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Author Topic: Possessed--Part Nineteen  (Read 6163 times)

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Offline Evie

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Possessed--Part Nineteen
« on: March 24, 2011, 09:04:36 am »
   Chapter Nineteen—Reconciliation

   The Bishop of Dhassa's study
   May 28, 1133


   Stefan exited the Bishop of Dhassa's study looking exhausted, but the haunted look that he had worn ever since he and Sextus had carried out their mission in the Kheldish Riding was finally gone, hopefully dispelled for good.  He smiled at Sextus.  “Your uncle says to give him just a moment longer; he'll come out for you directly.”

   Sextus nodded, settling back down on the bench he'd just risen from to await the summons.  Stefan joined him on the bench.  “He's been to visit Javana already,” Stefan said.

   Sextus turned to him in surprise.  “That was fast.”

   “Yes.  Right after Seisyll debriefed us, he contacted Denis.  Denis settled matters as much as he could here and then disappeared to the Riding for a few days.  He turned up at Caerdraig not very long after Walter's remains were discovered.”  Stefan gave a wry smile.  “He may have...ah...left a few members of the baronial household with the inaccurate impression that Javana had sent a message to him shortly after the baron went missing, begging him to visit so she could receive his comfort and advice.  In any case, no one questioned his unusually timely arrival.”

   “So, did Denis happen to mention if anyone he spoke to in Caerdraig suspects Walter's death was anything besides an accident?”

   Stefan looked uneasy.  “Well...about that.  When I mentioned Walter's remains being discovered...well, I didn't simply mean his body.  There was very little left of him to bring back up, actually, and what they managed to recover looked like....”  The older knight swallowed hard.  “Like he had been torn apart and devoured by some ravenous beast.”

   “Jesú.”  Sextus turned pale.  “Tell me Javana wasn't called upon to identify his body!”  He frowned, confused.  “Maybe something else fell into the pit before we threw Walter in.  A wolf, perhaps?”  The guess didn't ring true to Sextus, but he could think of no other rational explanation for what had happened.  Mine miasmas were lethal, yes, but poisoned air did not rend men into small bits.  “So, what are the people of Caerdraig saying about it?”

   The other knight shrugged.  “There are a lot of wild rumors right now, the Bishop said.  Some think perhaps a wolf fell in sometime earlier and was maddened by hunger, or that one got into the mine by means of a side shaft and got lost in its depths.  Others think that some carrion birds, smelling the scent of rotting flesh, flew into the shaft and ate most of the Baron before he was discovered.”  Stefan gave Sextus an ironic look.  “And several of the village folk think he might have been done in by the same 'Night Stalker' who used to prey on the area from time to time.  They don't realize that he was their 'Night Stalker,' of course.”

   The two men sat side by side in silence for a long while.  Finally Stefan smiled slightly.  “Do you know what feast day this is?”

   Sextus shook his head.  “No, I've lost track.”

   Stefan's grin grew.  “Bishop Arilan told me that today is the feast of Saint Stefan, the patron saint of wanderers.”

   Sextus laughed.  “Well, I suppose we'd best offer up a prayer of thanksgiving to your name saint, then, for safety during our wanderings!”

   “I may just do that; it certainly can't hurt.”  The door to the bishop's study opened, and both men stood.  Stefan glanced at the elder Arilan, then back at his companion.  “I'll be in the chapel down the corridor when you're ready to leave, Sextus.”

#

   “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.  It has been....”  Jesú, how long had it been?  Sextus thought back, finally remembering the last time he'd confessed his sins to a priest.  “Last April, I think, since my last confession.  Or whenever it was that Easter fell last year.”

   “Easter of last year?”  Denis shook his head.  “April tenth.  Over a year ago.”  Denis Arilan studied his wayward nephew with a suppressed sigh.  “Thank God you confessed then, considering how close you came to dying of the fever-flux just a short time later!”

   Sextus gave him a sheepish smile. 

   Denis leaned back in his chair, shaking his head sadly.  He shoved a small book across a table towards his nephew.  “Should I just have you open up this penitential and cross out the sins you haven't committed in the past year?  That might save us some time,” he said, his voice desert dry.  Sextus gave a startled bark of laughter at the unexpected joke, though he knew Denis's ironic humor was meant to underscore a more serious, if unspoken, reproof.

