Author Topic: Possessed--Part Two  (Read 3093 times)

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Offline Evie

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Possessed--Part Two
« on: January 28, 2011, 09:28:31 am »
   Part Two—Star-Crossed
   August 10, 1124
   Rhemuth Castle

   “Are we all set?  I told Mother we'd be home by late afternoon.”  Seisyll gestured to his squire to take his last bundle of goods downstairs to where Sextus waited with the horses.  “Where’s Javana?”

   Jashana, clad in the black of mourning for Sir Ronan, was seated on the bed that she and her sister had shared during their stay at Rhemuth Castle.  She rose, walking over to the window to peer out at the parklands one more time.  “I’m…not certain, brother.  I believe she wanted to take a final walk around the gardens before we left for Tre-Arilan.”  That much, at least, was true.  What Jashana chose not to reveal was that her sister had left earlier that morning with Sir Stefan, and while the gardens had been mentioned as a possible destination, that certainly didn’t mean it would be their only stop.  Jashana bit her lip, hoping Javana knew what she was doing in encouraging Stefan’s affections.  She couldn’t blame her older sister for her interest in their brother’s friend—Sir Stefan was certainly quite attractive!—but Jashana had heard gossip from a few of the Court ladies about the young man’s eye for a fair damsel.  As far as she’d been able to determine, his behavior was circumspect enough when it came to the highborn ladies at Court, though it was whispered he had an immoderate fondness for the occasional willing chambermaid or rustic lass.

   Then again, so did her brothers, and Sextus at least made little effort to hide it.  If Seisyll was more discreet than their younger brother about his liaisons with the fair sex, Jashana suspected it was simply because finding himself the family paterfamilias at such a young age had forced him to adopt a more responsible approach to dealing with his male needs.  It certainly wasn’t because Uncle Denis was breathing down his neck; if anything, Seisyll had more freedom since their uncle had been transferred by the Church from Rhemuth to his new responsibilities in Dhassa two years previously.  But their uncle’s move had also signaled a transition of leadership in the Arilan family.  Though the timing had been pure happenstance, his departure from Rhemuth had coincided with the full coming of age of the youngest of his late brother’s children.  They hardly needed his guardianship anymore, unofficial though it might have been given his vows to the Church which took precedence over even family ties.  Not with Seisyll of an age to take on that role now.

   Seisyll heaved an impatient sigh.  “She promised she’d be back before noon.”  A glance out the window revealed the sun still high in the sky, but beginning to make its early afternoon descent towards the horizon.  “Close the shutters, Jashana; I think I’d best see what’s keeping our sister.”  Reaching into his belt pouch, he pulled out a small sphere of amber-colored crystal the size of a robin’s egg.  Jashana moved quietly towards the door, ensuring it was bolted to keep out anyone who might happen to drop by.  She had no desire to have to explain to anyone why her brother was sitting on her floor gazing intently into a ball of shiral.  No, explanations of that sort were bound to be awkward, given the popular sentiments towards Deryni.   Some of the ancient fears had begun to ease in these early years of King Kelson’s reign, but not so much that the Arilans were ready to reveal their magical heritage just yet.

   Seisyll stared into the sphere of shiral, mentally blocking out the world around him, narrowing his total focus and concentration on the world hidden within the crystal’s amber depths.  He called the older of his sisters to mind then, focusing his will on seeing her within that golden orb….


   Javana Arilan giggled as she wiped crumbs of pastry off Stefan’s lips.  He grinned down at her.

   “Quite tasty, but a little sticky, I think.  How was yours?”

   “The same,” she assured him, “though mine was flavored with rose syrup, not orange.”

   “Oh?  I quite like the flavor of roses.”  Stefan bent to kiss her.  “Especially second-hand,” he teased once he came up for air again.  

   Javana’s cheeks turned rosier than the syrup on her flaky pastry.  “I’m developing quite a taste for orange syrup myself.”

   “Are you?”  Stefan stroked her unbound hair, his fingers slipping through the silken tresses.  He drew her close again, heedless of the slight scrape of pottery against wood floor as Javana pushed the platter of sweetmeats out of his way in her eagerness to have nothing come between them.


   Seisyll’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in their surroundings.  The wall behind them was of stonework; that was of little help, since most of the walls in Rhemuth Castle were of the same stone, but these walls were bare, not whitewashed or covered with tapestries, which narrowed down their possible location somewhat.  The wooden floor was slightly worn by years of use, and a blanket had been laid over one corner of it, on which the couple sat beside a basket, some dishes and bowls of food, and a flagon of drink.  Various strongboxes and crates scattered and piled around the small chamber proclaimed it to be a storeroom of some sort.  There was a small window in the wall above their heads.  Seisyll focused his attention on the window, noting the view outside, the angle of the view in relation to the rest of Rhemuth Castle, and swore softly.

