Pawns and Queens--A 15th Century Gwynedd Story--Chapter Sixteen

[Evie]

Previous chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3228.0.html


Chapter Sixteen

March 10, 1464
Early Evening
Somewhere in Nördmarcke

Sebastian Arilan and the Banfhlaith Saoirse, wearing her customary male guise as Cillian of Llyr, cautiously made their way to the crest of the low hill, using their Deryni powers to enhance their ability to move with the greatest of stealth, for they were scouting well within enemy territory. Normally at his level of training as one of his father's intelligencers, Sebastian would not have been permitted to venture this far across the border into Nördmarcke just yet, at least not the entire way on foot, even though his command of the Torenthi tongue was good enough that he might be able to pass himself off as a local if he had a brief enough encounter with one. But there were others better suited for a mission that ventured this many miles within the enemy kingdom's borders than Sebastian.

However, on the advent of wartime, Lord Geoffrey could not afford to be as picky about who he selected to gather the information Prince Nicholas would need to guide his battle planning, for most of his other agents had already been sent to various other locations far afield, and the King's Chief Intelligencer happened to know of a portal location nearly a hundred miles inside Nördmarcke which would place a careful Deryni scout in a good position to perhaps get a quick look at King Torval's levies' last known whereabouts before making an equally quick return to Gwynedd to report back to the Prince.

It was nearly dusk now, the growing shadows aiding in concealment. Sebastian and Saoirse, now reaching the top of the hill, lay in the tall grass to peer at the bustle of activity in the distance beyond.

They had sporadically heard the sound of shrill squeaking, a repeated sound that had carried through the distance from the valley beyond the hill country where they were currently scouting, and had wondered what was happening on the other side of the concealing hills. Now they could see what appeared to be a lot of laborers walking back and forth between various sets of paired posts, appearing to string them together repeatedly. Saoirse pulled out her spyglass for a closer view while Sebastian kept an attentive eye on their surroundings, ready to warn his scouting partner if it appeared someone was approaching their hidden position.

Oh, wait.... As she watched, someone started to turn what appeared to be a crank attached to one of the paired sets of poles, and shortly thereafter, the same activity began with each of the other devices.  The squeaking sounds resumed.

She handed Sebastian the spyglass. Rope making?

He took it, peering down at the activity in the distance. It does appear to be that. But that's a lot of rope they're working on. Maybe it's for rigging? I'm sure Torval has been working on replacing his lost fleet.

No, the lengths of rope are too short to use for rigging, I'm certain.

If anyone would know, Sebastian thought, it would be Saoirse, being from an island kingdom where shipbuilding was a primary trade. But why this sudden industry to produce mass quantities of short lengths of rope? Then maybe they're guy lines for war pavilions?

Maybe. Saoirse didn't seem convinced, and truth be told, he wasn't either.

They continued watching as each rope was completed, the ends tied off and cut off the rope walks, then neatly coiled and added to a quickly growing stack on a cart. Maybe we can follow to see where they are taking it, and see what they are up to. That looks more like a regular hand cart than anything designed to go a great distance, Sebastian observed.

I agree. My guess is that it's going to their war camp, so we won't want to venture too close, but it's unusual enough that Lord Geoffrey would probably be interested in any additional information we might be able to find before we head back to report to him.

#

March 10, 1464
Late Evening
Somewhere in Nördmarcke

King Haakon of Eistenmarcke and Prince Rémy of Joux took a walk together around the perimeter of the ritual ground where the next evening's festivities were to be held.

Rémy found himself amused by and grudgingly admiring of the boy king, whom he had quickly recognized as a kindred spirit despite the difficulties they shared in bridging the language gap, since neither could speak the other's language, but both spoke just enough Torenthi to manage to communicate via a combination of broken Torenthi, hand gestures, and the occasional shared thought directly mind-to-mind on Rémy's part. Haakon did not know how to initiate Mind-Speech, but he had no difficulty with receiving it, and could even conjure up occasional images that Rémy could Read from his mind. His father was right; the boy could become a strong ally once he got old enough to shake off his interfering mother and rule in his own stead. Or better yet, with Renier's or at least Rémy's guidance and strong influence. So Rémy was doing his best to cultivate the boy's friendship.

"Tomorrow is the blót," Haakon was saying. "Tomorrow your sister marry."

"I thought my sister was already married to you," Rémy said. "I witnessed her wedding in Joux."

"Ja. But tomorrow, I...."  Haakon, lost for the right word, made a crude gesture that Rémy understood without the need for translation. He laughed.

"Yes, have fun with that. I look forward to seeing you drag her off her high horse and bring her down a few pegs. She's been acting like I'm dung stuck to her shoe ever since she discovered she was becoming a Queen, but the way you Eistenmarckers do wedding celebrations should put her back in her place."

Haakon stared at him with the expression that usually signified that the rapid flow of Torenthi words had utterly lost him.

Rémy tried again. "You...." He pointed to Haakon. "Have lots of fun...." He repeated the gesture that Haakon had just used. "With your new bride tomorrow." He smiled. "After all, Torval has certainly been enjoying her."

It was more of a guess than certain knowledge, but Rémy had not failed to note the way his sister looked starry-eyed around the Nördmarcker King, nor the protective way Torval treated his sister. At any rate, truth or lie, the comment had served its purpose. Rémy smiled inwardly with satisfaction at the way Haakon's eyes narrowed with suspicion as he glanced back towards the large pavilion at the center of their war camp.

Haakon glanced back at Rémy. "After she man me, she die. You not angry if I dead her?"

Well, that was a lot more of an escalation than Rémy had quite counted on, but he could think of no reason to object, especially if he might get to watch. After all, she had already fulfilled her purpose as far as Joux was concerned. "Nothing would please me more, my friend."