   Denis rubbed at his already aching temples.  “I'll hear your full confession, of course, Sextus.  But first, why don't we start with your account of what happened in Caerdraig last week?”

#

   “What do you think it was, that evil presence that flew over us that night?” Sextus asked as he wound up his story. 

   Denis frowned thoughtfully, his mind dovetailing the events Sextus had just shared with him with the account he had already heard from Stefan, weighing both against what Javana had shared with him during his brief visit to Caerdraig.  He strongly suspected that the dark entity Stefan and Sextus had both witnessed the night of Walter's death had been the succubus that Javana had told him about, summoned up from whatever unholy realms Walter had conjured it up from in order to wreak his vengeance on Sir Aylmer.  But he could hardly go into that much detail in his reply to Sextus without violating the seal of the confessional, for he had been acting in his priestly office when Javana had confided that secret to him, so he deliberately answered in vague, general terms.  “I think it's safe to say it was some minion of evil, possibly something Walter conjured up at some point in the past, if he was given to dabbling in the dark arts.  Without formal training, there's no telling where Walter's spellcasting might have gone wrong, but if he was venturing into magics beyond his level of understanding—and especially the darker ars magica—there's little wonder something came back to bite him on the arse.”  Denis grimaced at the inadvertent pun.  “So to speak.  At any rate, it would probably be for the best for me to pay another visit up there soon.  That—thing needs to be properly bound and the area spiritually cleansed.  The sooner, the better.”

   “Well, that's your area of expertise, not mine, thank God,” Sextus replied.  “Unless you need to bring along some other Deryni as back-up to draw energies from, I'd just as soon never return to Caerdraig.”

   Denis nodded.  “Quite understandable.  I think you'll find your sister feels likewise.  And no, I think it would be best if I called on other resources for this one, though I may pay Bishop Duncan and Father Nivard a call soon.  And perhaps I should consult with the Patriarch of Beldour; the clergy in Torenth have a fair bit more experience in this level of exorcism ritual.  Their Deryni clergy do, at any rate.”  He frowned.  “Though I probably ought to run that idea past the King and Archbishop Cardiel first.  The fourth quarter wouldn't necessarily require a Deryni priest, though that certainly would help.”

   Sextus was silent a long moment.  “When does Javana hope to return home?” he finally asked.

   Denis sighed, pondering how much to answer and what to leave for Javana to explain.  After a short while, he decided just to give his nephew a brief summation of what he and his niece had discussed at much greater length before his return to Dhassa.  This particular conversation, after all, had been between niece and uncle, not between penitent and priest.  “It’s going to be quite some time before she’s ready to return to Tre-Arilan for anything more than brief visits, I think.   Javana needs time to heal and to take stock of her situation.  And she requires more privacy than Tre-Arilan can offer her.”

   Sextus looked indignant.  “She’s surely not thinking of remaining at Caerdraig, with all the bad memories that place must have for her?!”

   His uncle shook his head.  “No.  Countess Celsie has a home for women in Derry—it’s not a convent, although there is a convent close by that works closely with it.  It’s more like a hostel where women who have survived traumatic experiences can find healing, learn skills to help them make their way in life or teach such skills to other women, and consider their future options.  Some end up taking the veil; others return to the world once they feel better equipped to face it again.  Sophie could give you more of the particulars; you might recall that she and the Countess have a close friendship.”

   “Oh.”  Sextus considered this unforeseen option.  “I suppose that would be all right, though surely she knows we’d be glad to take care of her at home?”

   “And that’s the problem,” Denis said, though his smile was sympathetic.  “She doesn’t want to be ‘taken care of,’ cosseted and pitied and constantly treated like a fragile thing that might break if handled.  Javana wants more than to simply get through this; she wants to recover her life.  She wants the chance to grow, and she needs the freedom to learn who she is now, with Walter gone.  Not as Jamyl’s daughter, not as my niece, not as Walter’s widow or as Seisyll’s sister and ward.  She needs to find out who Javana Arilan is, and what sort of life she wants to rebuild for herself, before she can move on.”

   Sextus frowned thoughtfully.  “What options does she have, though, in the long run?  Unless that home in Derry will allow her to stay there indefinitely, she’ll eventually have to make some sort of a choice.  If she doesn't want to return home, and she no longer has a home in Caerdraig, then how will she support herself?  Will she keep Walter’s Rhemuth apartments, and if so, will her dower be sufficient to maintain her?  I can’t really imagine Javana entering holy orders, can you?”