   “Where is she?”  Jashana asked, worried.

   “Looks like she’s in one of the storage rooms in the southern gatehouse, if that's the roof of St. Hilary's I'm seeing in the background.  If he’s tampered with Javana, I’ll kill him!”  

   “Oh, Seisyll, no!”  Jashana looked alarmed.  “She's in love with him, I think.”

   Seisyll looked up at his younger sister with a glare.  “I take it, since you didn't bother to ask who Javana is with, that you know something about this?”

   Jashana looked away, shamefaced.  “Well...I do know she said something this morning about taking a walk with Sir Stefan once more before we leave Rhemuth.  But I know nothing more than that, honestly!”

   “How long have they been seeing each other?”

   “Seisyll, we've been lodging in the same castle just over a week!  It would be a bit difficult for them not to see each other....”

   “You know what I mean!”  Seisyll fumed.  “Jashana, I've known Stefan for years.  I know his ways, and if Javana is in love with him, that's all the more cause for concern.  It's not marriage he has in mind, that's for damn certain; even if it were, he's not in any position to wed now and won't be able to for some years, unless he finds an heiress with a much larger dowry than I can settle on either of you.”  The young knight's lips tightened.  “If he intends an honorable courtship, sister, why hasn't he approached me for permission to call upon Javana?”

   “I--”  Jashana swallowed, tears in her eyes.  “I'm sorry, Seisyll.  I didn't realize.  I knew he was your friend, and so I trusted she'd be fine with him.”

   A shadow crossed Seisyll's features.  “I believed he was my friend also.”  He stood, crossed the room to strap on his sword belt.  “Well, I'd best find her before he can do any more damage.  Hopefully it's not gone any further than a few stolen kisses, and let's pray no one has noticed they've wandered off together unchaperoned.  The harm to her reputation could be irreparable if she's discovered alone with him.  An upper floor storeroom....Jesú, I know what he's thinking, but where in the hell has her common sense crawled off to?!”


   There was a token guard at the southern gatehouse, though most of the men normally posted there were still at their midday meal.  Seisyll gave the guardsmen a nod of greeting, feigning a cordiality he was far from feeling at that particular moment.  One of the guards, recognizing him, exchanged a few pleasantries before returning to his post, allowing Seisyll the chance to slip up one of the guardhouse staircases to the upper level chambers.

   The upper floors seemed mostly deserted at this time of the day.  Seisyll peeked into a few unlocked chambers, extending his senses slightly to probe past other rooms that were securely locked, hoping to encounter his sister’s familiar presence.  He was beginning to think he might have been mistaken in his guess of her location when he heard a soft sound from further down one corridor at the top floor.  He stopped in his tracks, listening intently.

   There it was again…a faint murmur of voices, and a soft moan.  Quietly, he headed for the sounds, reaching out with his senses to ensure it was Javana and Stefan he was drawing closer to, and not some other couple stealing away for a tryst in a hidden corner.  His questing probe encountered not just one shielded mind, but two.  Seisyll paused, startled.

   A quiet cry, quickly muffled.  Seisyll’s brisk stride took him directly to their chamber door, but it was locked.  He bit back a curse as he turned his attention towards the tumblers in the lock.

   “Stefan?!”  His sister’s voice, tight with passion and…was it wonder?  

   Her shields slipped briefly, and a wave of astonished pleasure rocked Seisyll back on his heels.  He slammed his own shields tightly shut in involuntary response, tears pricking his eyes as his mind moved the last tumbler into place and the door handle turned beneath his hand.


   Stefan looked up just in time to see the heavy wooden door fly open, Javana’s enraged brother stumbling through the doorway.  He acted instinctively, leaping up to block Seisyll’s view of his sister, trying to buy her enough time to rearrange her clothing, knowing even as he did so that his efforts were futile.  

   “You rutting bastard!”  Seisyll, red-faced with fury, leaped across the room at him.  Stefan straightened, did little to defend himself, though he kept a wary eye on the other knight’s sword, still sheathed in its scabbard.

   “Seisyll, no!”  Javana jumped up, hastily fumbling with her gown’s lacings.  She attempted to interpose herself between Stefan and her brother, but Stefan gently pushed her aside.  “It’s not what you’re thinking!  He hasn’t done that…he didn’t harm me….”  Her voice was frantic, desperate to make her brother listen.

