The King's Hunt

Sleep was out of the question. Mereavus' parting words echoed in his ear like some maddening mantra. Work fast, work fast. His boots thumped out the rhythm as he paced around his quarters, eyes falling on the shubbery his ghostly mother-in-law had pointed out. They are watching. Caoilfhionn's warning of forest spirits, Roselynne's long ago dream, and that one damnable irrefutable moment of savageness .. Sorynn's shattered body. Bloodless limbs and vines ripping into her .. he could see it in painful detail. In all the furious struggle to settle the war-torn country, it had fallen into the background, but now it threatened to suffocate him.

"No.." he whispered to the empty room. He'd missed the threat, the depth of it as he eased into life with his goal met..the throne of Nharati. In war, at least you know your enemy. Complacence was deadly, and ignoring what he could not explain, foolish. He had to know who or what this enemy was.

Feverishly, he tore off the fine clothes he wore about the castle, surcoat, trousers and shirt left scattered across the room. Thanks be that Roselynne had chosen to go to Alexston on this night. He threw on leather trousers, a thick tunic, and a fitted leather coat..simpler clothes more suited to the forest. A leather band held his red hair back, and at his back, he strapped his father's sword, his hand curling tightly around the pommel for a moment. Magic had destroyed him....had torn Valenti from the throne. Had he gotten here only to allow it to be ripped away again? Was he such a coward that he would simply wait until it struck once more?

He slammed his dagger into his belt loop, wrapped a heavy black cloak around his shoulders and stalked from the room. If his guards had been concerned about the occasional murmur in his room and his final call for his dead mother-in-law, the unstoppable fervor on his face now chilled each one to his boots. Without a word, he strode into the atrium and began gathering several small bags of herbs to take with him wishing deperately for any one of the women in his life that understood the way of plants. Why was it now they were all gone? I hope you've taught me well.

At the King's commands, a flurry of activity tore through what should have been halls hushed as the castle's inhabitants fell asleep. Orders for horses to be saddled, two trusted long-time guards awakened, dogs brought into the yard .. it seemed the King was preparing for a midnight hunt, a prospect that had all the more tongues wagging. Who hunted at night?

Out in the yard, the King crouched before the dogs, flashing eyes scrutinizing them as he barked questions at the handlers who tended to be sleepy or drunk..or both. A shaggy little black and white bitch snuck away from her handler to lick the King's hand, the creature wriggling and whimpering with excitement. His blue eyes darted down curiously to her, his broad hand sweeping over her head as she leaned into him. "Don't want 'er, m'liege. Ain't proper trained yet." Indeed, every little bit of distraction in the yard had the dog turning and staring, her body quivering taut as she pressed against the King's leg, but when the handler bent to pick her up, she darted around to the other side of the King, brown eyes lifted to him imploringly.

Quietly, he laughed, his hand falling protectively on the pup's back. "Far be it from me to deny help so eagerly given. I'll take her and those two there." He pointed at the most alert looking of the gathered canines, all of them promptly settled onto longer leads he and his guards lept onto horseback.

Without a backward glance, Drysllthen was off, the two guards on his heels with one protesting that the King ought to allow him to scout ahead. Drysllthen seemed not to hear him as he led the party out of the wall-enclosed portion of the Royal Forest. Deeper they went, the fragile moonlight barely piercing the canopy of trees which even in noonday sun hung in shadow. Crickets chirped and owls hooted, the quiet nightsong rising above the clatter of hooves and the incessant sniffing of the dogs.

The small female lingered near the King, the occasional worried whine offered up toward him as she glanced back toward the castle, seeming to urge them back, but Drysllthen was relentless, the trio and the dogs crisscrossing the forest as he scoured the darkness. Another insistance by Elrid to scout ahead drew a quiet answer from the King. "There is no use in us getting seperated, and I don't know where we're going yet."

"What are we looking for, m'lord?"

"I'll know when I find it." The finality in his tone brooked no further questions, the pair with him old enough to remember his father. They'd gone with him to Leugeilean and back as part of his escort, making certain he didn't forget his Nharati roots and learned of his home while away. "Turn the dogs against the way the wish to go," he instructed quietly, gently guiding the black and white pup to the left despite her insistance to the right. She was slowly herding them back toward the castle. An annoyed scolding yip rose from her at her charge's stubbornness, but when Drysllthen began to go on without her, she scurried to keep up, her ears pinned back.

At times, it was merely avoidance of rough ground that turned the dogs and horses aside, but the occasional whines of the dogs and shying of the horses only strengthened Drysllthen's determination to use the tactic. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the nightsong began to hush. The King's skin prickled as his breathing grew shallow, the fight against the animals growing fiercer.