   Denis sighed.  “No.  Nor can I imagine her remarrying—at least certainly not anytime soon.  You’re right, Sextus; it’s a man’s world, and it’s hard for a woman without a husband to make her own place in it.  But she’s not the girl she once was, and she’d not be happy returning to Tre-Arilan under her brother’s guardianship again, like some maiden barely come into young womanhood.  I have my own concerns for her, and I assure you that Seisyll won’t be any more comfortable with her decision than you are.  But she’s a grown woman and a widow now, not a child, and in the end it’s her choice to make.  She’s had precious few choices allowed her in the past seven years, thanks to Baron Walter’s controls on her.  The least those of us who love her can do to help her heal is to allow her the freedom to make her own choices.”  Denis smiled.  “Besides, marriage or religious vows aren’t the only options available to women; they’re simply the most commonly chosen ones.  Javana may well decide to teach at St. Camber’s Schola someday.  That option came up also.”

#

   Sextus finished making his confession.  The sun had fallen low in the sky by the time he finished, though not quite so low as Denis had feared it might when his nephew first entered the study intent on baring his soul.  Denis stood by the window, staring out at the setting sun, trying to decide on penances that would serve both justice and mercy.  He couldn't simply absolve the lad without some sort of penance, for the taking of a human life was always a serious matter, a stain on one's soul, no matter what the circumstances.  Yet those circumstances, in this particular instance, had been extenuating indeed.  And there was the corrective effect of penance to be considered as well.  Some priests simply used it in punitive ways, but that was not the original intent.  No, a conscientious priest, like a conscientious healer, ought to find some way to balance out a man's sins and moral weaknesses with such penances as might assist the penitent in recovering from his less healthy inclinations, bringing that soul back into harmony with God, even as a physician sought to bring health and harmony to a man's body by remedies meant to restore his balance of humors.

   The bishop mused, flipping through the penitential book at one point as he thought, then made his decision.  “For your part in Walter's...execution, forty days of fasting ought to suffice, I think.”

   Sextus looked shocked.  “So few?”

   “You were in Caerdraig at the King's request and command, were you not?” 

   His nephew nodded uncertainly. 

   Denis flipped open the book he held, pointing to a particular line.  “Read this.”

   Sextus peered at the page, reading the line aloud.  “If one kills a man in public warfare or of necessity because he has to defend his lord's property, he is to fast forty days."  He glanced back up.  “But we weren't at war!”

   “No, but you were there at your lord's—Kelson's—command, and you were 'defending his property,' Sextus.  The Kingdom of Gwynedd is your rightful lord's property, one which he has sworn to defend, and one which you are also sworn to defend as his liegeman.  Walter became a threat not simply to the lives of the King's populace, but to the stability of the entire Kingdom, and due to the nature of that threat, Kelson could not afford to deal with it by more public means.  So Walter's death, though it was regrettable Kelson had to order it, became a necessity.”  Denis raised an eyebrow at his nephew.  “Are you complaining that your penance is too light?”

   Sextus shook his head hastily.  “No!”

   Denis suppressed a chuckle.  “Good.  Because I'm not done yet.”  He put the book back down.  “I could prescribe the standard penances for wenching and drunkenness, but they'd do you little good; you'd simply 'forget' to observe them after a month's time, finding them too onerous, and then you'd have to confess that in due course.  No, I think this time I'll try something different.”  Denis gave his nephew a wry smile.  “You will atone for your sins in those areas of weakness by giving alms once per quarter to two worthy institutions—the House of the Magdalenes in Lendour, and the Infirmary at St. Bernard's Abbey.  One sovereign to each per quarter should suffice, at the beginning of the season, if that's when you get paid.”

   Sextus's eyes widened.  “Two sovereigns?  Where in the hell am I supposed to come up with that amount of coin?”

   Denis's smile grew.  “I'm of the impression that Seisyll allows you twenty-two marks per quarter for personal expenses, is that correct?”

   His younger nephew nodded warily.

   The smile became a grin.  “Well then, two sovereigns should be well within your means, being a little less than half of that.  You'll still have some coin left over for your personal needs, though I'm afraid you'll have very little left over for wenching and overindulging in strong drink.  Perhaps that will help you amend your ways.”

   Sextus looked stunned.  “Why those two institutions?” he finally asked.

