lord of the Isles… today they call it Griffin Castle. There in the halls of the Manor, came forth the woman named Murielle, the King’s Harper… William had just ascended the stairs on his way to his room after yet another argument with his wife, Davina. “Murielle, I must speak with you…” The woman replying… “William, still yae fight with Davina… She loves yae sae… but yae are driving her away…” The knight takes the woman gently by the arms and pushes her against the wall, his body pressing against hers. “Murielle… yu know I love only yu… I desire you… I want a family with you… why do you shun me… I could provide all you ever desire… I could give yu a kingdom…” The woman attempting vainly against his superior strength… “William… yae and Ah are both married… Ah love yae as a brother, baet twill bae no other love between us... Ah dun want a kingdom… I love mae husband…”
William once again was fighting in his sleep… this time with memories of yesteryear that plagued him… “You could learn to love me… with yer husband dead from battle… I could be yer only love… I could send Davina and the baby away… then we could be happy together…” Moments from him taking her body in the shadows of a hallway nook; Davina came up the stairs, heard Murielle’s muffled screams and saw her husband atop her kin…
William thrust about in the bed, remembering old conversations that would shove him in the directions of today’s war. In the sanity of an awakened world, he would never delve into the memories of old, but the circumstances of Anwen leaving angry, and Adam having a strong foothold in Skye, now sent his memories into overdrive.
Dejected by the one he truly loved… married to a woman who he once thought he loved, now despised, because of her heritage… and the yearnings of being a king drove William and his young Captain, Gerard, to rethink the plan for Skye… William had ordered his family to England, while leaving his army in Skye. Davina continued to lure Murielle to England, mayhaps to keep William from killing her and her son. Meanwhile the sisters contrived a plan to hide the secrets of the MacRauri and the throne of Skye. Through the years, they would labyrinth and maze information throughout the MacRauri Manor and its subterranean footprint and pray that those whose heirs would come after, would find the secrets for the future. It was the hinting of the secrets through the years that would give William fits of rage and forge his drive to end the Aberdeens and the MacRauris. Thus the drive for power was created in this man and hence history would be extracted from his actions.
Three days and still no sign of the boy or the one that helped him escape. Anwen woke the morning of day four, in a mood that did not bode well, she called Jonathan to her and told him that he and two men would stay with her the others were to go back to Glasgow with report for William of was happening. She handed him the sealed parchment and turned to tend Azryk, before they started their search again.
The men left as soon as camp broke with a nod to Lady Maubrey they rode for home. When William opened the missive it would read....
"M'Lord no signs of the boy or the one who helped. Jonathan and two are still with me the rest as you can see have returned. I will send word when I have news." Anwen
She wanted so badly to tell him she loved him but she did not... he had made it clear her position that night in the hall and she would not cause herself more pain by sharing feelings she was trying to lock away.
Anwen and her three knights continued the search... it brought them to a small clearing surrounded by trees.... near a lake, they dismounted to rest their steeds. She remembered the day William had taken her on a picnic by the lake at the Chateau... shaking her head she gave orders to Malcolm and David to search the trails to the east... and Jonathan and her would search to the west and meet back in the clearing before moving on.
Suddenly the sound of riders rang through the air she turned to see at least ten men bearing down at them "AMBUSH!!!" she yelled it was to late the riders were circling and cut them off from their horses… it was to be a ground fight then. She drew her twin blades and took her stance with Jonathan at her back "Give nothing, take all!" she commanded just as one of the men bore down on her from his horse and leapt off "The Bytch is mine take the others!" he shouted to his men.