#

March 11, 1464
The Spring Equinox
Early Evening
Somewhere in Nördmarcke

Sebastian and Saoirse spent the night next to the portal, which was in the ruined shell of an old manor house which had been long since abandoned and exposed to the elements after being mostly destroyed by fire, yet enough of the original structure remained intact enough to offer them a little shelter and protection from the elements and from enemy eyes. The building was in enough disrepair to make it unlikely that any of the enemy would select it as a desirable camping spot, nor would it have been the two Gwyneddan scouts' preferred sort of location to use if their need hadn't been extreme, since what was left of the roof appeared to be in danger of falling in on them at any moment. But this deep in enemy territory, they wished to remain where they could make a very quick getaway if need be, and with their sleeping rolls concealed under a camouflaging ward, it was safe enough for their purpose.

Despite that precaution, they took shifts sleeping, each waking the other once two or three hours had passed, each taking two sleeping shifts apiece through the darkest hours after the enemy activity had finally ceased for the night. Nor did they dare to venture out to spy on the laborers again during the bright hours of the following day, but they observed what was happening beyond the hill nonetheless, for before returning to their shelter the previous evening, Sebastian had left a specially attuned crystal near where they had lain spying down upon the rope walks, wedged between the trunk and branch of a tree which stood at the top of the hill in such a way that someone perched in a position where they could peer through it would be able to see the activities below.

Once daylight came and the odd squeaking noises from the rope making jigs resumed, Saoirse cautiously dispersed the camouflaging ward while Sebastian unwrapped an apple-sized crystal sphere that was the companion to the much smaller, cherry-sized crystal concealed in the tree.

Saoirse kept a wary watch on their surroundings while Sebastian sank into a light trance, focusing his gaze on the crystal before him. After a few moments, an image of the nearby activities began to form in the crystal, shown from the viewpoint of the crystal lodged in the tree. Again, for the first several hours nothing seemed to have changed, to the point that the two watchers had exchanged places several times over. Just as it appeared that they would simply be watching yet another day of what they had witnessed the previous evening, the activity stopped, with the last lengths of ropes being tied off, cut, coiled, and loaded into the cart and the rope making equipment disassembled and loaded into a nearby wagon.

The sun was still too high in the sky for them to safely follow when at last the wagon and hand cart left the valley along with the last of the laborers, but the crystal in the tree had a higher vantage point than where the two young Deryni had lain hidden in the tall grass the evening before, and Sebastian could see that a trail from the valley wound through a small copse of distant trees that provided only a thin barrier between that visible valley and something just a little further distant, hidden from clear view. He could not tell if it was the main war camp or something else, but it was apparent that at least some of the enemy were just beyond those trees, for he could see plumes of smoke arising here and there beyond the tree cover and the occasional sounds of voices when the breeze shifted in the right direction. They were far too close for comfort, yet also too close for Sebastian and Saoirse to come this far and not attempt to get an even closer view before returning to the relative safety of their current home base across the border.

The two waited for nightfall, biding their time by portioning out a ration of their cold travelers' fare, for they did not dare to light a fire to cook or for warmth, but simply huddled together under a Llyrian blanket with a magical weave designed to conserve body warmth more efficiently while making them more difficult to spot in the shadows of their shelter. At last it grew dark enough for them to venture cautiously out of the ruined manor and back to the hilltop, Sebastian carefully sensing for signs of nearby life before retrieving his small crystal from the tree and storing it back in his pouch.

Beyond the narrow treeline below, they could see the glow of campfires and another larger glow over to the west of the encampment. They also heard a new sound–the steady beat of drums, accompanied by some sort of rhythmic chanting.

Glancing at each other, they began making their way towards the source of this new sound, slipping as quietly as they could through the grass and sparse tree cover they found themselves in once they approached closer. The drums and chanting were quite loud now, helping to conceal any sounds the two scouts made as they tried to find a vantage point that would allow them to see more clearly.

I don't like the sound of this at all, Saoirse observed, restricting herself to Mind-Speech, since even with the loud din emanating from the war camp, the night air had a way of carrying sounds in strange ways, so the last thing she wanted to do was alert some wary sentry of their presence by speaking aloud. Most of my knowledge of Nördmarcke and its wartime traditions is theoretical, since I've never fought in any conflicts on this front, but I don't recall reading about this sort of war chant or ritual in this part of the Old Torenthi realm. This has more of an Eistenmarcker feel to me. I like it not.

I agree, Sebastian replied. I imagine it's quite possible King Torval has hired some Eistenmarcker mercs. They are his close neighbors, after all. Though Eistenmarckers don't normally go for alliances with other Kingdoms, or at least the ones most likely to carry on the older traditions don't. And this definitely feels...older. The hair rose on the back of his neck as they felt the buildup of energies that bespoke a form of ancient magic just as old as their own Deryni arcane workings, or possibly even more so.

He could see and sense despite the darkness surrounding them that Saoirse felt it too, and she looked equally uneasy as she answered him. We need to see what they are up to, and if there is any way to counter it.

Just the two of us? I very much doubt it!

They drew closer anyway, and as they reached the edge of the sparse tree line, they could see a large clearing before them. To their east lay the majority of the enemy's war camp, but almost directly before them they saw a large bonfire, encircled by the chanting, drumming men, who formed a large oval. Inside this formation, a beautiful woman with long white-gold hair wearing a blue mantle and holding a long staff sat on a rustic looking throne on a high stepped platform. At the foot of the platform stood a crowned man with long blond hair, a strawberry-blond youth with a gold torc around his neck, a young red-haired man wearing a circlet on his head, and a red-haired young woman who appeared to be close in age to Sebastian and Saoirse, her hair unbound and topped with a golden crown

A man nearer the bonfire, appearing to be dressed in ceremonial garb of some sort, called out loudly, and two horses and a cow were led into the ritual space. The two scouts watched with growing disquiet as the livestock were swiftly dispatched, their blood collected and spattered over the onlooking crowd by the priest holding an evergreen branch.