   Seisyll’s fist shot out, collided with Stefan’s jaw, knocking him back against the wall.  Hands grabbed at Stefan's tunic, pulling him forward only to slam him back against the wall again.  

   Javana screamed, sobbing at her brother to stop, tugging at him from behind, but Stefan was only dimly conscious of them now as his vision started to spin, then fade.


   “Let’s go!”  Seisyll grabbed his sister’s arm, desperate to get her out of sight and away from the Castle before any of the guards downstairs came up to investigate the commotion and discovered her there.  It would hardly be a secret what had caused the fight between the two men, were they to see her there in her disheveled state, and Javana’s reputation would be destroyed.

   “No!  We can’t leave him here; you’ve hurt him….”  Javana dashed tears from her eyes as she tore away from his grip to crouch by Stefan’s side.

   Seisyll grabbed her by the waist, pulling her away from the unconscious knight.  “He’s bloody well lucky I haven’t killed him!  I should, but then I’d have to answer to Kelson for why, and I’d rather not have to mention my reasons.”  He glared at his sobbing sister.  “Don’t make me have to knock you out also.  I’ll carry you home tied over my saddlebags if I have to.”


   “He’ll offer for me, Seisyll; I know he will,” Javana repeated dully as they rode home to Tre-Arilan.  “He just can’t right now.”

   “Then he should have waited until he could court you openly and honorably,” Seisyll said, his voice tight with anger.  “Don’t forget, though, I’ve known Stefan a lot longer than you have, and I assure you it’s only dalliance he has in mind, not marriage.  You’re not a stupid chit, Javana; I can’t believe you fell for his lines!  Have I been negligent?  Do you need a husband so badly you’d risk your good name just to steal away for an hour or two with a man who’s charmed his way into so many women’s skirts that he can hardly keep count anymore?  Need I find you a husband, and soon, to preserve what’s left of your honor?”

   “It wasn’t like that!”  The tears flowed down Javana’s face.  “Yes, I know he’s hardly a monk.  Neither are you!  And he told me up front he can’t afford to wed yet.  But he loves me, Seisyll!  And no matter what you might think of him, he didn’t….”  She took a shuddery breath, swallowed down a sob.  “I was going to let him, but he wouldn’t…he said he would wait until he could do better by me….”  

   “Well, thank God for that small mercy,” Seisyll growled, “though he certainly didn’t stop to think that ‘doing better by you’ might need to include having more care for your honor!  Imagine if someone else had happened upon you two!  And what the hell do you mean, you were going to let him?!  Damn it all, Javana….”  He spurred his horse ahead of hers, red-faced with fury.

   Sextus, who had been lagging a little behind with Jashana to allow the quarreling siblings more privacy, now drew ahead until he was even with Javana.  For once, his expression was completely serious.  “Seisyll’s right, you know.  Stefan’s not ready to settle down yet, no matter what he might say.  He might even have believed what he told you at the moment, but trust me….”  He shook his head.  “Once he’s had time to think it through a bit more, using the head on his shoulders and not the one in his braies, I think he’ll see things differently.  I’m sorry, sister, but you deserve better.”

   Javana tossed her head, tears shimmering in her eyes.  “Sextus, it might come as a total shock to you, but not every male who’s reached the age of full manhood is a randy stews-skimming libertine and complete waste of air like you!”  She urged her mount ahead, not looking behind her to see the hurt look in her younger brother’s eyes.

   Jashana drew alongside him.  “Well, that could’ve gone a bit worse.  She might have gutted you with her belt dagger.”  She gave Sextus a sympathetic smile.  “Give her a few weeks.  I think she’ll see it for herself eventually, given enough time for the hurt and embarrassment to pass.  And who knows, we could be wrong about Sir Stefan.  If we are, I’m sure he’ll call on Tre-Arilan in due time, seeking to make amends, even if he can’t afford to wed her yet.   They could at least get betrothed, if he truly cares about her.  And if not….”  She sighed.  “Well, I hope he does.  Javana will be heartbroken if he doesn’t, and as for Seisyll….”  She shook her head.  “I’d not want to be in Sir Stefan’s shoes.  It’s a wonder Seisyll didn’t kill him outright!”


   August 12
   The Gold Lion Tavern, Rhemuth

   Sir Stefan took another swig of his ale, not really tasting it as it went down, for his mind was on other matters.  He took a book of wax tablets out of his pouch, reading his hastily scribbled missive yet again.  To my right worshipful Lady Javana, I pray you pardon my boldness in writing to you without leave.  For the wrong I have done to you, I am deeply sorry, yet for the love I bear you, I pray you will forgive me.  My passions were intemperate, yet if your brother will permit, I would make amends right gladly.  As I have said to you before, I am in no position yet to make an honorable offer for your hand, but it is with that end in mind that I shall endeavor to make right what I may, that you might be better minded to accept me at a more suitable time when I am free to offer for a wife.  

