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                               Sangrelysia

                          by Vivian Darkbloom

The Journey Begins

   It's amazing how a little nothing, a non-event that seems
   inconsequential, can expand and take over everything. It doesn't
   take long for something to happen which changes your whole life.

   I rode in the front of the procession with Roderick.

   "What's gettin' to ya, lad?"

   "It just steams me. Rrrrr."

   "What?"

   "Did you see the way the King put down that poor woman? The lady
   in white, whose son was lost in battle."

   "Sheila."

   "Who?"

   "Sheila Cyndham."

   "I just can't believe how nasty he was to her."

   He shrugged. "That's King G. for ye."

   "What a stinking misogynist! Doesn't he have any respect at all
   for women?"

   Another shrug. "Lovely day, anyway."

   Impulsively, I drew out the tiny crystal ball, and placed it in
   my palm, fascinated by its clarity.

   He had a point. The warmth of the sun was stirring up the
   fragrance in the flowers, and the butterflies in the meadow. The
   road was wide and smooth, and our company traversed easily,
   everyone smiling and chatting amiably. The contingent of
   guardsmen and women that traveled with us were dressed casually,
   in dark brown cotton uniforms.

   I restored the crystal back to its place in my pocket.

   A page came galloping forward. "Mr. Wizard, sir. The princess
   would like to have a word with you," she said.

   Roderick raised an eyebrow, and I rolled my eyes. He chuckled as
   I signaled Vianne, my chocolate mare, to halt, falling back in
   line as the procession advanced.

   I matched my pace with the carriage as it clopped along from
   behind me.

   Sylvia was leaning out of the window. "I wanna ride a horsie."

   From inside the carriage, a voice cried out: "How long till we
   get there?"

   "But. . ." I stammered. "The carriage is warm and comfy, even in
   the rain."

   "It's sunny out."

   "You're not big enough to ride a horsie."

   "I could ride with you!"

   "Your mother would have my head on a silver platter!"

   "She will," replied Sylvia cheerily.

   "I appreciate your optimism, but no."

   Sylvia pouted. No ordinary pout, this, but a carefully crafted,
   particularly nefarious pout reserved for special occasions: the
   legendary death-pout from hell. Unfair -- she knew I couldn't
   resist for long.

   Once more, a voice cried out: "How long till we get there?"

   The death-pout crescendoed in intensity.

   "Look, OK, fine. I know I'm going to regret this, but you can
   ride with me."

   "Yay!" She was all smiles again.

   I called out to the driver, and we halted for a few moments while
   she daintily climbed down the steps, lifting her fine royal dress
   to ensure her footing, and the attendant lifted her up onto the
   saddle in front of me. It would have worked better had she been
   wearing riding pants of some sort, but we hitched up her dress
   enough to make it work somehow.

   She glanced back at me coyly as we started up again, twitching
   her buns mischievously, as I felt her delicate softness and
   warmth, like a sweet baby dove in my palm.

   We rode in pleasant coziness for awhile, I running my fingers
   gently now and again through her silky-soft long dark hair, she
   running her tiny hand dangerously along my thigh.

   "I love you," I whispered in her ear.

   She smiled sweetly back at me, then made me bend over so she
   could whisper back, cupping her hand softly against my ear: "I
   love you too."

   Then aloud she said: "Can we go faster?"

   "Hm. Sure, why not?"

   We wound up riding a few galloping circles around the slow-moving
   entourage, with thudding hoofbeats across the grassy meadows on
   either side of the road. Until winded, we returned to the
   carriage to catch our breath, not to mention giving Vianne a
   little rest.

   The driver stopped once more while I climbed into the carriage to
   see a few things Sylvia wanted to show me.

   Inside, we were greeted by the pleasant faces of Sylvia's
   girls-in-waiting: dark-skinned Shannon with long curly hair, and
   autumn-blonde Meredith, with whom we had made love a few days
   before.