It's a bit like asperging with holy water, isn't it? I mean, obviously it's not the same thing, but the basic motion is much like it, and maybe it serves a similar purpose. Sebastian tried his best to detach his emotions from what he was witnessing, but it was growing very difficult, for the scene filled him with a very visceral revulsion.

I don't think this is going to stop with livestock, Seb. I think they just got those out of the way first since they're meant to be part of the feast. If this is headed where I think it is, this is about to get a hell of a lot worse, and we can't do a thing to stop it without ending up right in the middle of it.

Sebastian glanced at his companion, whose features–still in Cillian form–appeared almost carved out of stone now, the familiar brown eyes coolly dispassionate as they witnessed the ritual, though Sebastian knew his childhood friend well enough to know that the rigid shields concealed very strong emotions only barely contained.

Maybe we can go back through the portal and get help? Even as he shared the thought, he realized the futility of it. There was no way to bring back the hundreds of men that would be needed, and needed quickly, to interrupt whatever was in progress and launch an attack on the enemy camp that had any hope of success.

The boy stepped forward now, leading the red-haired young woman by the hand. Judging by her slow steps and the slight wavering pattern of her progress forward, Sebastian wondered if she might have been sedated, and something about her blank expression made him feel even more sure that she was in some sort of a daze. He glanced over at the high ranked observers on the raised dais and noticed that there was an odd mixture of reactions to this turn of events. The blond man frowned and looked up to say something sharply to the woman on the throne, who merely smiled in response. The red-haired man, on the other hand, grinned as though something intensely amusing had just happened or was about to.

Six armored figures stepped forward from the chanting circle, dragging small evergreen branches into the clear space before the bonfire, but outside the range of flying sparks, piling them to form a sort of cushion on the ground. The youth brought the maiden to the center of this pile, looking at the priest-figure as the ceremonially-dressed man stepped forward and began to trace a circle around them with a sword, repeating his steps as he chanted a countermelody to the main chant continuing around him. As he completed the third circuit, a hazy mist began to form around the periphery of the circle, shrouding what was happening within.

The cadence of the chant and drumming changed suddenly, starting back again slowly but building in intensity, the energies in the air surrounding the entire area growing more and more oppressive. Within the circle of mist, Sebastian could barely make out a feeble struggle between the enclosed silhouettes, and felt sick to his stomach as he realized what was taking place. He glanced as Saoirse, but as their eyes met, she pointed out something else in the darkness beyond the bonfire.

That must be what all the rope was for.

The young intelligencer was horrified as he saw the long queue of blindfolded prisoners being led out to the trees surrounding the clearing, dozens of bound and struggling captives being led to the slaughter, until the woods immediately surrounding the clearing were filled with hanged sacrifices.

The mist around the circle dissipated. The chant became a loud cheer as the youth emerged, bloodstained and smiling, carrying the young woman over his shoulder to deposit her at the base of the throne, rolling her onto her back. Her dress was torn, and large stains covered her chest and what remained of her skirt. The youth lifted up a dagger to cries of acclamation and handed it over to the seated woman.

The red-haired man bent as if to tug at the bloodstained rags, but was yanked back by the older man, who appeared furious. He shouted something to the woman in what might have been the Eistenmarcker tongue, for it was certainly not Torenthi, but the woman merely gave him a cool smile and gestured to the youth to take his victim away.

The drumming and chanting stopped, and a war horn blew a blood-curdling note. The circle of onlookers broke up, filing away towards the main camp.

Sebastian edged further into the shadows of the woods. I don't know where they're headed, but we need to get out of here. I know I've certainly seen more than enough.

As have I. And as for where they are headed, they're off to wine and dine. I've read of this sort of thing before, but could have cheerfully gone the rest of my days without seeing one.

They started to make their way back to the ruined manor where their portal awaited, but a noise in the underbrush up ahead stopped them in their tracks. Had they been observed by some sentry while they were too focused on what was happening in front of them to consider whether anyone had come up from behind? Sebastian and Saoirse glanced at each other in apprehension, both reaching for their weapons, but as the rustling noises came closer, they realized it was the blood-stained youth from the ritual, still carrying the young woman to some unseen destination up ahead, apparently oblivious to their presence. After several minutes, he returned the way he had come, only without his limp burden.

Don't even think it, Seb. We haven't the time to bury her, and it's too late to do any sort of useful Death Reading.

We can't leave without at least checking to see if she's actually dead. What if she's merely injured?

A long pause. Bloody hell. Let's go, then.

#

She had a noose around her neck when they found her, but fortunately either her assailant hadn't been tall enough to secure the other end of the rope to the branch he'd tried to affix it to, or his knot hadn't held. At any rate, they found the limp figure lying at the base of a tree not very far from the ruined manor house.

Saoirse bent to examine her quickly. That's a surprise! She's still alive, but only barely, and I can't risk spending the time and energy to Heal her here. We need to get her back through the Portal, and then I can see what we're dealing with. She's lost a lot of blood, so don't get your hopes up.

Sebastian wasted no time in picking up the limp figure. Cradling her gently, he followed his foster sister as the two Deryni scouts made their way back to the portal as quickly as they dared, not stopping to rest until they were safely through on the Gwyneddan side and Saoirse had set protective wards around their end of the portal in case anyone discovering the missing body later happened to go hunting for it and found the hidden Nördmarcke portal instead. It was unlikely any enemy trackers would trace where the two scouts had jumped to, but after what they had witnessed, they weren't planning on taking any more chances.