   He took another swallow of ale.  Jesú, that would never serve!  He sounded like a damn secretary, not like himself.  Javana would think he’d hired a clerk to tender his apologies!  Flipping to a clean leaf in the book of wax tablets, he tried again.  To my Lady Javana from Sir Stefan of Kestrel Mote.  I love you.  Please forgive me for losing my head and placing you in such a compromising position.  I wish I knew what I could do to make up for that….

   “Can you give me my innocence back?”  He could almost hear her saying it, those beautiful Arilan eyes flashing violet fire.  Stefan buried his face in one hand, gave up on the letter, and took another deep quaff of his ale.  A sudden thought hit him, and he straightened, reaching for the wax tablets and stylus once more.

   Unto Sir Seisyll Arilan from Sir Stefan de Varnay, greetings.  You know my present circumstances.  What you may not realize is that your sister Javana owns my heart.  If you would be willing to hold off giving her to anyone else until such time as I can offer her marriage, I would gladly make amends for my behavior with her.  It was too much love that made me careless of her honor, not too little.

   That might serve as a beginning.  Stefan stood, tossing a coin onto the table to pay for his ale.  He would need to finish the letter, of course, and then copy it over with paper and ink, but one of the mail couriers could have it on its way to Tre-Arilan by the next morning if he were quick about it.  Or should he deliver it in person?  No, considering the fury he'd seen in Seisyll's face before the darkness of unconsciousness swallowed him, he'd be throwing his life away to show up at Tre-Arilan uninvited.  Seisyll doubtless had issued orders to his entire household to skewer him on sight should he venture anywhere near their lands.  No, Stefan would make the first overture by letter, then see what sort of response he received before venturing anywhere near the Lady Javana again.

   Stefan considered the letter again.  He would need to add a line stating his intent to return to Kestrel Mote at the end of the week, of course, so that Seisyll’s reply might reach him there.  Or perhaps Javana’s.  He hoped she wasn’t too angry with him, that she’d write him back, though he winced anew at the position he’d put her in.  Why wouldn’t she be angry with him?  He was furious with himself for his stupidity.  She was a highborn maiden, after all, not some trollop one picks up at the city stews!

   Still caught up in his thoughts, he never noticed the man who left the tavern behind him, shadowing his steps just a short distance behind him all the way back to Rhemuth Castle.


   Stefan finally finished a letter he was satisfied with.  He copied it to paper, shaking a caster over the damp ink to blot up the excess so it would dry quickly, then folded it carefully, sealing it with hot wax and his ring inscribed with his personal arms.  That task completed, he scrawled the delivery instructions on the outside for the mail couriers and brought it downstairs to the small chamber near the Great Hall where mail was readied for delivery, entrusting it to a man wearing Haldane livery.

   As Stefan left the room, another man entered, bowing politely and stepping aside so that Stefan could pass through the doorway.  The second man shut the door behind him, pulling a sheaf of letters out of a pouch.  “Three letters to the Kheldish Riding, my good man,” he told the man in crimson and gold livery.

   “In this box, then, Sir Aylmer,” the Haldane retainer replied, opening the lid to a large coffer.  Sir Aylmer moved towards the box, but appeared to trip as he approached it, dropping his letters to the floor.

   “Oh, let me help you....”  The liveried man stooped to pick up a letter that had landed near his feet.  Swiftly, Aylmer reached across the table between them to pick up Stefan's letter and stuff it up his sleeve before retrieving the other two he had dropped.  The mail sorter straightened, handing Aylmer's lost letter back to him.

   “Thank you.”  Sir Aylmer stuffed his missives into the box bound for the Kheldish Riding, keeping Stefan's letter hidden for closer examination in the privacy of his own quarters later.

   “So, when do you return to Lord Walter's service?” the mail sorter asked.

   “End of week, I think.  My business is nearly done here.”

   “That's good, then. I'm sure he'll be glad to have you back.”

   Aylmer smiled.  “It will be nice to head back home again.”  He sketched a polite bow.  “A very good evening to you, m'lord.”


   September 1

   Lady Javana's heart leaped as the courier delivered a letter to her brother Seisyll.  She looked up from her needlework expectantly as he cracked open the seal, hoping the letter would be from Stefan.  His eyes perused the message's contents, then he stood.  “I'm needed back in Rhemuth.  I may not be back for a few days.”