   “Oh, two reasons.  The first is that, if that choice were up to you, you'd likely just end up designating the Green Barrel or some other dive as your 'almshouse' of choice, so I'm taking away that temptation from the very start.  But the other reason is that those two houses are tied in with the original reasons for your penance.  The House of the Magdalenes restores former prostitutes to a better way of life, teaching them skills that will allow those women to find honest livelihoods.  And as for the Infirmary at St. Bernard's Abbey, many of their patients are health-wrecked and destitute due to an over-fondness for strong drink.  Perhaps your frequent contributions of alms there will make you more mindful of your likelihood of needing their services some day, if you don't learn to moderate your intake.”  Denis steepled his fingertips, tapping them lightly against his lips.  “Now, was there any other category of sin I left out?”

   “No!” Sextus said hastily, rising and moving towards the door in hopes nothing else would come to his uncle's mind.  “I'm sure that covers everything.”

   “Ah yes, one more thing.”  Denis's grin grew positively angelic.  “You do recall, do you not, that you are required to receive the Sacrament of Penance at least once yearly?”

   Sextus looked at his bishop-uncle warily.  “Yes.  I'm here, aren't I?”

   “Yes, you are.  A bit late, but you are here, which gives me hope.”  Denis walked over to his nephew, clasping one hand on each of Sextus's shoulders, his earlier levity now chased away by a more serious expression.  “Sextus, of all my family, you give me the most concern.  First, there was your near-death from the fever-flux, not to mention the various missions you've been sent on over the years—many of them dangerous—with no guarantee you'll return from them alive.  Quite frankly, it frightens me to think of you going a full year between confessions, given how regularly you find yourself in harm's way.  So here is the rest of your penance.  You will make your confessions more regularly—once per month ought to suffice, if you can't bring yourself to do so weekly.  They needn't be made to me, if you'd prefer to confess to Father Anselmus or one of the priests in Rhemuth, but you should find a regular confessor—one who knows you and your weaknesses—and stick with him.  You are to continue this over the next year at the very least.”

   Sextus stared at him.  “A whole year of monthly confessions?”

   “Yes, Sextus.”

   Sextus stared down at his feet.  “And after that?”

   Denis snorted.  “That's up to you.  Hopefully you'll have developed enough of a habit by then, you'll at least start receiving the sacraments more regularly.  'Last April, or whenever Easter was last year'?....Jesú, lad, you'll be the death of me yet!”  The bishop rolled his eyes.  “Go on, Sextus; Sir Stefan probably thinks we've killed each other by now.”

#

   August 20, 1133
   Tre-Arilan


   Javana Arilan sat in the solar at Tre-Arilan for the first time in several years, assisting her sister in making preparations for their youngest nephew's christening feast in two days' time.  John Denis Arilan, already becoming shortened by his family to Jack, had been born a few days earlier on the fifteenth, but his birth had been quite arduous for his mother, nearly resulting in her death, so Sophie was hardly up to preparing the manor for the influx of guests who would be arriving to celebrate the arrival of a newborn Arilan.  Javana, upon receiving the news of Sophie's difficult labor and close escape, had offered to return to her childhood home for a few days in order to help Jashana get the manor readied for the arriving well-wishers.

   Even now, with Walter dead and several months of being left at peace to start her life anew, Javana was a little ill at ease in her family's presence, and she sensed they were feeling equally awkward about what to say and do around her as well.  It would have been far easier to have sent her well-wishes and a birth present from afar, remaining in the comforting environs of the St. Nicholas Sanctuary for Women and Orphans (her current home's more formal name, although its residents more jocularly referred to it as Countess Celsie's Home for Wayward Strays), but she was first and foremost an Arilan, so she was here in their midst this week, both to welcome another member of the next generation of Arilans and to do her duty by her family.

   Jashana entered the room, carrying a basket full of linen.  “I've set the staff to scouring and polishing downstairs, but I figured we could check these linens and select the best ones for the tables in the Great Hall.  They've been freshly laundered and just came in off the line, so I'm fairly sure they're free of any stains or candle wax, but it's best if we check them now rather than waiting until the morning of the feast and then discovering the laundress missed some spots.”

   “Good idea,” Javana said, rising to pull one end of a table linen out of the basket for their inspection.  She glanced up at her younger sister with a faint smile.  “I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice for this sort of thing, though, so you might want to double-check the cloths in case I miss anything.”  A shadow filled her eyes.  “Walter mainly expected me to sit around my bower looking ornamental.”