#

March 12, 1464
Just after midnight
Somewhere in the Rhendall Mountains
Gwynedd

"She's bled a lot. I can't do much about that, but I've healed the stab wounds, so she won't lose any more blood than she's lost already. The worst wound only narrowly missed her heart. It's a miracle she's still alive. There were also some other internal injuries, though thankfully only minor ones aside from the stabbing injuries, and I also Healed her scrapes and bruises." Saoirse glanced at her friend. "I want to take a peek inside her mind to see if I can find out more about what we just witnessed. I'm pretty sure the blond man we saw near the dais earlier was King Torval, but it would help to know the identities of the others."

"I agree," Sebastian said, frowning thoughtfully at the girl they had just brought through the Portal a few minutes earlier. Now that he had a closer look at her, she seemed a little younger than he had first thought, perhaps in her mid-teens rather than late teens or early twenties, but beyond that, something about her seemed oddly familiar, even though he was certain they had never met. A girl as pretty as this one was, even now in her bloodied and battered condition, he would have remembered.

Saoirse's lips tightened with what Sebastian recognized as suppressed anger. "She's also pregnant, I think, though the signs of new life are barely detectable. God only knows how the blood loss and trauma will affect the child. This is well outside my scope of field medic training. She's stable now, so I want to get her to Rhemuth as soon as possible, but as much as I hate to do anything else to violate her more than she's already been violated, I think we're going to need the information in her mind first. We have to know who it is that we're dealing with, and also what they are planning, if she happens to know that."

Sebastian sighed. "As much as I hate it, I agree. It might be for the best if we do that now, before she regains consciousness, because I'm pretty sure the last thing she's going to want to see is a man hovering over her, or worse, sense me going through her mind. Is she Deryni?"

Saoirse sent a tentative probe into the girl's mind, encountering only rudimentary shields. "I don't believe so." She carefully sifted through the girl's memories, at first only finding the few facts she had gone in to find, but as her probe began to brush against some unexpected anomalies, she started to go deeper than she'd originally intended, puzzled by her discoveries. At last she ended the probe, meeting Sebastian's frowning gaze.

"That took you longer than I was expecting. I thought you only meant to see who she was and who else was at the dais?"

"That's all I meant to look at. That's not all that I found, though." Saoirse took a deep breath, looking even more frightened than when they'd been hidden in the shadows outside the war camp. "The girl's name is Cécile. She barely has any shields and she has no Deryni powers. But she has memories of having Deryni powers when she was a young girl."

Sebastian gaped at her. "What does that even mean? How can someone be Deryni and then stop being Dery...." The realization dawned, and he wasn't sure if he was more excited or horrified at the implications. "Do you think some Healer has rediscovered how to Block powers? And if so, who? And why her?"

Saoirse nodded. "I think that's the most likely explanation for how, though I have no idea who or why. But that's not all. This girl is King Torval's mistress...and also Queen Alixa's sister."

The girl stirred suddenly, her dark blue-gray eyes fluttering open, then widening as the horrific memories of her last minutes of consciousness returned. Seeing what appeared to be two unknown men hovering over her, she screamed, fighting them with an unexpected strength born of panic.

Sebastian's first instinct was to restrain her, but seeing the terror in the girl's eyes and realizing what was causing it, he took a quick step back instead. "Saoirse, drop the guise!"

Saoirse, her mind taking just a moment longer to catch up, dropped her illusory form, appearing as her true self. "Shh, shh!  Relax! You're safe now."

Sebastian took a deep breath, dragging out his very rusty Jouvian. "Vous êtes en sécurité maintenant, Votre Altesse. Vous êtes à Gwynne maintenant."

Cécile stilled as her mind registered the first Jouvian words she had heard in nearly a month. "Je suis à Gwynne?"

"Oui, Votre Altesse. Je connais la Reine, votre soeur. Voudriez-vous aller à Rhemuth?"

"Comment puis-je savoir que je peux te faire confiance?" Her eyes regarded him with grave distrust. Under the circumstances, Sebastian could hardly blame her.

"Saoirse, you've met the Queen, right?"

"The new Queen, Alixa? Once or twice in passing."

"Show her one of your memories of the Queen. I've asked if she wants to go to Rhemuth to be with her sister. She's asking for proof that she can trust us, but I doubt she'll want me touching her, much less intruding into her mind, and you've just come out of it, so maybe you can manage to share the memory without even needing to touch her."

#

Cécile listened intently to the swift exchange. She had tried to learn Gwyneddan, but was more familiar with how the written language looked than how the spoken version sounded, so it was difficult to comprehend more than a few words of what they said, but she had caught something about a queen and going to Rhemuth, and the word "proof," which was close enough to the Jouvian word that she was fairly certain of its meaning. They might mean well, but it was impossible to know for sure. Both were Deryni, and she had rarely ever had reason in her life to trust those of that race, despite having been born with the potential to develop the same powers. At least one of them could change from a man to a woman, which was a trick she'd never seen before, but she had no way to know which was the true form. If they meant to bring her to Rhemuth, she wanted to go, to see Alixa face-to-face and find some familiar and hopefully friendly face in the middle of this nightmare that was happening. She didn't even know if Alixa still remembered her fondly. She had sent her sister a few brief messages over the years, when she could get a courier willing to risk smuggling them out of Joux, but she had never received a reply.

She had thought getting married would solve all of her problems. How very wrong she had been! Then she had discovered love, and thought that would ease her pain, but none of Haakon's brutal stab wounds had hurt her so deeply as the thought that Torval had stood witness to her suffering and shame and had done nothing to intervene.

She needed no man, and especially no Deryni, and yet here these two were, determining her fate as it had ever been determined by their kind. She wasn't even certain she could trust anyone, not even her own sister who had once been kind to her.

