II. "Emissary" for Writer's Muses
Judgment, A Story in Six Scenes
I. II. III. IV. V. VI.
There was silence in the great hall as the messenger was allowed to approach the throne. Hundreds of silent monstrosities and the unspeakably beautiful stared at the little man who dared to face the Court of Snow and Shadows. The queen’s eyes were more than black as she gazed upon the human in what she was quite sure was his finest dress. Among the finery and beauty of the Unseelie, he might as well have been wearing rags. Still, he walked with a certain false pride carrying his wrapped offering.
At a hundred feet from the throne armed guards adjusted their weapons just enough to let him know he might come no further. He didn’t notice and kept walking, until a sword point was pressed to his throat. That stopped him in his steps and left him flushing scarlet. He was obviously enraged, but unable to say anything that would not end up with him losing his head. Mab took an undeniable pleasure in that, but waved a hand so the sword was held before him rather than aimed toward his vital regions. Her voice rang to the corners of the hall, “Speak, emissary, while I still remember the old rules of hospitality.”
The little man looked ready to burst into flames from his own wounded dignity and Mab lapped it up like rich cream. She loathed those humans who attempted to wander the realms of magic where they did not belong, different, perhaps, from the wizards and witches who could not help their connection. All they did was bring trouble for themselves and for others around them. Humiliating a representative of one of those groups was a small revenge for those Fae who had been tortured and harmed by those fools. Let the little man pay a little of the great debt.
“I come as a messenger in the old way, protected by law beyond lands or time, you would not harm me.” A ripple of laughter danced through the Court who knew all too well how wrong he was. The man looked almost shaken but took refuge in his snobbery. “I come from the Coven of Human Right with a message regarding the attack upon the land of the Cold Fae.” Another ripple of sound, this one far less pleasant. “My people wish to congratulate the Ice Queen on her nullification of our Consuming Spell and wished to offer her this crown she so honestly deserves.” Before any guard had time to respond, the wrappings fell away and he had thrown a circlet of pure iron with deadly accuracy at the pregnant queen.
Two figures the messenger had thought gargoyles perched above the throne were in the air. The larger white griffin caught the iron circlet and carried it back to her perch behind the throne, always the royal guardian. The smaller black landed, talons and claws first against the man’s chest, knocking the human to ground though he was not yet much more than twenty pounds. Twenty pounds of lion and eagle is more than enough to destroy weak and unprotected human flesh. “Hold!” It was only the queen’s command that kept the little fury from rending his flesh. “Come by, my shadow.” The little black released his catch and slunk to sit at the queen’s side.
Mab was snow pale as she stood, too aware of what would have happened should the pure iron with it’s cutting edge had not been stopped. But her voice did not shake as she spoke. “Take him to the dungeon, his own actions have stripped him of the rights of an emissary. Prepare my tools that he and I might have a more private conversation. And someone find an iron fae to retrieve the circlet.” Turning her back on the stunned audience Mab retreated, followed by her living shadow.
I. II. III. IV. V. VI.
There was silence in the great hall as the messenger was allowed to approach the throne. Hundreds of silent monstrosities and the unspeakably beautiful stared at the little man who dared to face the Court of Snow and Shadows. The queen’s eyes were more than black as she gazed upon the human in what she was quite sure was his finest dress. Among the finery and beauty of the Unseelie, he might as well have been wearing rags. Still, he walked with a certain false pride carrying his wrapped offering.
At a hundred feet from the throne armed guards adjusted their weapons just enough to let him know he might come no further. He didn’t notice and kept walking, until a sword point was pressed to his throat. That stopped him in his steps and left him flushing scarlet. He was obviously enraged, but unable to say anything that would not end up with him losing his head. Mab took an undeniable pleasure in that, but waved a hand so the sword was held before him rather than aimed toward his vital regions. Her voice rang to the corners of the hall, “Speak, emissary, while I still remember the old rules of hospitality.”
The little man looked ready to burst into flames from his own wounded dignity and Mab lapped it up like rich cream. She loathed those humans who attempted to wander the realms of magic where they did not belong, different, perhaps, from the wizards and witches who could not help their connection. All they did was bring trouble for themselves and for others around them. Humiliating a representative of one of those groups was a small revenge for those Fae who had been tortured and harmed by those fools. Let the little man pay a little of the great debt.
“I come as a messenger in the old way, protected by law beyond lands or time, you would not harm me.” A ripple of laughter danced through the Court who knew all too well how wrong he was. The man looked almost shaken but took refuge in his snobbery. “I come from the Coven of Human Right with a message regarding the attack upon the land of the Cold Fae.” Another ripple of sound, this one far less pleasant. “My people wish to congratulate the Ice Queen on her nullification of our Consuming Spell and wished to offer her this crown she so honestly deserves.” Before any guard had time to respond, the wrappings fell away and he had thrown a circlet of pure iron with deadly accuracy at the pregnant queen.
Two figures the messenger had thought gargoyles perched above the throne were in the air. The larger white griffin caught the iron circlet and carried it back to her perch behind the throne, always the royal guardian. The smaller black landed, talons and claws first against the man’s chest, knocking the human to ground though he was not yet much more than twenty pounds. Twenty pounds of lion and eagle is more than enough to destroy weak and unprotected human flesh. “Hold!” It was only the queen’s command that kept the little fury from rending his flesh. “Come by, my shadow.” The little black released his catch and slunk to sit at the queen’s side.
Mab was snow pale as she stood, too aware of what would have happened should the pure iron with it’s cutting edge had not been stopped. But her voice did not shake as she spoke. “Take him to the dungeon, his own actions have stripped him of the rights of an emissary. Prepare my tools that he and I might have a more private conversation. And someone find an iron fae to retrieve the circlet.” Turning her back on the stunned audience Mab retreated, followed by her living shadow.