Anwen smirked as the man circled her "You say that like it is a bad thing... Sir... trust me I am not easy pickings." she hissed dodging his first strike easily, Her men were fighting for all they were worth, somehow her and Jonathan had become separated... the attackers looked pleased... she continued to fight having drawn blood from the man she looked pleased, then he slashed her arm with his blade... she hissed out. She looked around to see how her men were fairing and in that moment the man she had been fighting took advantage he delivered a sudden blow that knocked her off balance and was about ready to deliver the killing blow when he heard a shout "I want her ALIVE!!" he looked and saw the woman who had hired him and gave a nod... he then punched her in the face, her head rocked back as she hit the ground gasping for breath. FOOLISH! she thought to herself. He raised his fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle... his horse came to him with one more blow to the red head's face he gathered her in his arms and mounted and with the hilt of his sword hit her in the back of the head rendering her unconscious. Her men kept fighting... but they were out numbered... all lay upon the ground injured or dead... Jonathan's gaze went to the woman who had cried out he had seen her before and would not forget that face... KIRA! The last thing Jonathan saw was his Lady being carried off on the back of a horse with one of the attackers... then t his world faded to black...
William moped about the castle and stayed pretty much to himself. Any interaction usually resulted in a fit of rage, and those who valued their lives tended to avoid those. Then the missive came… and the messenger was so afraid he would be next to disappear from the castle… he stood almost shaking in his boots… A sigh of relief from the messenger as his Lord took the missiove and slammed the door. That was a fast getaway he would think as he jumped down the stairs getting as far away as he could.
Days later, one of the twelve that accompanied Anwen returned… but none the less near dead. Somehow he had managed to obtain a horse, and equally impressive to have climbed aboard. Now back at the castle, his arrival had William looking over his dead body. Shaking his head, h looks to Gerard… “Get a patrol… go out and find her… return not lest yu have her…” then the man who grew older with Anwen’s each absent day, stormed off, yet again secluding himself.
Gerard mumbled, as he gathered his things, kissed her beloved wife… and headed to the stables… “War in winter… senseless patrols, rations thinning… what has gotten into M’Lord…?” Still the old knight would listen and obey… he had done things of this nature before under the Maubrey banner… and had seen… and done… some unscrupulous things… The youthful years were the times of pride, challenges, and honors… now he ached even to mount a horse…. But he would go forth as ordered… if William could move as he did, so could Gerard…
The blow to the back of her head was sharp and sudden, then darkness encompassed her. Her body was being jostled about and her head throbbed, ribs ached as she began to wake up. She was lying face down over the back of a horse a large man holding her firmly in place with a large hand to her back... then another blow came and once more darkness surrounded her.
The man had seen she was beginning to wake and though they were close to the small cottage, Kira rode beside him and smirked when she saw him hit her again. "You have done well Arnold... and I will reward you well for all you have done this day." did more lie in those words to the large mercenary... of course!
They had arrived and dismounted, another man took their horses to hide them behind the cottage as Arnold carried the flame haired woman within shack.Anwen's arms were bound to shackles from a stone wall and her feet tied together so she could do nothing more than stand. Kira walked over and slapped the face she had come to loathe more than anything "Wake up!" she spat.
Anwen's head snapped back from the blow and slowly she came to... blue eyes opening as she scanned the room wondering where she was "He cannot save you... no one can!" Kira smirked with pure malice glowing in dark eyes. "I am Kira.... not that you need to know but I want you to know my name for you will be saying it over and over as you plead for your pathetic life." Kira turned to Arnold and nodded. The man stepped forward and before Anwen could react he punched her in the ribs with such viciousness it stole the air from her lungs. The he struck her across the face, her head rocked back and she met his gaze squarely. always the warrior... always the killer.
Anwen tested the bonds holding her arms and found them solid and knew she was in trouble if she could not fight back in anyway. "Is that all ye have?" she asked as she spit blood onto the ground in front of her. She met Kira's gaze with a icy one "Could you not fight me on your own Bytch!" she hissed as she tried to breathe normal once more.
The torture continued for a while longer until no fight was thought to be left within her... it was then Kira decided to speak again "You have not asked why? I find that surprising but none the less... I will tell you... You took what was to be mine.... WIlliam, his love, his name!" she screeched.