#

"I think you should take her on to Rhemuth," Sebastian said. "She's more likely to trust you than me, and one of us needs to report back to Father and Prince Nicholas."

Saoirse looked hesitant. "I realize she's more likely to trust me in this form, but I'm much better known in Rhemuth as Cillian of Llyr. Also, I don't speak Jouvian, so the only way I can communicate with her will be mind to mind, which she is likely to try to resist now that she is conscious."

Sebastian considered the problem. "All right, how about this? I will tell her in Jouvian that we are taking her to Rhemuth. If you Mind-link with me, you'll understand the intent of my words if not the actual word-for-word meaning, and you can translate that intent in mind-images so she will understand more clearly what we intend to do. Once we make the jump to Rhemuth–which I imagine we will need to do together, so we will be pretty crowded on that Portal stone and she may panic over the close proximity–we can escort her to the Infirmary and then I can go find the Queen. I think once she sees her sister and understands we're not just abandoning her to a bunch of other strangers, we can both return to camp and report in."

"And what is your plan for getting her to follow us peacefully from the Cathedral to the Castle in the middle of a foreign city?"

Bloody hell, this was getting complicated! Sebastian had forgotten Saoirse didn't know either of the in-castle portal locations, nor was he sure he was permitted to share either one with her. But of the two, the Library Annex portal was more secure. At least she would not be able to pass through the wards to the rest of the castle without an officially approved escort. Hopefully that would be a sufficient defense to bring up should the King threaten to string him up for the security breach. Then again, the King was also one of the few people who knew Cillian of Llyr as the Banfhlaith of Llyr, so hopefully he would have no serious objection under the circumstances.

"I don't have one. We'll use this location," he replied, Mind-Sharing the alternate portal signature with his foster sister.

#

The man who seemed more clearly a man looked back at Cécile, his voice growing more gentle as he spoke to her. "Nous allons vous transporter à Rhemuth pour voir votre soeur la Reine et un médecin." He sounded kind, concerned, but then again, so had Torval.

Images filtered through her mind: the three of them standing very close together on a stone, the world dissolving away briefly only to reappear with very different looking surroundings. The three of them in a foreign castle. Her sister's face. Alixa was older and prettier than Cécile remembered, her expression more relaxed. She looked happy.

It was Alixa's expression that made Cécile slightly more inclined to trust, if only because she needed desperately to find hope that someday, somehow, she might also find such happiness. Perhaps trust wasn't the right word so much as risk.

"D'Accord."

#

March 12, 1464
Just after midnight
The Royal Library
Rhemuth Castle

It was well after bedtime, but Lord Riordan couldn't sleep. After a few hours of attempting to rest, he had given up the struggle, instead deciding to make more productive use of the night hours by reviewing the lesson on Bremagni culture he intended to give Princess Richeldis later in the morning. With any luck, the selection of readings would take her most of the daylight hours to read through, perhaps allowing him a few free hours later in the morning during which he could take a brief nap.

He was startled to see the Prince's squire Sebastian come through the ward separating the Annex from the main library, and even more surprised to see him bring through the Banfhlaith and another young woman who looked vaguely familiar. The three, especially the unknown woman, looked like they had just narrowly escaped the gates of Hell.

"We need a Healer quickly--female, if possible, but if not, then also fetch a midwife. And the Queen needs to be informed of our arrival at once. This is her sister," Saoirse, spotting him instantly, commanded in a voice that told Riordan any questions could wait until a later time to be answered.

Riordan bowed deeply. "My Lady." He left immediately to summon the requested help.

#

March 12, 1464
Half an hour past midnight
The Royal Infirmary
Rhemuth Castle

It had taken half an hour for Lord Riordan to summon the requested parties, all having been soundly asleep before his arrival, but upon stopping by the King's apartment first, the squire on duty had been swiftly dispatched to fetch the Healer and midwife while Riordan escorted the Queen directly to the Royal Library. Wishing to spare her what shock that he could, he took the precaution of sharing his memory of the young princess's appearance with the Queen as they hurried across the garden courtyard in order to prepare her for her sister's appearance.

Alixa found her younger sister curled up in a ball on the library floor, neither asleep nor unconscious, yet curiously unresponsive. The two scouts escorting her rose to make their bows, but she waved their obeisances aside with a preoccupied gesture as she sank to the ground to check on Cécile.

"Petite fleur," Alixa addressed her sister as she reached out a tentative hand.

Cécile's eyes shot open and she instinctively drew back, recoiling against the wall. She scrambled to a sitting position. "Je ne suis pas ta petite fleur!" she hissed, putting Alixa in mind of a very frightened feral kitten. Alixa backed away, giving the young scouts a distressed look.

Not knowing what to say or do to help her sister, and hesitant to attempt to touch her again for fear of frightening her further, Alixa began to question the scouts, seeking their answers for how her sister came to be in this alarming condition.

They gave their report on what they had witnessed, Alixa turning pale as she heard how close her sister had come to dying, and then Saoirse reported what she had discovered when she had probed the princess's mind to discover who had perpetrated such foul deeds.

The Healer and midwife arrived then. Cécile shrank back further against the wall as the Healer approached, though he stopped a few feet in front of her, making no move to touch her or come closer. Instead, he simply reached into his Healer pouch, withdrawing a clear crystal object shaped similarly to a spinning whorl and placing it on his palm, flicking it so it spun and caught the flickering candlelight around the room, transfixing the girl's gaze until, with a snap of the fingers on his free hand, she instantly fell asleep. Only then did he reach out to tap her forehead, sending her into a deeper level of unconsciousness.

"Let's get her over to the Infirmary and take a closer look at what we are dealing with," Master James Bannatyne, Royal Physician and Healer to the Royal Household of Gwynedd, told Her Majesty.