   The two smiled at me with knowing fond intensity, and I was
   required to greet each one with a little hug and kiss on the
   lips. I sat between them, facing backward with the Princess
   settling on my lap, as the carriage jolted once more into forward
   motion, resuming the hypnotic clip-clop of progress. Across from
   us sat Lindsay, a petite ivory-brunette, and Stacey, with a huge
   headful of red hair.

   "How long till we get there?" somebody said.

   "So look what I got for Aunt Peg," bubbled Sylvia with
   excitement. She opened the box she had brought out, tissue-paper
   rustling. "Ow!" she yelped, sticking her finger into her mouth.

   "What?" I asked.

   "I pricked my finger on a pin," she said, holding it up to show
   me.

   I kissed it for good luck.

   Sylvia pulled out a beautiful new dress. "The royal tailor made
   it, special for aunt Peg. She said that Peg's about the size of
   Queen Megan, but thinner. My mom does like her chocolates!"

   Her use of the present tense made me uneasy, but I remained
   silent as she chattered away. The dress was off-white with
   delicate lace and embroidered springtime floral patterns. There
   was a necklace and earrings to go along, all elegantly matching.
   Quite beautiful. I knew Peg would enjoy it, and looked forward to
   seeing her try it on.

   Not all of the girls had been to visit the Queen's sister before,
   so Sylvia was busily explaining at about a million kilometres an
   hour. "Aunt Peg is such a doll. She has no kids of her own, but
   the coolest toys! Last time I was there, we played with these
   dueling kites, and it was so fun!"

   And so on. I began to feel slightly drowsy, as the feeling of
   coziness grew with the increasing heat of the young ladies' limbs
   pressed against mine from all sides, the warmth and softness
   surrounding me. Perhaps I even drifted off to sleep for awhile,
   leaning back in the plush cushions.

   I awoke with a start. Low rumbling in the distance. Thunder.

   "How long till we get there?" asked someone.

   A commotion outside. Curiously, I rubbed my eyes and drew open
   the window curtain. We were at the edge of the forest, and the
   sun had disappeared behind dark clouds. It sounded like several
   of the horses had spooked, and the riders were trying to convince
   them to calm down again.

   I pulled the crystalline globe from my pocket. The inner core of
   it had turned completely dark.

   The princess scowled. "Why did you bring that thing, anyway? What
   if it's leading us into a trap or something?"

   I considered the idea. "No, I don't believe it is," and put it
   back in my pocket.

   Gently, I lifted Sylvia from my lap and threw open the door,
   clamboring out into the cold, soles of my boots hard against the
   brittle stony trail, now barely wide enough for the carriage.

   Encircling us, towering overhead, dark leaves of the forest
   canopy occluded the light of the sky, which itself was overcast
   with ominous grey. High above, a large, black bird with ragged
   wings disappeared into the foliage. I peered as deeply as I could
   between the branches, but could discern only darkness. An eerie
   silence lingered uneasily all around, clung to the chilly breeze.
   The prickling sensation of unseen eyes watching from the
   concealed depths. I shivered.

   Poor Vianne was going crazy, stomping and pacing. I strode over
   and took her halter from the page who was struggling with her as
   well as her own horse. One of the horses had bolted, running back
   the way we came, and its rider was attempting to persuade it to
   return to the group.

   I turned to Roderick. "You're still sure you don't want to go the
   other way?"

   "Ah lad, you worry too much. We've got plenty of foul weather
   gear. We c'n handle it. The horses just caught a bit of a fright
   from the thunder, that's all."

   As if on cue, another thunderclap roared, closer than the last.

   I continued to soothe Vianne, standing beside her, talking
   softly. She whinnied, and stamped impatiently, jingling the reins
   as she shook her head.

   "This horse has seen a few things," I said quietly. "She doesn't
   just spook at nothing."

   Roderick scratched his chin thoughtfully. Then he turned, yelling
   out to his men and women: "Chainmail, all of you. Secure the
   perimeter!"

   Amid grumbles of protest, they broke out the chest containing the
   body armor, and suited up, amid the slinking sound of linked tiny
   metal rings.

   And a voice cried out: "How long till we get there?"

                                                          Chapter 11

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