"Majesty.." He could hear fear in the stalwart guard's voice, echoing the pounding in his mind. Go back. Turn from this place. The earlier mantra tore through the doubts. Work fast. Work fast. His horse balked hard, refusing to go any further in the direction he'd chosen while the dogs whimpered and whined. Tails tucked, the other two scurried to the far end of their leads while the dog that had chosen him barked insistantly. Snapping his fingers, he shushed her, only then realizing the absolute silence that had settled over them. It was from this the chill rose, and he lifted his head to study the forest.

Ahead, he could just see moonlight dipping through the thick trunks. They are watching. They are always watching. Surely here, they all watched. Steeling himself, he swung down from his mount, much to the alarm of his guards, the dog nearly tripping him with the lead in her attempt to shuffle him back. She positively quivered with fear.

"Do you remember what happened to Princess Sorynn?" He asked in a low murmur.

"Yes, Majesty."

"Can't say as I want to think about that here, Majesty." The second breathed. "What are we doing?"

"I.." Drysllthen emphasized the singular. "..am going out there. Into the clearing. You will stay here, but if an attack comes..."

"To the death, Your Majesty." They answered without hesitation.

He nodded, uncertain if they saw him or not. "Let the dogs go back to the castle. Keep the horses." With his reigns handed to the closest, he bent to release the little trembling canine with an affection stroke to her head. "Thank you," he murmured, feeling quite foolish though he was grateful for her help.

With that, he stepped into the darkness, his shoulders squared. His right hand reached back, gripping the pommel of his sword. The second step was more difficult than the first, and the third harder yet, the silence screaming in his ears. His heart threatened to pound through his chest, the King just barely silencing a yelp when he nearly tripped over something.

A downward glance showed a bundle of black and white fur standing directly in front of him, her baleful brown eyes staring up to urge him away. He simply sidestepped her only to find his way blocked again. He fought the hysterical laugh that rose in his throat, staring at the dog in disbelief. "I have to go," he told her. You're talking to a dog. Yes, and soon I'm going to be talking to the forest. Now you're talking to yourself. Stop stalling.

Shaking his head both at the dog and to clear it of the sudden chorus of voices, he simply stepped over her. Agitated by his refusal to be herded, she butted his legs again, but his focus had moved outward, the King stubbornly stalking toward the clearing. Eventually, she gave up her efforts, and Drysllthen assumed she'd gone back.

Stepping into the moonlight, he tilted his gaze up, eyes sweeping over the trees made silver by the dim light, the fall colours muted into blacks and greys. High overhead stars glimmered, and all it took was the look over the place for his hand to fall from his sword. "Beautiful.." he breathed, calmness descending in the strange cool light. His heartrate lowered and breathing steadied as he devoured the shimmering world. They are always watching. I damn well hope they can hear too.

A bump against his legs startled him, distracting the King from his perusal of the midnight world. "You decided to come along, hmm?" He murmured with a small laugh as those brown eyes glared up at him again. Shrugging, he slid down to kneel on the ground, his new-found friend pressing hard against his thigh, her eyes darting frantically over the clearing.

What now?

He rummaged through memories and bits of gathered knowledge, considering the herbs in his pockets. Perhaps a fire would draw attention? No, that was the wrong sort of attention, he was quite certain. Forests would never appreciate fire. Fire was forest's invader, and herbs came from the forest, so what sort of offering was that? He scrubbed his hands through his hair in frustration as he peered down at his companion, but her puzzled look gave him no answers.

Help me, Caoilfhionn.

"You must give what she does not have. Only then is an offering useful." He swore she was at his shoulder, whispering in his ear, but when his head whipped around, he was alone. A memory, some shred of conversation years ago. He could still see their grove, the warm light of it a sharp contrast to this chill place. "And it must be precious, else it is no sacrifice."

At a loss, he sat silent for many long minutes, his hand absently stroking the rough fur of the dog next to him, the pup resting with her head on his lap, still save for the occasional flick of her tail. A silence so pure inhabited the tiny clearing that the King scarcely breathed lest he disturb the sacred hush of it. He could not have said when he pulled the dagger from his belt, but as soon as the glittering edge caught the moonlight, he knew. Blood. Sorryn's corpse had been bloodless. It desired blood.

Without hesitation, he sliced the sharp blade across his left palm, concentration such that he made not a sound at the pain that blossomed down his arm. Curling his hand into a fist, he lifted it above the forest floor, the dark red of the droplets coating hovering at the edge of his hand the only colour he could see.

Crouching, he turned in a slow circle, drop after drop of crimson spilling from his fist onto the grass as he whispered. "Speak with me, please." It was no great speech, no flowery words, but a simple request. Over and over, Drysllthen uttered it in every language he knew, his voice strong in Nharatese and Leugish, less certain in another two, and halting in the Old Tongue. "Please. Speak with me."