#

March 12, 1464
Two hours past midnight
The Royal Infirmary
Rhemuth Castle

Once the princess had been safely settled in the Royal Infirmary, Sebastian left Rhemuth to bring his report back to Prince Nicholas. Upon hearing that Saoirse was a Healer, albeit only partially trained, and that it had been she who had done the assessing probe into the young Princess's mind, the Queen of Gwynedd and her Royal Healer requested that Saoirse remain a while longer to assist in the examination and also with any questions the other two might have regarding the injuries Saoirse had previously Healed.

After placing temporary controls over the Princess's mind to ensure she would remain in a deep trance and unaware of their work, for they did not wish to cause her any further fear but they needed to be certain of how much injury she had received, both in her recent ordeal and by means of previous ones, in order to Heal her properly, Master James gave Cécile a more thorough examination than Saoirse had been able to manage under the rough field conditions where she had performed the initial Healing work. He took several minutes to fully assess what damage had been done as well as how well or badly done Saoirse's efforts had been, and eventually came out of his light Healing trance to look over at Saoirse, who watched him with some nervousness.

"How long did you say you've trained as a Healer?" he asked her.

"As a Healer, I'm largely self-taught from old scrolls and books in the Royal Library in Llyr, and also a few texts from Andelon. But I've had three years of training as a field medic." She bit her lip. "Did I miss anything? I mostly focused on stopping the bleeding and repairing the worst of the damage as best as I could figure out how."

"No, you did well. There were a few things I might have done differently, but that knowledge will come with more practice and experience. Once the war is over, if you wish to continue your studies in the Healing Art, I'm certain a place could be made at the Schola for you. I would be glad to offer a letter of recommendation should you need one."

Saoirse blushed. "It's not entirely my decision to make, but I will keep the offer in mind."

The Royal Healer turned towards Alixa. "Your Majesty, your sister has lost a great deal of blood, so I would like to keep her here in the Infirmary for the next few days at the very least until her body has a chance to replenish what she has lost and regain strength. There is also the complication that it appears I have two patients to care for here, not one, though given all that Princess Cécile has just gone through, she is at fairly high risk of losing the child."

"I see." Alixa, feeling a little unsteady, sat on a bench next to her sister's bed. "And how far along is she?"

"That is difficult to determine with certainty, but the fact that I can detect any sign of life at all tells me the babe has already taken root within her womb. Yet it is still a faint presence, and under the circumstances I can't quite tell if it feels faint because the child has only settled into a proper position to take its nourishment from its mother within the past day or two, or if it is more securely planted but its life force is hard to detect because the recent ordeal has sapped it of vitality. But at rough guess, I would think the child was conceived somewhere between six to ten days ago."

"I suppose that's no surprise. She was to be wed on the feast of Saint Valentinus, if I'm remembering correctly, which would have been nearly a month ago." The Queen's expression hardened as she recalled more of Cécile's last letter to her. "Wed by our father to an Eistenmarcker. You don't think it was the same man who did this to her, do you?" She lifted a corner of Cécile's tattered and bloodstained gown, now discarded and replaced by a clean linen shift, her voice trembling with anger. "Was this her new husband's work?"

"That is what I am about to determine, Your Majesty," said the Healer. "Thus far, I have been double checking the physical injuries and Healing work. Now I want to take a deeper look into the damage her ordeal has done within her mind. Once we have discovered whatever there is to learn, do I have your permission to blur her memories of what she has suffered? That would likely reduce her fear and aid in her more rapid healing, but it will also make it more difficult for us to go back and learn what she knows about the Kingdom's enemies at a later date, should you need more information from her mind."

"I think I have already retrieved the information regarding the Princess's ordeal and our allied enemies that the King and Prince Nicholas are most likely to be interested in at present," said Saoirse. "I only left her memories intact because of the other discovery I made, which seems to go back much further to an earlier trauma...but I would rather see if you discover it for yourself, Master Healer, because I am hoping very much that I have merely misinterpreted something with a much simpler explanation."

The Master Healer gave Saoirse a wary look. "Let's see if I manage to find the same thing, then." Cupping the princess's head between his hands, he closed his eyes and sank back into a Healing trance, delving deeply into her mind. When he resurfaced after several minutes, he appeared deeply shaken.

"Your Majesty, are you aware that, at least according to your sister's memories, you and your sisters were all born Deryni, and that your father has a Deryni Healer with the long-lost Blocking talent hidden away somewhere in Joux?"

Alixa stared at him in shock. "What?!" She tried to recall who served her as her father's physician when she had still lived in Joux. He had access to several, she vaguely recalled, as well as a Healer or two, but if either could Block, she had no knowledge of it, nor did she have any recollection that she had ever possessed any Deryni powers, even untrained ones.

"Your Majesty," the Royal Healer continued, "Would you permit me to take a closer look at your own mind, just to see if I can find any sign of you ever having had Deryni powers? It is possible that you had some at one time, but if they were Blocked, your memories of having previously had some might have been altered as well."

She stared at the two Healers before her. "I wish to know," she finally told them, "yet before I can permit that, I feel certain that Cinhil will wish to be notified first."

"Of course, Madam. The matter has waited this long to be discovered; it can certainly keep until he wakes up. As for your sister, I've made a different but related discovery. Whoever Blocked her also planted a carefully hidden set of instructions for how to undo the action, or at least I think he meant to do so, only the Unblocking relies on finding a certain trigger point, and even though it appears simple enough in the buried memory, I am unable to find the precise point he refers to."

Saoirse looked startled. "I didn't see that bit."