Grabbing a handful of Anwen's hair, Kira tilted her head so they looked eye to eye "He was mine and you stole him, and now I will tell you who and what he really is. He has lied to you from day one... you did not always know him as he said, but instead he found you. Brought you to his home and made you what you are...." she stopped and let the words strike their mark. Once she saw Anwen try to process it all she laughed and it sounded like pure evil come to life. "He made you his assassin the greatest in his command... and you so simple minded as you must be bought it .... all of it.... lies...!! he does not love you... he is using you." she let go of Anwen's hair.
"Show her what the price of stealing from me is Arnold" she watched as the man once more began to hit Anwen, but true joy lit her face when he grabbed a small wooden club and slammed it into one of Anwen's legs.... the sound of bones braking made Kira squeal with pleasure "that is it.... break her...." she was practically jumping.
Anwen screamed out as the pain lanced through her leg and into her body.... she was going to die at the hands of this man. Minutes stretched into hours and then days. And every time she woke she felt more and more pain and was not sure how much longer she could survive.
She was battered. bruised, bones broken and she was bleeding, but they continued to punish her . Almost to the point of pleading for mercy on the fifth day.... Kira came to her and poured water into her dry throat..."Wake.... I want you to look at me when I end your life." Arnold was not there and Kira was holding a knife in front of Anwen's face and before she could let out a breath the dark haired woman took the knife and ran it down one cheek Anwen cried out and Kira laughed "He will not think you so damn pretty now..... no one will." Anwen was exhausted having withstood days of this cruelty she passed out and prayed she would not wake again.
Many of those gathered had turned their gazes away when his swept the room, his sword at his side... feeling humiliated and small she watched as he strode from the room his anger leaving an invisible trail behind him for all to see. Anwen scanned the room her gaze met Gerard's who look shocked by the display that had just occurred. Walking to him like nothing had happened... "Gerard.... I leave this night with those gathered to search for whomever helped the ebony child. Have Azryk saddled and tell the men to wait for me." her words were as cold as the weather outside saying nothing more nor waiting for him to speak she turned and headed for her room to change .
Entering the chamber she shared with her husband she gathered her two piece leather outfit, cloak, and her swords and said not a word as she did so. She then went to her private solar to change... strapping her twin blades in the scabbard across her back, cloak in hand she descended the stairs and walked out into the bailey her horse was ready she looked to Jonathan and nodded he looked confused by the order that they wait for her. "M'Lady are you sure tis wise for you to come?" he asked with a glance to the window that was the Lord’s room.
She followed his gaze and steeled her heart even more "You can stay if you would like but I leave this night with or without you." her tone flat, no emotion there, and Jonathan was sad for that. "I am a weapon... and a weapon I shall be." she turned to mount but a hand on her arm had her whirling to see who so dared ... it was Gerard. "Anwen, he loves you like he has loved no other it just that he..." she held up a hand to stop his words. "Make no excuses or apologize for him... he made it very clear what I am to him this night a weapon for him alone to command... he does not love anything except power Gerard... I was a fool to believe his words."
Pain and hurt were shinning in her eyes... "Tell him if you need to that I leave... I will come back when I have answers." with that she mounted and spurred her mount... soon they were racing from the gates with twelve knight's following her.
Her mind raced... had he ever spoke true to her? He looked at her with so much rage and contempt... if she never returned would he notice...? NO! her heart screamed loudly. She pushed her horse and her men hard trying to make up time.... once clear of Maubrey lands she slowed her mount and looked for signs.... tracking something else she was good at.
He did not look at her when she entered the chambers. He wanted to take her by the arms, and throw her upon the bed and make passionate love to her… but pride… and fear… prevented him… Had he pushed her away with more than physical force? Had he irreparably caused her pain… or destroyed something he valued most?