   Jashana nodded, giving her sister a sympathetic smile, though carefully trying not to show any trace of pity.  “I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice as well.”

   Javana gave a short laugh.  “Oh, that's right; you've doubtless got quite a large household to manage such things at your new home in Llyr.”

   “Oh no, it's not that, exactly.”  Jashana grinned.  “Mihall's Court rarely sets up our Great Hall with tables.  Not Gwyneddan style tables, at any rate.  We sit on cushions on the floor.” 

   “You eat off the floor?!”

   Jashana laughed at her sister's incredulous stare.  “Oh, we do have tables, they're just very low ones.  It's really much nicer than it sounds.”  She shared a mental picture of her new husband's Court with Javana.  “Hopefully you'll visit me there someday,” she offered a little shyly, still unsure of what to say around the sister that life and circumstances had estranged her from for so long.

   “Perhaps someday,” Javana murmured noncommittally.

   They inspected the rest of the cloths in silence until they got to the last one, selecting the best ones for use during the christening feast and returning the others to the basket to be stored for everyday use.  “How are you settling in at the Sanctuary?” Jashana asked finally.

   Javana smiled.  “It was a bit strange at first, but I rather like it now.  The house rules are a bit strict, but not onerous; the order and discipline reminds me a bit of my days in Andelon, actually.”  Javana laughed slightly, waggling a hand.  “Without all the tutors, the magical training, that annoying chaperone with the waddle and the wheezy breath...all right, maybe it's not exactly like Andelon....”

   Jashana grinned.  “Do you think you'll remain there for a while longer, or are you hoping for a brief stay?”

   “I don't know yet.”  Javana's amusement faded.  “It's too soon for me to come back here, though; I do know that much.  I don't mind visiting Tre-Arilan, but I can't stay.”

   Jashana nodded in understanding.  “I love Seisyll and Sophie, but it's their home now.”

   “Yes.”

   The younger sister studied the elder for a long moment, wondering if it was too soon to broach the topic that was on her mind.  Javana, after a moment, raised an eyebrow at her.

   “What is it?”

   Jashana glanced out the window, biting her lip.  “Have you considered, once you're feeling like re-entering the world again, going to Rhemuth to the Schola of St. Camber?  I've heard they need more teachers.  Bishop Duncan asked Sophie to consider volunteering her time as she's able, but she won't be able to make much of a commitment to that until baby Jack is a bit older.”

   Javana stared out the window.  “I've given it a little thought, yes.  I may, someday.”  She bit her lip.  “Is it true that Walter's daughter is a student there?”

   Jashana paused, wondering who had told her sister about Walter's by-blow child.  “Yes,” she answered after a long moment.  “Her name is Cass.  She's eleven years old, or perhaps twelve by now.”  She bit her lip, wondering what Javana was thinking, for her sister was too tightly shielded, her expression too guarded, for Jashana to get a good read on her emotions.  “She's really quite unlike him, though, aside from having his coloring.  And being Deryni, of course.”

   Javana nodded.  “That's good,” she said.  She continued to stare out the window.  “I realize her parentage is not her fault.  Still, I think I'll remain at the Sanctuary for the time being.  I...don't think I could bear to be at the same Schola with Walter's child.  The memories of him are still far too fresh.”

   “I know,” Jashana whispered, taking her sister's hand.  “Time heals, though.  At least it did for me.”

   Javana stood statue-still in the window a moment longer, then turned, accepting the comfort of her younger sister's embrace.

#

   November 3, 1134
   Caisleán Shiele, the Isle of Llyr


   Javana Arilan, eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy with health more than a year after her safe deliverance from her late husband's castle at Caerdraig, gave thanks to God for the safe deliverance of her sister through childbirth on All Saint's Day two days before.  She sat at Jashana's bedside, cradling the new Banoidhre of Llyr in her arms.

   “What do you plan to name her?” Javana asked.  She smiled as her sister gave her husband the High Lord a tender glance, no longer bitter over her younger sister's happiness and good fortune, for her own heart—though still quite bruised—was well on its way to mending.

   “Eibhlin,” Jashana added, stroking the baby's dark hair.  “Eibhlin Alix Catriona, for both our mothers and Mihall's sister.”  She glanced up at her husband with a grin.  “We're naming the next one after an Arilan, though.  After all that work, I quite insist.”

