"...Sweet little fighter
Sweet little
scar
Sweet little fire
in my heart
And if I fall, I will find a way
back to my hands
I'm the only one who can help me find my feet again..."
The men of the current
Brookshire guard roster greeted their Captain's return as if he was the bloody
Duke himself. If ever there was evidence needed to indicate whether Rue Denali
had made any improvements since taking on the long-neglected role in late summer, one had only to
look to these men's faces as they cheered and cajoled Rue with tales of what had
happened in his unexpected absence. They might not love him, but he had their
respect and when it came to this kind of work, that was what mattered
most.
The Gilfornik's runaway goat, the local merchants' petition over
sewage in the streets, and the unsolved mystery of the midnight bard's
identity--all these tales held humourous slants that allowed
Rue to hold aside the more pressing issues in his mind, if only for a moment.
Perhaps they'd all been admonished by someone not to do so, but as green as some
of the men were in their ranks,
they wisely avoided asking the
Captain questions about his ordeal with the Wyvern on his first evening back
among them.
As one of the men stood up to give an impression of the
yet-uncaught midnight bard, or Brookshire Bastard as he was fast growing to be
known, strumming a guitar against his chest and yodeling quite offkey, Rue
glanced at the faces of the men all gathered around a tankard-laden table at the
better of the two pubs, The Hart. These were good men, honest, hard-working, but
most of them were former farmers less than a year ago. Good with a hunter's bow,
good with an axe on wood, but they've never fought hand to hand in anything but
games, training, and the odd drunken brawl. And why should they have? They'd
lived their lives on the good Duke Branton's land during the peaceful reign of
King Redbeard Molentia.
Hell, if Rue hadn't been hauled off on two trips
to Outer Arangoth to battled the mighty darkness of Tahkisis, he'd not have much more field experience
then his men. But then the Royal Mystonian Guards weren't an army; they were the
Queen's local divisions of
enforcement to ensure peace and lawfulness among the isle's
citizenry.
And there Rue sat thinking thoughts a man thinks when he's
glimpsed an unpleasant future and doesn't want to be caught flat-footed. "...I
swore an oath to protect this Isle and so help me gods or devils stand aside,
for I aim to do that with all the blood left flowing through me...I've two children on the way and I'll not leave them
a land overrun by terror..." his own words spoken a few days ago came flooding back to him
as he stood up, leaning heavily on the table until he gathered the wooden cane
into his steady hand.
Making an excuse that
he wanted to check on his horse, and all the men knowing well how Rue fretted
about that lughead of a steed, no one questioned his departure from the rowdy
welcoming party.
~*~
Rue fingered the small tin case in his
trouser pocket as he slowly navigated his way across the village square and down
the lane to the three-room Brookshire guardhouse. His horse, Lar, had blown a
warm greeting into the air and pushed his head against Rue's chest. Reassured
that at least his horse had not forgotten him, he continued onward from the
small stable. Each step grew more jarring in his exhaustion
from the trip, yet he resisted using the medicinal aid he'd procured in
MystHaven. Only for those moments that proved unbearable, he told
himself.
Lighting a second lantern from the first that hung blazing at
the entrance, Rue proceeded into the darkened building, past the entry/file room
and the two empty jail cells, and made his way into his office for the first
time in over a month. One of the guardhouse cats gave an inquisitive meow as Rue
leaned down to dare to disturb her. She lounged most possessively in his desk
chair, but there were no mice milling about so the feline obviously thought it
was fair payment.
Setting the lantern down and his cane aside, Rue
scooped the creature into his arms and sat down into the chair with a solid
thud. Entirely disrupted now, the feline hopped onto the desk and paced
indignantly back and forth, mewing out her protest. Rue eyed the mountain of
paperwork and correspondence on his desk as the cat's tail flicked over
his stubbled chin now and
then.