Her departure would not allow her to see him move toward the door, his hand raised to beckon her back… nor his lips poised to ask her to stay… and when she slammed the door… his heart hit rock-bottom. Going to the large window, he could see the bailey from his window… below, he saw Gerard speaking with her… and her hand raised to cut him off… Then her departure with the knights in pursuit of accompanying the angry woman.
He wanted to call out to her… to urge her quick return to him… but he did not, for he knew it would futile… Once again… rage forced his hand to destroy something he wanted… He paced around the room stopping only to look in a mirror. “What have yu done? Once again you have raged upon what yu desired most. You force away by your actions what you want most by yer side.”
Then he sat upon the bed, the days of yesterday mixing in with the present. His mind reflecting a conversation of youth. “Murielle… know that I love yu… I care not if yu are married… Your husband is always gone with war… I am always here with you…” and the woman replied… “But William… you are married to Davina… you and her are destined to serve the King of England… I am but the Scot’s Harper…” A youthful William replied… “But tis you I love…” Then the door opened and Davina stood in the doorway, a babe in her arms. The tears began to form and drain down the pink cheeks… As her heart broke, and tears stained her face, she turned and ran from the room. William looked to Murielle, and she replied… “Go after her William… I shall never give you what you want… Davina does love you…” William cursed and ran from the room after Davina.
History would never have been written about the love triangle that would divide a nation… of William’s love for Murielle, the Scot’s Harper… and the love of the rulers daughter had for the English knight… nor the rage the man had after his love was denounced… the rage that killed the father, the Lord of the Isles… that would eventually send them all on a course with destiny.
William sat on the bed, his heart aching for the love he once had… and the love he now feared lost. Would his inner rage once again propel those to meetings with destinies yet unknown??
Anwen's heart was heavy and her mind replayed the events from the hall over and over like a movie. Seeing some tracks in the snow she dismounted to take a closer look... "Two horses, both riders light in weight heading North." she said as Jonathan came up behind her.
She was all business for she could not let her heart interfere with her duty.... a weapon he had called her. She shook her head "Mount up we ride North!" she called out in a clear voice. The sun was setting but she would push on until they had to camp before once more following the tracks... at least it had stopped snowing.
Once more seated on her horse she and the twelve knight's with her continued on...hours they rode and night was upon them when she called for a halt and camp to be made. Did he care she had left? Her thoughts kept turning to her husband... she hated that she had allowed someone to get close... she loved him.
The camp made men went to hunt and she set about setting up the watch she would take the first shift. She had eaten little and Jonathan frowned for though he knew his place and his duty to protect her as Gerard had issued long ago. He did not like to see her hurting as she was now.
The men settled down to get what sleep they could as the flame haired woman kept watch. Two hours later a knight came to take over and this would be so until dawn came. She found her bed roll and tried to sleep but a face haunted her dreams... William's face... and for the first time in a long time she cried.
Orders had went forth… the campaigns would not wait for Winter’s end. He knew the Gryphon too well by now… He knew his son. So with fleeting hooves, the orders were sent to commanders…. Not word of full scale attacks, but opportunistic attacks to whittle and weaken the Gryphon’s army…. To cut supply lines to the capital… to choke the city until the people begged for mercy… and if they opened the gates to escape… to cut down any that would dare attempt such…
William was calling in all the favors that were owed to him… mercenary armies, ships, countries loyal to the English King, anything weapon, soldier, or vessel of the sea that could be used against the Isles. He WOULD have his destiny or die trying… He would be KING !!
The man sat upon a soft bed, whilst his woman… his wife… rode out to answer questions… Lo, he did miss her… her scent… the touch of her calloused hands upon his body… He wondered how she fared against the weather. He laid back against the soft pillow where their heads would lie beside one another… a soft kiss from such a successful tool… how could one woman be both fierce fighter and a loving wife?
