The Diadem Daise-Chapter II

Chapter II1

Storms of Sorrow2

Kalyphthra strutted to the gatehouse. Her furtive glares of suspicion screwing into every object her eyes made out. She yet, did not wield her maids switch, and now, she even longed for her fur garb, yes, if not for the benumbing cold, then for the protection of onlookers. She could not walk without fear. Not breath, it was in her heart now, and could never be cut out. 3

The clearing, the thirty-foot earthwork, a barrier of lifted land that circled the entire castle and other fortifications; she crossed it with a low chin. Longbowmen and spearguards dotted the battlements. She began to mutter, They be my men. They cannot harm, I now rule... If that had offered a slash of comfort, tenfold was then ripped away by the face she encountered at the gatehouse.4

"Eh, Oh, eh..." and the man bowed.5

He had the category of appearance that would have damned her maid to squall. His teeth were doubled the length ones ought to be, his tongue even lengthier. And yet, his eyes and hair tore her attention to him the most. Though she swore by God, she hated it. Every hair of his was white. So white and straight it was inexcusable.6

Hag. It was all she could ponder. And, why and how could one as that be her gatekeeper?7

"Yea must write what I indite." she said, properly displacing her fears with eerily coming orders.8

He attempted a reply but it was not near comprehensible, he ripped an, he hoped, clear parchment from his belt and slammed it to the small desk inside his booth.9

"Written to Sir Dythur Daystar."10

The gatekeeper unsheathed a quill from a barrel and wrote.11

"Yea said before that yea did know who would settle the death of Magehand. Yea predicted the letter I would receive. The way the death was to be.12

Forgive the doubt I gave yea, yet, now we must meet. I must know. Would I soon follow, yea know more of the assasin then I do. If yea feel it in your heart, to aid your queen, in the way she knows yea can, let nothing disturb you, come to the Feast of the Queen, the night before my coronation. On the twentieth sunrise of the present month."13

She ended and sighed but not too visibly. 14

The next divsions of her plan were not yet whole. But at the moment she knew what to do. Her thin hands pulled from her Death Dress a thick scrip that did not jingle with coins but did contain them.15

"With this," she ordered slowly, loosing a red-gold coin to the counter.16

"Have it sent to Sir Idyn Kaudor of Fen Sanctum." 17

She stabbed through his monstrous eyes, searching for a morsel of treachery, a hint of fear.18

None.19

Yet, it did not morph her into a Queen that felt any kinder or trustful of him.20

He be a Reddrudge.21

"By way of mishap." she concluded her order and appearance with a royal smile and swung the scrip back into a fold of her dress.22

"Rain falls,23

The Lightning flashes,24

Wind calls,25

The wave still crashes.26

Terror has thriven27

No hope is given...28

Snow screams,29

Fire blackens,30

A rushing stream,31

It never slackens,32

Yet, the cry of the dying,33

Shrieks on forever,34

It begins from vying,35

T'wilt never dissever,36

Blades slash,37

Blood then gushes,38

Bones smash,39

Away life rushes..."40

The dirge died at her lips. Away life rushes... she fell to the stone, her dress protecting her. Tears flowed, her flesh was ridden in grief. The sun was not enough to brighten anything comparing her dispear. Dozens of flames stabbed high in the hearth, it reflected itself on her face and fist.41

"Protect me..." she weeped, and it endured.42

At the death of the third nite-hour; the flames burnt low, she adjourned from the stone, rising from a near, deathbed. Sir Idyn Kaudor, if not him then none. He deadened Magehad, Gadun. She reclined to her bed, a courser of bale dashing through her anew. It never died.43

And now, now he would falsely understand that Dythur Daystar had known. She extracted the scrip, loosed out the crimson coinage and held it deplorably.44

Dythur Daystar would not die, yet, she knew and hoped that Idyn Kaudor would attempt something, an assasination, a apprehension.45

"Dythur would ablate both efforts." she breathed. Hope and trust glinting slightly in her eyes. And then, I would know for certain; Idyn's designs, his end.46

A whit of her heart gave her the mind that the plan might not have been well. Dythur would agree. Yet, he would forgive her, being the last of her thin line of kith.47

She had no kin remaining.48

One day and I wilt know.49

Lightning lashed the ground hungrily, rain impinged, and in the setting sun's light, it looked red.50

She looked skyward, in horror.51

There was yet another sword to her throat she could not disregard. The Glaathyn host. It could not seem virtual to her. Not even a dream. It was less real then a spectre in mist. Her, abruptly queen, and of a domain of dragons. Now sieged by a thousand year foe.  52

Emperor Glerriod the Red Blade had passed out of existence a fortnight ago, it did but naught. She felt no less bleak, dismal.53

His successor was of her years, seventeen and ten thousand times more pernicious. Emperor Glerriod II. She saw his coal hued eyes and silvered crown. A falchion and his dragon scaled mantle. In that moment the numbers of her dragons languished in her mind, she soon forgot...54

...and gave in to a dream of death...55

...it came from the South...56

Nhera Moonscale. She was sheen and thin. The Lady, the Harbinger, the Killer. It was unfitting and odd that the one she wished to deaden the most she could not.57

Sryn Kreuwth, the forewoman of the First City Council. 58

It be her that had assasined Gadun Magehand, she exited his quarters the nite he vanished, said he fell by his will.59

It was she that wished for I, to be killed. She detatched the throat cutters, her, the whole of the Council. And that was why Gadun forsook them, and so they murdered...She believed...60

Yekar Magehand had begun a eternal slumber. Eyes can never really be open, unless they are cut. And so hers were, it could be whispered that she died with her eyes open, and it would be true. Rippling blood was her blanket and her unending dream was of murder. A blade had cut her, a blade that left a mark only, that blade could leave. She had walked this path, it lead to the Elduim Passage, and had been killed. Slashed. Deadened.61

The square, now overfilling with rain, was desolate. Save a man, dark and armed. He was garbed in a swarthy cuirass and thick gauntlets and sollerets. His helm was white, his eyes turquoise behind. 62

"Curse yea, Magehand."63

The hushed imprecation came quite and bitter. His lips took a vile twist and so did his metalic wrist.64

A fulgurant light, white as bone flashed.65

A word uncomprehendable.66

A dragons roar cracked through the air.67

The man was gone. 68

She dashed through the sunlight. A thin horse fell coat about her, the Dress of Death beneath. Her smile was authentic and complete, her eyes did not contradict it.69

The candle wood trees that guarded the sides of the path stood in their stations more beautifull then they seemed to have in days. There were no crows. Her way to the sun was clear and green. She had no intentions of blenching now. She felt free of that.70

And then, her maids traversing over a carpet she had just besmirched brought her back to her chamber.71

And her horror.72

Her eyelids opened but she settled against further movement. This was the last horrible day until her feast. Had there been anything she was to do? She could not recall. She had made the impotunant configurations...73

...she need do nothing against waiting...silently...74