When the circle was complete, his blood glistening darkly on the grass around him, he sunk to the ground with his legs crossed. He sliced a long strip of cloth from his tunic to staunch the flow from his hand, and he bound it awkwardly as the dog crept into his lap. Together, they sat, the King of Nharati cross-legged with his arms around a mutt while he waited for the forest to speak to him. Please.

[Rest to be RPed.]

Darkness shrouded the room tucked away in the women's wing, its silence only broken from the numerous slumbering breaths from nearly every corner. No doubt dreams or nightmares fluttered through the minds of most all of them. There were a few exceptions however, and one such were staring wide-eyed at the unseen ceiling as if it were a pit waiting for gravity to reverse and draw her in. The former princess Quess Esdale had much in her thoughts and sleepless nights were far from a rarity in her life for many a month now, even before the kingdom fell into new, and dare she say, more capable hands. Yet tonight had held a feeling of dread deeper than most. There was something staring back at her in those shadows, and it wasn't just her fears of Drysllthen's distance or Roselynne's plans or general phobias she battle on a daily basis. No. There was something else, something even worse in the air.

Footsteps suddenly began to shuffle outside the door, whispers sounding like goblins sharpening their blades. Attention was stolen from the abyss hanging above her, glaring with annoyance at the shadowy stalks moving about in the dim lighting under the heavy wooden door until it opened a crack, just enough for a girl's head to peak through it. The figure stared right at her in the vague light then murmured back to her compatriots. No one noticed Quess were watching them in return as they continued their gossiping little titters in the doorway. One raised her voice just a sliver for a tone to be recognized. Amanda's. Her maidservant. A slight nausea was beginning to settle over her stomach to think one of her only friends was falling among the gossiping crowd. But no doubt some new rumor had been started and perhaps they were trying to pressure her for information on it's truth, right? Yet as the door squeaked gently to shut, she could make out one last whisper that made her brow furrow. "Keep her in the castle."

The sheets were flung to the foot of the bed as she donned the velvety fur blanket like a cloak as freshly slippered feet stormed toward the exit. A voice on the other side remarked about a "he" had sent the Queen away right before she pressed open the door, bumping one of the servants with it. Quess slipped herself through the crack made, staring down Amanda like she accusing of her of some conspiracy while the noble backed against the wood to close it behind her less subtly than they had, "What is going on here?"

"Is nuthin' m'lady." the youngest of the girls offered a curtsy, "Just some commotion out by th'stables and we didn' wanna worry you 'bout Illio. Had nuthin' ta do with'm, 'e's all fine."

The Esdale scrutinized each of the four others in turn before resting on Amanda's eyes. They were lying, or at least projecting a half truth. "What caused the disturbance?" the voice was full of venom, not taking any more bullshit.

Amanda bowed her head shamefully, hands weaved into each other as if pleading with her mistress to not do anything rash, "Please, just go back to bed, m'lady. Everything will be fine by morning. Just wait till then."

Saying things like that weren't helping matters as even more terror filled through her nerves like ink, "Do not make me strike you, Amanda. I demand you tell me this instant." It was no longer a whisper, now a low speaking tone that threatened louder as her brow creased heavily over her eyes.

"The King. E' went huntin', m'lady." the tall raven haired girl who'd been the quietest spoke up first, "That's all. I swear."

Hunting in the middle of the night? Not even Drysllthen was that eccentric. Further panic were building into Quess' eyes as she tightened the fur around her, all the more insistent with her voice, "Hunting what?"

They all were genuinely clueless and helpless as they just shook their heads or shrugged their heads. "He just took a few dogs and a couple men and went to the forest, m'lady." Her thoughts froze her in place. Caoilfhionn was searching then left... he sent the Queen away... he headed to the forest... God no. No no. Not someone else, no.

She spun around and plowed through the door, leaving it open as she dove for her bed. But instead of lying on it, she were grabbing an overdress and her azure riding cloak from the night table, throwing it over her night-wares chemise with little thought to appearances. Please, no. You don't realize what you're doing, Drysllthen. You don't know how powerful it is. With hood tied and the fur trapped under the blues, she marched right past the four who were making gestures to stop her, Amanda even grabbed her shoulder. But Quess would hear none of it, swatting the protective hand away as she strode toward the stairs.

Two guards leaned against the stair walls lazily, discussing family matters with each other when they saw the Esdale and the entourage of young women trailing distantly behind her. She recognized the unshaven and portly fellow as Orville, one who had been one of her escort guards off and on since she'd become a vassal of Valenti. He very good-natured fellow that she could trust her secrets with, one of the few guards she would actually find herself often in conversation with. He leaned toward that line of one that could be called 'friend'. The perfect man to assist her. "Lady Quess?" he leaned himself forward, "What's wrong?"