His head sank into the pillow, his thoughts upon the red-headed woman who was his wife… and his assassin… Soon, his eyes closed, and his mind was inhabited by visions of yesteryear… The scene was fields of battle that passed… and of a young Knight of England who had come to Skye with an army for the English King… and who was closing in on the capital city to proclaim his rights. Closed eyes began to flicker under closed lids as William began to see the visions of long ago…
The next scene his mind focused on was one of the capital’s Cathedral… on that fateful afternoon… The Lord of the Isles, Alan MacRauri and his oldest daughter were in the Cathedral praying for their safety and those of the people of Skye. For days, Alan had refused to leave the city for the sake of his people… and the young English knight finally broke thru the gates.
In the Cathedral, as he and his kin knelt with heads down, in came the English Lord… who had them bound… including the Priest… the conversation had tones of hatred for the Lord of the Isles and the young knight kept asking about a crown…“Where is the Brooch?” the young knight yelled at Lord Alan… but Lord Alan refused to tell its secret… then the English Lord thrust his sword in the chest of the Priest… still Lord Alan refused… One hand upon a dagger, the other entwined in the hair of the oldest daughter… then with lil remorse, the young knight slit the throat of the Lord’s daughter… blood spilling upon hand and clothes… marring the alter railings… Still Lord Alan refused to divulge the secrets he held… then finally the sword was shoved into Lord Alan as the English Lord asked God to condemn the MacRauri’s for all eternity….
Unbeknownst to any, William was thrashing in his bed in the same motions he now dreamt about. Now he lay still… for only moments, until the mind began again… “M’Lord, the Chamberlain is imprisoned as ordered… none shall enter except yu M’Lord…” the Captain said… William smiled and wiped the blood from the sword… “Gerard… Then all is well it seems… Turas Lan and Skye is ours for the taking…” his hair brown and green eyes, the orbs flashed in contentment. “Alan and the future Lord of the Isles is dead… and his court dismantled… I shall be the reigning Lord and yu, my Captain…” the young ambitious knight said. “M’Lord… don’t yu think we should have executed the Chamberlain as well?” the young Captain asked. The young Lord just laughed… “Now with that man dead, how can I wear the Brooch, and be the Lord of the Isles?”
His mind soon pauses, his breathing settles back into a regular pace, and his heartbeat slows… and before the man could wake up… his mind begins to roll back the years… this time the years had passed and he was in MacRauri Manor, named after the former Lord of the Isles… today they call it Griffin Castle. There in the halls of the Manor, came forth the woman named Murielle, the King’s Harper… William had just ascended the stairs on his way to his room after yet another argument with his wife, Davina. “Murielle, I must speak with you…” The woman replying… “William, still yae fight with Davina… She loves yae sae… but yae are driving her away…” The knight takes the woman gently by the arms and pushes her against the wall, his body pressing against hers. “Murielle… yu know I love only yu… I desire you… I want a family with you… why do you shun me… I could provide all you ever desire… I could give yu a kingdom…” The woman attempting vainly against his superior strength… “William… yae and Ah are both married… Ah love yae as a brother, baet twill bae no other love between us... Ah dun want a kingdom… I love mae husband…”
William once again was fighting in his sleep… this time with memories of yesteryear that plagued him… “You could learn to love me… with yer husband dead from battle… I could be yer only love… I could send Davina and the baby away… then we could be happy together…” Moments from him taking her body in the shadows of a hallway nook; Davina came up the stairs, heard Murielle’s muffled screams and saw her husband atop her kin…
William thrust about in the bed, remembering old conversations that would shove him in the directions of today’s war. In the sanity of an awakened world, he would never delve into the memories of old, but the circumstances of Anwen leaving angry, and Adam having a strong foothold in Skye, now sent his memories into overdrive.
