Rumor, the great ill, from small beginnings grows:
Swift from the first; and ev'ry moment brings
New vigor to her flights, new pinions to her wings.
Soon grows the pigmy to gigantic size;
Her feet on earth, her forehead in the skies.
Enraged against the gods, revengeful Earth
Produced her last of the Titanian birth.
Swift is her walk, more swift her winged haste:
A monstrous phantom, horrible and vast.
As many plumes as raise her lofty flight,
So many piercing eyes enlarge her sight;
Millions of opening mouths to Rumor belong,
And ev'ry mouth is furnished with a tongue,
And round with list'ning ears the flying plague is hung.
She fills the peaceful universe with cries;
No slumbers ever close her wakeful eyes;
By day, from lofty tow'rs her head she shews,
And spreads thro' trembling crowds disastrous news;
With court informers haunts, and royal spies;
Things done relates, not done she feigns, and mingles truth with
lies.
Talk is her business, and her chief delight
To tell of prodigies and cause affright.
--Vergil, Aeneid, Book IV
=====================
Middas, Tenth day of Sun's Height, in the 472nd year since the founding
of Tagrana*
Castle Molentia on the Isles of Myst, approximately 8:00 AM local time.
=====================
Janessa had left the castle in a rage the previous evening, perhaps even
while he and Loreli had been speaking in the library. Her abrupt
disappearance had only added more fuel to the fire that powered the
castle's already active rumormill. Mutually contradictory rumors about
the identity of the woman with whom the Alesian had been caught in the
garden seemed to arise of their own volition and spread throughout the
castle with astonishing speed. In less than thirty six hours, every
woman in the castle except Janessa herself was alleged to be Corvarath's
secret mistress. Wild tales of a violent argument between the Queen and
her future spouse grew wilder with each retelling. Half the castle was
sure that the spell that the Alesians had cast over their Queen had been
broken, and the Emperor's son would soon be driven out of the castle and
flee to his homeland with his tail between his legs. Discretion was
rapidly approaching danger of extinction within the castle walls as the
seeds of chaos Charlena had sown were bearing fruit.
"It was the new Lord Marshall, I'm positive of it. That canopy out in
the garden was set up for his meeting with her. He was probably
examining her qualifications for the...position." The feminine voice on
the other side of the door paused for effect, and a chorus of giggles
quickly filled in the silence.
The voice continued on, louder than before, and tinged with barely
contained laughter." "Perhaps he asked her to show him just how loyal a
servant of the crown she really was..." There was another fit of
giggling from within the sitting room, which only inspired the speaker
to greater boldness. "You know, they say that she spent a century
travelling the world, learning exotic secrets of lovemaking in foreign
countries..."
The doors to the sitting room were thrown open, revealing the Alesian
prince who'd been listening on the other side. The anger that had been
simmering within him since the ghost had attacked him in the gardens had
finally reached its boiling point, and his eyes were ablaze with
undiluted fury.
"It seems he couldn't keep up with her though. They say he was so worn
out when she was through that he couldn't even pull up his pa--" The
speaker, one of the Queen's Ladies in Waiting by the name of Josephine,
suddenly fell silent as the doors flew open. The Alesian barbarian in
the doorway had fixed his murderous gaze upon her, and she couldn't help
but think of the whispers circulating around the castle that he
sacrificed infants to the Alesian gods every morning in his private
chapel in the castle.
Corvarath had singled out the source of voice he'd heard making
scandalous accusations against him, and was rapidly crossing the room
toward her. Were he in Charnath, he would have hauled her down to the
dungeons and had her tongue cut out and the wound seared shut with a
red-hot iron for such behavior.
"I see that you have nothing better to do with your time than spread
scandals and lies for the amusement of your friends. I cannot fathom how
your Mistress can stand such insolent and disloyal servants, but if you
cannot seem to hold your tongue, perhaps I ought to teach you how."
He began speaking in a strange tongue, which Josephine initially
misinterpreted as a continuation of his harangue in his native,
barbarian tongue. His words had a strange, musical cadence to them,
however, and the gestures that accompanied them were oddly fluid, almost
like a conductor directing a symphony rather than an engraged monster.
Suddenly, Josephine felt her throat tighten and her tongue go numb.
Panicked, she screamed, or at least tried to. Try as she might, she
could make no sound come forth from her mouth. Corvarath left without
another word, leaving the other startled Ladies and Waiting to tend to
their afflicted friend, or run to find help for her.
---------------------
Note:
* Wednesday, July 10th, 2002
----
"Where have you ever seen or heard that a knight-errant was brought
before a judge, no matter how many homicides he may have committed?" --
Don Quixote (Pt. 1, Ch. X)
--
To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
Archives & Other DMI Lists: http://islesofmyst.com/lists.php3