She merely motioned to him to follow as she descended the stairs passed him. Amanda began bleating like a sheep the vague details to him. To hear it spoken so made her nearly stop in her tracks. This was exactly the sort of thing he warned her about. What if her intuition was wrong and this whole thing had nothing to do with the thing that killed her sister, Sorynn. But she couldn't afford to be right and do nothing.

All this noise and commotion rolling down into the main hall caught a new figure's attention, retired commander Aksel Marillion who wasn't far removed from his last detail of late night trade business with the new Ealdorman of Ygriss. Under normal circumstances, seeing such a gathering may not have been so unusual, but at this hour and the girl in the lead, his former princess, looked dressed to head out into the still cold of early autumn. His voice was every bit as commanding as it had been in her youth, "Where do you think you're going this time of night, your Highness?" He knew it wasn't proper to refer to her as that anymore, but it was a habit he found very hard to break.

It had been sometime since the girl had exercised even the slightest bit of true authority, and she were doing it in droves that night, "His Majesty is in danger. I must prevent him from--"

Orville finally caught up to her now that they were off the stairs, circling an arm around her waist to put a stop to her march and halted her speech mid-sentence. Aksel nodded his approval at the soldier's action as he closed in, being very careful not to take the girl's claims lightly, "Tell me what is going on."

"I do not know. Know one seems to know. Yet he is in danger if he rides out into those woods. He has to come back."

"He is long gone, as I understand it, your Highness. He has men with him, he will be fine. You should go back to your room and rest." He could see the defiance in her eyes, not pleased in the least as was becoming all the more concerned that these rumors that she had a relationship with Drysllthen had some truth to them after all. "Or we can all head to the parlour and wait for his return and you can tell him all about how you went storming through the halls claiming his life was in danger."

"Do NOT patronize me, Commander. I am not a little girl anymore and this is not some matter of fantasy or prank. Lest you forget I am one of the few that saw what killed my sister and he may have found what did it. Now are we going to gather troops and get him back or do I have to do it myself?"

Nothing less than a growl grew in the one-armed former knight's voice as he bowed himself forward to lean himself more to her level, "You will listen to me, your Highness. I still hold an oath to your protection. I could do nothing to be there for your sister and that has haunted me ever since, but what in your crazy head makes you think that even if I thought the King didn't have any better clue than you what he was doing out there that I'd let you get in harm's way. If he is chasing after some monster, he will have all the men he needs to destroy it." He let his words sink in as his intimidating presence continue to loom over her, "Now we can do as one of the two I suggested or I can have these two gentlemen haul you to some empty room to hold you until you are calmed down. Because if you haven't noticed, you are making a scene that won't go unnoticed."

Breaths didn't come easily for her, each one of them forced as that horrid vertigo made the room spin, her anger causing every sort of curse word she'd ever heard gather on her tongue until she nearly choked from them. He didn't have the authority to order the guards, no, but they would certainly abide by the suggestion. Realization for the chaos she had caused, however small it was still yet, was quickly welling up guilt, drowning the fury under it. He had told her, warned her angrily even, not to let her emotions get the better of her. And even if she felt every rhyme and reason for it this time, it didn't negate the truth that she was going against his wishes.

As her eyes reddened and her shoulders slumped, the eldest male gently wrapped his good hand around the back her neck so that his forehead pressed gently to hers. "How about we head to the parlour for a drink."

She nodded slowly, fighting back the sobs that were binding her throat. Orville eased his hold of her and helped guide her back to the stairs as Aksel stopped the maidservant, the sandy-haired Amanda turned with subservience as the commander mentioned to put a sedative into her drink, be it tea or alcohol. Even if it had to be something strong enough to put her to sleep. Whether she were right or not about the risks to the King, he'd not have her suffer through the night for it. Lastly, the second guard he slipped a word with the find his superior and let whoever was in charge of the King's retainers knew that there may be a threat to the King's life. A choice he hoped wouldn't return to haunt him, so close to his own ambitions sealed.

Quess felt heavy as she climbed back up those stairs, parting through the other three girls and the watchful eyes of other servants and guards about the hall who had turned attention to the uproar, she felt like a fool on parade. And yet... a dual voice of heart and subconscious were both screaming at her to turn around and not let them do this. Orville's hand pressed to the small of her back to keep her moving, apparently she had slowed on the stairs to nearly a crawl. If anything happens to him, I shall never forgive any of you. Her threat was unspoken, but it gave mental word to the rage. Her narrowed tearful eyes turned toward the bricks in the walls facing the forest as Orville continued to guide her toward the parlor, a piercing whine drilling into her skull that made her head tremor. So much as touch him...