   Javana's heart fell.  “It's from the King, then?”

   Seisyll glanced at his sister, belatedly realizing what she'd been hoping for.  “Yes, it's from Kelson.  Javana....”  He sighed.  “Stefan's not going to write, you know.”

   Her eyes dropped back down to her needlework, filling with tears.  “I suppose not.”

   Seisyll's heart nearly broke for his sister, despite his anger at Stefan.  “I wish....”  His hand absently crumpled the letter he still held.  “You deserve better, Javana, but if the man would only show the decency to offer for you properly, I would still allow you to wed him once he's able.  But...I very much doubt he will offer.  I'm sorry.”
   Javana simply nodded, unable to speak.  Seisyll sighed, leaving the room to make ready for his journey.  Perhaps while he was at Court, he could make a few discreet inquiries.  It was high time Javana was wed.   There was no use allowing her to pine away over a one-sided love that was never meant to be.  A good husband, one better suited for her, would soon take her mind off Stefan de Varney.


   September 15
   Kestrel Mote

   Sir Stefan stared northwestwards over the harvested field of his father's manor, in the general direction of Rhemuth and, somewhere west of that, Tre-Arilan.  There had been no reply to his letter.  He'd written once more since sending the one from Rhemuth, but then he'd crumpled it up.  No, she'd made her choice plainly enough, or perhaps Seisyll had.  In any case, he could hardly hope to have the maiden without her brother's consent.

   He glanced back at his home, at the garish purple curtains his new stepmother had purchased in his absence, the brilliant color almost blinding even at this distance and viewed through leaded glass windows.  Those thrice-bedamned draperies worth nearly a king's ransom, which could easily have been Javana's brideprice had the fortune that had paid for them belonged to him and not to Alienora.  His younger sister Sophie had privately started to refer to their father’s new wife as their stepmonster.  Disrespectful, perhaps, but Stefan was hardly minded to correct her.

   It was hopeless to think of bringing Javana home to this, an impoverished bride living under the roof of the impossible woman his father had wed in his desperation to keep Kestrel Mote solvent.  No, doubtless Seisyll was already making other plans for his beloved sister.  A better match that would ensure her lifelong security, a man who could make her far happier than he ever could.  Stefan could hardly begrudge her that.

   It hurt like hell to think of her, though, or of what might have been had he been freer to follow his heart.
   The sun began to sink beneath the horizon.  Stefan braced himself against the chill September evening breeze and slowly made his way back towards the manor house.

Part Three:
« Last Edit: February 03, 2011, 05:48:53 pm by Evie »
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

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Offline DesertRose

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Re: Possessed--Part Two
« Reply #1 on: January 28, 2011, 10:34:32 am »
Walter and his minions are awful.  I just used the phrase "heartless jerk" in another place, and I think it more than applies here.
"If having a soul means being able to feel love, loyalty, and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans."

James Herriot (James Alfred "Alfie" Wight), when a human client asked him if animals have souls.  (I don't remember in which book the story originally appeared.)

Offline AnnieUK

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Re: Possessed--Part Two
« Reply #2 on: January 28, 2011, 12:26:27 pm »
Poor Stefan :(  At least we know that *he* at least ends up settled, if not quite in the happy ever after way he might have been with Javana.

Offline Jerusha

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Re: Possessed--Part Two
« Reply #3 on: January 28, 2011, 12:33:01 pm »
This is a very gripping story.  I have several fates I'd like to wish for "Sir" Aylmer, but I can't decide which one is the worst.

And yes, although we know things work out alright for Stefan in the end, it just doesn't seem fair.
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

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Offline Evie

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Re: Possessed--Part Two
« Reply #4 on: January 28, 2011, 12:46:10 pm »
Fortunately for Stefan, although his eventual marriage to Lisette doesn't start out as a love match, by the end of Maidens of Mayhem it's clear they've developed a fondness for each other, and there's no reason to believe that the relationship won't continue to grow closer over the years.  This is the Middle Ages, after all, when marrying first and falling in love afterward was still considered to be more the norm than the exception.

Javana, of course, might not find Walter the sort of person she could grow to love....   :o

As for Sir Aylmer....heh.   Just keep reading.   :D
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Offline derynifanatic64

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Re: Possessed--Part Two
« Reply #5 on: January 28, 2011, 06:30:24 pm »
I don't think Walter is a man that any woman would want to fall in love with.  He and Aylmer deserve a good smackdown.
« Last Edit: January 29, 2011, 03:36:58 pm by derynifanatic64 »
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