   Mihall chuckled, bending to kiss his wife.  “You can name the next one anything you like, love, especially since the prospect of a next child means you'll let me in your bed again someday.  I had begun to worry when you started pitching the crockery at me.”

   Jashana laughed.  “It was just one tankard, and I was in pain!”

   “Ah.  And does that also explain those words of wifely affection, 'You touch me one more time, you bastard, and I'm tying a knot in it'?”  Mihall's clear green eyes grinned down at his sister-in-law, who exploded in laughter.

   “Tell me she didn't really say that!”

   “Oh, she did!  And just as I was about to block the pains for her, too.”  He winked at his wife.  “Ungrateful wench.”

   “Well, you didn't tell me that's what you were up to!”

   “Yes, I did!”

   “You did?  Well, I was a little bit occupied at the time....”

   Javana smiled to herself as the couple continued with their feigned bickering, gazing down at her newborn niece.  “Welcome to the family, Eibhlin,” she whispered.  “We're not exactly the normal sort, but you'll have no shortage of love.”

   Love and children.  Javana had wanted such things once—might want them again someday, though the thought of sharing her life with a man again was still unthinkable to her, fond of her brothers and her brother-in-law though she was—but for now she was reasonably content.  Some days, like today, she was even happy.  It would suffice.  Perhaps, someday in the unforeseeable future, she would be ready for more, but for now she was taking life one day at a time.

   It was not so bad, dealing with life in this way.  She was relearning life's joys, and as for its pains, they were much less overwhelming now.  Each new step led to another.

   The baby awakened, crying for her mother.  Javana handed the infant back to Jashana and rose, bending to kiss her sister's brow.  “I need to get back.  I told Countess Celsie I'd return to the Sanctuary in time to teach the new arrivals some basic stitchery.”  At Jashana's confused look, she added, “They're street urchins, twelve-year-old twin girls she found begging for food.  I'm teaching them how to sew so they can earn their keep as sempstresses.”  She grinned.  “And Celsie is teaching me some of her Deryni cording lore in her spare time.  Not that she has much of that, lately, between spending time at the Sanctuary, being Derry's Countess, making occasional runs to Chervignon, and raising that imp Seamus and her three daughters.”

   “Wait....”  Mihall, looking puzzled, counted back the years in his head.  “Didn't the Earl and Countess Derry marry just a short while back?  I thought your Earl of Derry married not too long after my sister did.”

   “Yes.  Derry and Countess Celsie have been married five years.”

   The High Lord's lips twitched.  “And Derry has a son and three daughters already?”

   Javana rolled her eyes expressively at her sister.  “And they're hoping for a second son eventually.”

   Mihall grinned down at his wife's warning expression.  “Chuisle, no need to give me that look.  If I give you four children in five years, I'll tie that knot myself!”

   “If you give me four children in five years, heart, I'll tie a second knot around your neck!  I may be my mother's daughter, but I don't intend to breed every time you get the itch to toss your braies over the bedpost.”

   Javana laughed, offered her sister and brother-in-law a brief farewell, and slipped out, returning to the safe-haven she now considered her home.

###




"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

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

Offline Elkhound

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #1 on: March 24, 2011, 11:50:56 am »
A nice conclusion.  Thank you.

Offline Jerusha

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #2 on: March 24, 2011, 12:24:42 pm »
As happy an ending as it could be, under the circumstances.  Javana has a lot to recover from.

I hope we get to see her again.
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 AnnieUK

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #3 on: March 24, 2011, 12:29:47 pm »
LOL @ Sextus's relaxed approach to confession.  Yeah, last year sometime *waves hand airily* when was Easter again?  :D :D

Offline Evie

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #4 on: March 24, 2011, 02:10:13 pm »
Thank you all for following along!  There were times when I was convinced this was the story that would never end...every time I thought I was about halfway through my story outline (such as it was), I'd find planned "chapters" ended up taking more like two or even three chapters to tell that part of the story.  And characters kept throwing twists in that I didn't expect (not to mention I had an entire Transfer Portal that suddenly changed locations on me), which meant having to do some backtracking at times and retrofitting earlier scenes to fit the newer bits.  There was a reason I wrote at least half the story, if not more, before I started posting chapters to the forum!