Dejected by the one he truly loved… married to a woman who he once thought he loved, now despised, because of her heritage… and the yearnings of being a king drove William and his young Captain, Gerard, to rethink the plan for Skye… William had ordered his family to England, while leaving his army in Skye. Davina continued to lure Murielle to England, mayhaps to keep William from killing her and her son. Meanwhile the sisters contrived a plan to hide the secrets of the MacRauri and the throne of Skye. Through the years, they would labyrinth and maze information throughout the MacRauri Manor and its subterranean footprint and pray that those whose heirs would come after, would find the secrets for the future. It was the hinting of the secrets through the years that would give William fits of rage and forge his drive to end the Aberdeens and the MacRauris. Thus the drive for power was created in this man and hence history would be extracted from his actions.
Three days and still no sign of the boy or the one that helped him escape. Anwen woke the morning of day four, in a mood that did not bode well, she called Jonathan to her and told him that he and two men would stay with her the others were to go back to Glasgow with report for William of was happening. She handed him the sealed parchment and turned to tend Azryk, before they started their search again.
The men left as soon as camp broke with a nod to Lady Maubrey they rode for home. When William opened the missive it would read....
"M'Lord no signs of the boy or the one who helped. Jonathan and two are still with me the rest as you can see have returned. I will send word when I have news." Anwen
She wanted so badly to tell him she loved him but she did not... he had made it clear her position that night in the hall and she would not cause herself more pain by sharing feelings she was trying to lock away.
Anwen and her three knights continued the search... it brought them to a small clearing surrounded by trees.... near a lake, they dismounted to rest their steeds. She remembered the day William had taken her on a picnic by the lake at the Chateau... shaking her head she gave orders to Malcolm and David to search the trails to the east... and Jonathan and her would search to the west and meet back in the clearing before moving on.
Suddenly the sound of riders rang through the air she turned to see at least ten men bearing down at them "AMBUSH!!!" she yelled it was to late the riders were circling and cut them off from their horses… it was to be a ground fight then. She drew her twin blades and took her stance with Jonathan at her back "Give nothing, take all!" she commanded just as one of the men bore down on her from his horse and leapt off "The Bytch is mine take the others!" he shouted to his men.
Anwen smirked as the man circled her "You say that like it is a bad thing... Sir... trust me I am not easy pickings." she hissed dodging his first strike easily, Her men were fighting for all they were worth, somehow her and Jonathan had become separated... the attackers looked pleased... she continued to fight having drawn blood from the man she looked pleased, then he slashed her arm with his blade... she hissed out. She looked around to see how her men were fairing and in that moment the man she had been fighting took advantage he delivered a sudden blow that knocked her off balance and was about ready to deliver the killing blow when he heard a shout "I want her ALIVE!!" he looked and saw the woman who had hired him and gave a nod... he then punched her in the face, her head rocked back as she hit the ground gasping for breath. FOOLISH! she thought to herself. He raised his fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle... his horse came to him with one more blow to the red head's face he gathered her in his arms and mounted and with the hilt of his sword hit her in the back of the head rendering her unconscious. Her men kept fighting... but they were out numbered... all lay upon the ground injured or dead... Jonathan's gaze went to the woman who had cried out he had seen her before and would not forget that face... KIRA! The last thing Jonathan saw was his Lady being carried off on the back of a horse with one of the attackers... then t his world faded to black...
William moped about the castle and stayed pretty much to himself. Any interaction usually resulted in a fit of rage, and those who valued their lives tended to avoid those. Then the missive came… and the messenger was so afraid he would be next to disappear from the castle… he stood almost shaking in his boots… A sigh of relief from the messenger as his Lord took the missiove and slammed the door. That was a fast getaway he would think as he jumped down the stairs getting as far away as he could.
Days later, one of the twelve that accompanied Anwen returned… but none the less near dead. Somehow he had managed to obtain a horse, and equally impressive to have climbed aboard. Now back at the castle, his arrival had William looking over his dead body. Shaking his head, h looks to Gerard… “Get a patrol… go out and find her… return not lest yu have her…” then the man who grew older with Anwen’s each absent day, stormed off, yet again secluding himself.