The Master Healer nodded. "It was very cleverly concealed. I only found it because I was trying to piece together the fragments of memory the Princess had of having been able to summon handfire as a child, and once I had sifted through enough of those fragments, that unlocked the additional information. I can show you where to find it, if you want to see if you can spot something that I've missed."

"I very much doubt that," Saoirse said, though she glanced at the Queen of Gwynedd for permission nonetheless.

Alixa, still stunned by the implications, nodded absently. Saoirse took another deep look into Cécile's mind, this time with the other Healer's guidance. After a few more minutes, she re-emerged.

"I might have detected the point the Jouvian Healer was referring to. It's easy to miss unless you know just where to look, so hopefully I can find it again. But I'm very hesitant to touch it. After all, given everything Princess Cécile has just gone through and the fact that she has no reason to trust any of us, aside from hopefully her sister, do we really want to risk restoring full Deryni powers to someone with no training and no safeguards just yet?"

Alixa sat lost in thought. At least she came to a decision. "If I have the same hidden trigger point, then you can test it on me instead. But not until the King is awake, for I feel certain he will wish to be in that link with you. In the meantime, can you blur my sister's memories of her more recent ordeal so she is not haunted by those nightmares?"

"We can do that, Madam. In fact, we can also keep her asleep through the night; that will be of additional benefit in helping her body recover more quickly as well as her mind. And that will allow you to go back to sleep for a few more hours, since you have your own unborn child's health to consider as well."

Alixa nodded. "I doubt I will be able to get back to sleep anyway, with all of these new developments on my mind, but I should at least try to rest some more."

"Helping you go back to sleep is definitely something that I can help you with," her Healer said. Turning to Saoirse, he added, "In the meantime, if you would also like to take a nap, you can use one of the spare beds here in the Infirmary."


Next chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3233.0.html

[Evie]

Just when things were starting to get nearly sorted.... 😅

[revanne]

It's no less horrifying reading it again which is a tribute to your powers of story-telling.

In a way I find Torval's failure to save Cécile the most shocking, given that he seemed to really care for her.

[Evie]

It's no less horrifying reading it again which is a tribute to your powers of story-telling.

In a way I find Torval's failure to save Cécile the most shocking, given that he seemed to really care for her.

True, though to be fair, what could he really do to salvage the situation while singlehandedly fighting against several hundred Eistenmarckers? Torval is very much a "live to see another day and get my revenge when they least expect it" sort, not a "die heroically but in vain attempting to do the impossible" sort.

Keep in mind that Sebastian and Saoirse watched everything happen also, certainly not because they wanted to, but because there was no other survivable choice.

Granted, none of that would be of any particular consolation to Cécile at the moment.

[revanne]

It's no less horrifying reading it again which is a tribute to your powers of story-telling.

In a way I find Torval's failure to save Cécile the most shocking, given that he seemed to really care for her.

True, though to be fair, what could he really do to salvage the situation while singlehandedly fighting against several hundred Eistenmarckers? Torval is very much a "live to see another day and get my revenge when they least expect it" sort, not a "die heroically but in vain attempting to do the impossible" sort.

Keep in mind that Sebastian and Saoirse watched everything happen also, certainly not because they wanted to, but because there was no other survivable choice.

Oh indeed. And perhaps I am being too hard on Torval. It's just that we have seen another side of him, unlike Rémy who seems to be seeking to outmatch Lucifer.

And Sebastian and Saorse haven't been busy encouraging Cécile to fall in love with tham. 

[DerynifanK]

Mercy! Twists and turns. The experience will certainly have affected her long term. I wonder how Torval felt about it and if he will regret his new alliance. Any chance the healer and his family can be rescued from Joux?
Nicholas needs to know that Torval has formed an alliance with these heathens and be prepared for their savagery.

[Demercia]

Brilliantly written and ghastly.  I had a horrible feeling that something like this was what they had in mind. 

[JudithR]

Brilliantly written but whew; I though something dark was coming - this was worse. An evil set of people, but hopefully Nicholas can use the intelligence to his advantage.

Hope mother and child survive with minds and bodies intact.

[Evie]

It's no less horrifying reading it again which is a tribute to your powers of story-telling.

In a way I find Torval's failure to save Cécile the most shocking, given that he seemed to really care for her.

True, though to be fair, what could he really do to salvage the situation while singlehandedly fighting against several hundred Eistenmarckers? Torval is very much a "live to see another day and get my revenge when they least expect it" sort, not a "die heroically but in vain attempting to do the impossible" sort.

Keep in mind that Sebastian and Saoirse watched everything happen also, certainly not because they wanted to, but because there was no other survivable choice.

Oh indeed. And perhaps I am being too hard on Torval. It's just that we have seen another side of him, unlike Rémy who seems to be seeking to outmatch Lucifer.

And Sebastian and Saorse haven't been busy encouraging Cécile to fall in love with tham.

Honestly, things could have turned out much worse for Cécile if Torval had tried to intervene in some other way besides arguing with Ingrid (which, if you'll notice, Sebastian and Saoirse see him doing). The only way he would have had any chance of surviving for more than a few seconds if he'd physically fought what was happening would be if he killed Ingrid first (to deprive the Eistenmarkers of her magic, because even though they have numbers and ferocity, she is the real key to their strength) and then attempted to survive the ensuing melée long enough for the wards around Cécile to disperse so he could grab her and then...um...flee where while surrounded by a few hundred Eistenmarckers and maybe some Jouvians loyal to Rémy, but his own loyal Nordmarckers inconveniently absent? He isn't a Healer, nor does he know there is a Portal nearby, so those options are out. Sebastian and Saoirse would have been less able to intervene because they'd have been escaping the center of the ensuing chaos, not running towards it. So it is actually to Cécile's benefit that Torval had the good sense to realize that wasn't the proper moment to attempt something heroic. (Giving his Queen a dressing-down in front of several hundred bloodthirsty Eistenmarckers who are far more loyal to her than to him was already taking a risk.) Not to mention that breaking the alliance that dramatically would have just ended up with the Eistenmarckers turning on his unsuspecting Nordmarckers camped nearby, suddenly and without warning. Granted, that would shift the focus of the war away from Gwynedd for the moment and turned it into an Eistenmarcke/Nordmarcke conflict, but I'm pretty sure that's the last thing the King of Nordmarcke wants, especially if he's dead and the new King of Nordmarcke is Torval's very young and unprepared son!