It's quite possible you'll see Javana again, since Arilans have a way of popping into my stories ever since Sophie married into that family, and I've got a Sextus Arilan story in the works at the moment, so it's possible she'll get a mention a little later on in that one.  At least at this point in the planning stages, I expect an upcoming scene or two to at least bring him in close enough proximity with his big sister to make a visit probable....
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

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Offline derynifanatic64

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #5 on: March 24, 2011, 06:16:15 pm »
That was a great story!  Let's hope that Sextus changes his wayward habits--Well, who knows.  That succubus better be good at running, because no one should ever get on the bad side of Denis Arilan.  When Denis catches up with her, no pity and no mercy will come her way.
We will never forget the events of 9-11!!  USA!! USA!!

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #6 on: March 24, 2011, 06:51:27 pm »
That was a great story!  Let's hope that Sextus changes his wayward habits--Well, who knows. 

LOL!!! I've got you hoping that he does and Annie fervently hoping that he doesn't for fear he'll become "settled and boring."  That's a no-win scenario for me, I'm afraid. How am I ever going to manage reining him in enough to merit even Denis's grudging approval, yet keep him enough of a 'bad boy' to please his fanbabes?  *sigh*  All the more reason to chicken out and give y'all the Stavenham story first!  (Well, that and it's finished already....)  ;D
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
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Offline derynifanatic64

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #7 on: March 24, 2011, 07:31:41 pm »
That was a great story!  Let's hope that Sextus changes his wayward habits--Well, who knows.  

LOL!!! I've got you hoping that he does and Annie fervently hoping that he doesn't for fear he'll become "settled and boring."  That's a no-win scenario for me, I'm afraid. How am I ever going to manage reining him in enough to merit even Denis's grudging approval, yet keep him enough of a 'bad boy' to please his fanbabes?  *sigh*  All the more reason to chicken out and give y'all the Stavenham story first!  (Well, that and it's finished already....)  ;D
This is a very rare time that I agree with Denis Arilan--And this is very scary thing for me.
We will never forget the events of 9-11!!  USA!! USA!!

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #8 on: March 25, 2011, 12:08:41 am »
Excellent story, and I'm glad Javana has found a place where she can slowly recover and learn to be herself again.

Interesting idea about Denis's cleansing of the Caerdraig area, especially the potential for involvement of the Torenthi clergy - nice to think the years since KKB may have brought some real co-operation and sharing between Gwynedd and Torenth.

I fear however, that the Bishop of Dhassa is not going to have very much success in 'reforming' his nephew  ;)   And somehow I cannot ever see a "married and settled" Sextus ever becoming 'boring'.   That is, if he ever actually reaches the state of being 'settled'!

Offline Elkhound

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #9 on: March 30, 2011, 12:52:35 pm »
I fear however, that the Bishop of Dhassa is not going to have very much success in 'reforming' his nephew  ;)   And somehow I cannot ever see a "married and settled" Sextus ever becoming 'boring'.   That is, if he ever actually reaches the state of being 'settled'!

I picture him ending up with a big, red-headed Amazon who is more than capable of going upside his head with a blunt instrument if necessary to keep him in line.  (I nearly wrote 'skillet' or 'rolling pin', but those are the husband-tamers of the working/peasant classes.  What would a woman of the gentry use?  A pewter candleholder?  A fireplace poker?  A walking-stick?)

Offline Evie

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #10 on: March 30, 2011, 05:32:31 pm »
LOL!  Well, there are lots of other ways to smack a man upside the head too, don't forget.  There's wit, charm, and all sorts of other weapons far more deadly than the iron skillet.   ;)
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Offline Elkhound

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #11 on: March 31, 2011, 10:47:04 am »
LOL!  Well, there are lots of other ways to smack a man upside the head too, don't forget.  There's wit, charm, and all sorts of other weapons far more deadly than the iron skillet.   ;)

Some guys have very thick skulls.

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #12 on: March 31, 2011, 11:57:24 am »
Agreed. In which case, rather than attacking them where they're armor-plated, sometimes the best approach is to go for their heart instead.   :D
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
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Offline Elkhound

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #13 on: March 31, 2011, 03:04:47 pm »
Sorry, I'm not going to give up my red-headed Amazon fantasy.  I'm thinking a young Maureen O'Hara.

Offline Evie

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Re: Possessed--Part Nineteen
« Reply #14 on: March 31, 2011, 03:55:25 pm »
Sextus tells me he has absolutely no objections to meeting a young Maureen O'Hara....   ;D
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
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