Feeling his exhaustion in the depths of his bones, he uttered to
the feline, "Well there's nothing here that can't wait another 12 hours is
there?" Rue's jaw ached fiercely and the tin case in his pocket seemed to burn a
hole in his trousers. Just then the cat purred, turning to rub her whiskered
cheek against the stack of papers, and dislodged several rolled parchments from
the order Evin had obviously tried to build there.
Rue picked up the two
that fell to the floor and studied them. One had Brin's neatly scripted
handwriting on the edge spelling out his
name. Rummaging in the top desk drawer past all his personal artifacts,
one of which was her previous letter with the lock of her fiery red hair, he seized upon the letter
opener. Rue broke the seal, unrolled the parchment, and revealed words written
more than 30 days ago. Rue could have sworn the paper still smelled faintly of
strawberries, but perhaps it was just his memories haunting him.
The big
ink blotch near his name drew his tired eyes first, but then he felt as if the
words leapt right off the page and struck him in the center of his chest. His
vision blurred a bit as he tried to read all that was there and a loud whooshing
noise pounded in his ears; it was his heartbeat rising like the tide on a full
moon.
~....the fact that you are the
father of these children...Upon the birth of the twins...I will have the midwife
take them...and give them to a wet nurse. She will then take them to Brookshire
where they will be handed over to you....~
The prominent phrases
whirled through him as he dropped the parchment to the desk and one hand dug
into his pocket with a sudden panic against the rising emotional and physical
pain that consumed him. Just then, there
wasn't time to make laudanum.
~...all that I ask is that you let me
see them from time to time...to let them know that it was me that gave them
birth....I don't know if this is the right decision. But it's my final
one....~
Sliding open the tin case, he dug his index finger into the
powdery substance and then brought the
coated tip of his finger to
his open mouth. His taste buds fought against the bitterness as he placed the
drug beneath his tongue and closed his eyes to let it take
effect.
~*~
His attempts to formulate a response
were numerous and spoke of his mixed-up state,
spurned by the not unpleasant numbness in his legs. Pages of parchment with a line or two were strewn everywhere...
Brin,
It's the curse speakin'
thru yer words. Are ye nae followin' my Aunt's advice? Why, why,
why?
Ms. Winter,
Your
decision is one I fully understand
and accept.
Brinnie,
Don't you know that I love you? Would you please
stop being ridiculous and do me the honour of marrying my-hideous-self instead
of that golden reptile?
These attempts were interrupted by two separate and thorough searches through the mountain of unread items to ensure that there wasn't another missive from Brin, or Lani for that matter. Resigned that there was nothing further, Rue struggled again to etch out a reply in his current mindset instead of sleeping upon it.
The final effort was the one he sent at
dawn addressed specifically to Brin by guard messenger on the fastest
mount, riding hard over the half-day's distance to the outlands of MystHaven and
Andor Cole's remote residence.
24th January
Dearest Brin,
Just read your letter tonight. 'though I'm not
one for letter-writin' much, I've been unintentionally detained this time and
beg your mercy--if a pregnant woman has any to spare the poor sap who asks. Are
you and the bairns doing well? The thought of the three of you is often a
saving grace during the long blackness that continues to curse me.
As this stubborn mule has not ever listened to you, for which I hope some day you'll forgive me, you've a right to question if I would do so now. But I vow I will Brin. I'll stand by your decision if you still wish it. As you said it was your final one, I reckon you do and I'll not try to talk you into other possibilities.
But I want you to know that it's never been my intention to take the twins from you. After all, they're within you, flesh and blood as much as they're a part of me. I know that. You know that. And we'll make sure that they always know who their mother and father are. None but the gods will take them away from either of us, ever.
Yours always,
Rue
the_____________end
A brief
background on Rue Denali:
http://www.dragonmyst.f2s.com/char/rue.html
"It sounds cold, but it's not cold," he explains. "I
mean, what the truth
in life is, you need failures, you need tough times to
get any kind of
value on what's important to you and what's not. There's no
way around it."
(BP '92)