I actually blame him much more for grooming Cécile in the first place, knowing she was meant to be Haakon's wife, not his own mistress (and since Torval was unaware of what was planned, besides some sort of ritual consummation event, and given that Haakon is only twelve, he might have even assumed that was more likely to be as symbolic as their proxy "consummation" was in Joux). Though at least I can see why he'd been tempted, if every other woman in his life has mainly wanted him for the prestige and power associated with being the wife or mistress of a King, rather than just wanting Torval the man. But Torval had the option of saying "Bless, she's adorable! But she's off limits" and not encouraging Cécile's budding affections, but he didn't, and that could end up causing her a lot more pain in the long term. The ritual consummation was always going to take place, but it was the affair with Torval that made Haakon decide to try to kill her and offer her up as a sacrifice afterwards, and that is entirely on Torval even though he never predicted that outcome for his actions.

Mercy! Twists and turns. The experience will certainly have affected her long term. I wonder how Torval felt about it and if he will regret his new alliance. Any chance the healer and his family can be rescued from Joux?
Nicholas needs to know that Torval has formed an alliance with these heathens and be prepared for their savagery.

Oh, I'm sure in Torval's mind the old phrase "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" has likely changed to "The enemy of my enemy is also my enemy, but as long as they remain useful, I'm willing to keep them close anyhow, but the moment they become expendable, they're toast." 

Is there a chance the Healer in Joux can be rescued with his family? Well, possibly, but that would require figuring out who and where they are first. And I think Nicholas will know the situation he is facing soon enough, since we've just seen Sebastian on his way back to the war camp to inform him.

Brilliantly written and ghastly.  I had a horrible feeling that something like this was what they had in mind. 

Yes, your instincts about my little hints and clues thus far have tended to be spot-on.

Brilliantly written but whew; I though something dark was coming - this was worse. Arlians An evil set of people, but hopefully Nicholas can use the intelligence to his advantage.

Hope mother and child survive with minds and bodies intact.

My Eistenmarckers are certainly not here to play. And Ingrid could hardly be described as a peaceweaver, despite being the dowager queen of her people. (As well as Queen of Nordmarcke now, thanks to her marriage to Torval.)

Fortunately Cécile has had the good fortune to end up in a skilled Healer's hands, so she has the chance for a good recovery, albeit probably not without some emotional scars. In my original conception of this scene, she was not intended to survive, but then it occurred to me that a last-minute rescue would make it easier for the Gwyneddan Healer to learn about the captive Healer back in Joux, as well as the Blocking done to the Jouvian princesses, which was originally meant to be discovered in a different but (thinking back on that original plan) a much less plausible way.

[Evie]

BTW, there is a spin-off story that I'll drop at some point that has a few scenes showing our young scouts Sebastian and Saoirse as much younger children, again getting in a little bit over their heads with a self-imposed "mission" they happened upon while pretending to be intelligencers. I have to admit Sebastian in particular became one of my favorite background characters pretty much from the moment he first set foot on the page. I do seem to have a weakness for those Arilans.... 

[JudithR]

Competent lot those Arilans.  In an quiet, very effective way.

[Evie]

Competent lot those Arilans.  In an quiet, very effective way.

I would consider Saoirse to be an honorary Arilan as well, given that she was fostered to Lord Geoffrey's household as a child with the express purpose of having her trained to be an intelligencer once she was old enough.

[DerynifanK]

I have to say I would enjoy seeing Remy and Haakon strung up or meeting some very painful death.
I wonder if, at some point, Torval will take revenge on Ingrid, Haakon, and/or Remy for what was done to Cecile, if he really did care that much for her.
I think Torval has landed himself with some very scary allies if they really are allies rather than the enemy within his gates.

[Evie]

I have to say I would enjoy seeing Remy and Haakon strung up or meeting some very painful death.

Well, there is a war coming up, so I would have to say that is not outside the realm of possibility.

I wonder if, at some point, Torval will take revenge on Ingrid, Haakon, and/or Remy for what was done to Cecile, if he really did care that much for her.

We already know that even before this turn of events, Torval was not shaping up to be the most reliable ally to any of the above, so this would just increase his motivation for turning on them once they have outlived their usefulness.

I think Torval has landed himself with some very scary allies if they really are allies rather than the enemy within his gates.

Indeed he has! He is now in the very uncomfortable position of having them be both allies and enemies. Of course, he would hope that they don't realize just yet that they've just made an enemy of him instead of just an unreliable ally, which at least Ingrid already suspected he would be before she even proposed to him, but just as she is (for the moment) useful to Torval's ambitions, Torval is (equally temporarily) useful to hers.

[Shiral]

Wow! Poor Cecile! And yet....how lucky for her that Sebastian and Saoirse were RIGHT there right then and got her safely to Rhemuth! I hope Alixa and the Royal Healer can help her recover in mind and body. She's clearly been through hell. (And I hope the two sisters will have the opportunity to be happy to see one another and have each other for company and comfort once Cecile is feeling better.)

And yes, I am sure that Torval wasn't about to throw his whole life away for nothing right then and there at the Blot. I sure hope that Hakon and Remy both meet nasty ends in this story! And Ingrid, as well.