Gerard mumbled, as he gathered his things, kissed her beloved wife… and headed to the stables… “War in winter… senseless patrols, rations thinning… what has gotten into M’Lord…?” Still the old knight would listen and obey… he had done things of this nature before under the Maubrey banner… and had seen… and done… some unscrupulous things… The youthful years were the times of pride, challenges, and honors… now he ached even to mount a horse…. But he would go forth as ordered… if William could move as he did, so could Gerard…
The blow to the back of her head was sharp and sudden, then darkness encompassed her. Her body was being jostled about and her head throbbed, ribs ached as she began to wake up. She was lying face down over the back of a horse a large man holding her firmly in place with a large hand to her back... then another blow came and once more darkness surrounded her.
The man had seen she was beginning to wake and though they were close to the small cottage, Kira rode beside him and smirked when she saw him hit her again. "You have done well Arnold... and I will reward you well for all you have done this day." did more lie in those words to the large mercenary... of course!
They had arrived and dismounted, another man took their horses to hide them behind the cottage as Arnold carried the flame haired woman within shack.Anwen's arms were bound to shackles from a stone wall and her feet tied together so she could do nothing more than stand. Kira walked over and slapped the face she had come to loathe more than anything "Wake up!" she spat.
Anwen's head snapped back from the blow and slowly she came to... blue eyes opening as she scanned the room wondering where she was "He cannot save you... no one can!" Kira smirked with pure malice glowing in dark eyes. "I am Kira.... not that you need to know but I want you to know my name for you will be saying it over and over as you plead for your pathetic life." Kira turned to Arnold and nodded. The man stepped forward and before Anwen could react he punched her in the ribs with such viciousness it stole the air from her lungs. The he struck her across the face, her head rocked back and she met his gaze squarely. always the warrior... always the killer.
Anwen tested the bonds holding her arms and found them solid and knew she was in trouble if she could not fight back in anyway. "Is that all ye have?" she asked as she spit blood onto the ground in front of her. She met Kira's gaze with a icy one "Could you not fight me on your own Bytch!" she hissed as she tried to breathe normal once more.
The torture continued for a while longer until no fight was thought to be left within her... it was then Kira decided to speak again "You have not asked why? I find that surprising but none the less... I will tell you... You took what was to be mine.... WIlliam, his love, his name!" she screeched.
Grabbing a handful of Anwen's hair, Kira tilted her head so they looked eye to eye "He was mine and you stole him, and now I will tell you who and what he really is. He has lied to you from day one... you did not always know him as he said, but instead he found you. Brought you to his home and made you what you are...." she stopped and let the words strike their mark. Once she saw Anwen try to process it all she laughed and it sounded like pure evil come to life. "He made you his assassin the greatest in his command... and you so simple minded as you must be bought it .... all of it.... lies...!! he does not love you... he is using you." she let go of Anwen's hair.
"Show her what the price of stealing from me is Arnold" she watched as the man once more began to hit Anwen, but true joy lit her face when he grabbed a small wooden club and slammed it into one of Anwen's legs.... the sound of bones braking made Kira squeal with pleasure "that is it.... break her...." she was practically jumping.
Anwen screamed out as the pain lanced through her leg and into her body.... she was going to die at the hands of this man. Minutes stretched into hours and then days. And every time she woke she felt more and more pain and was not sure how much longer she could survive.
She was battered. bruised, bones broken and she was bleeding, but they continued to punish her . Almost to the point of pleading for mercy on the fifth day.... Kira came to her and poured water into her dry throat..."Wake.... I want you to look at me when I end your life." Arnold was not there and Kira was holding a knife in front of Anwen's face and before she could let out a breath the dark haired woman took the knife and ran it down one cheek Anwen cried out and Kira laughed "He will not think you so damn pretty now..... no one will." Anwen was exhausted having withstood days of this cruelty she passed out and prayed she would not wake again.
