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Maple Walnut #17. Out in the Open
Story : knights
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1262
Word Count : 1060
Lyssa and Ski report back to the knights for the first time after the battle. Same day, though a bit earlier, as apology. I'm seriously wondering how many people haven't caught me yet that might now.
“Well, if it isn’t the pair of ghosts themselves.” A dozen pairs of eyes set on the two of them as they strode into the chamber.
“Honored Council,” said Ski, halting before them with as much of a bow as one could manage with an infant strapped over her breast. Lyssa hung behind her sister, her bow more full, though no less shaky.
The gathered elders turned among themselves, looks and whispers passing between them. “This had best be good,” said one to another, and Lyssa’s teeth grated together as she pressed her jaw more firmly shut.
“We come,” said Ski, and she paused to pat her bundle as a whimper broke the air. “We come to report on the battle at Kalas.”
One grey head raised itself from the lot, and Lady Selina cast them a stern appraisal. “You take a full year to come forth?”
Still stroking and rocking the squirming child, Ski did her best to nod. “We were waylaid,” she said.
“That much is clear.” Lady Merrin regarded Ski and her fussing bundle down the length of her nose, and Lyssa’s hand strayed to the hilt at her hip.
“By the necromancers,” said Ski, over another soft snuffle. “Though, yes, there were other matters.”
The congregation buzzed, a flurry of disapproving looks on stern and wrinkled faces.
“You should be thankful for your mother’s absence.”
“When she finds out-”
Lyssa’s fingers skimmed over the pommel, clenching at the air about the weapon, all her efforts focused on not incinerating various portions of the room, while Ski grew progressively paler and more drawn.
“It will serve her right, the way she’s let them both run about unchecked all these years.”
“It is not your concern,” said Ski, veins all but bursting from her forehead. She forced her gaze to the silent woman at the center of the table, an unspoken plea for assistance as she fought to steady her voice.
“No,” said Merrin, drawing Ski‘s attention back to her, “the fort you left undefended is our concern.”
“Some captain she proved to be,” said another, with a grin to one of her fellows, “left the fort as easily breeched as herself.”
“Kept the walls as tight as her legs.”
“This, Kinari,” said Lady Selina, to the only member of the group yet to open her mouth, “is why children should not be made to lead squadrons.”
Merrin shoved past her, leaning elbows heavily on the table, to fix Ski with a vicious grin. “Did you take your lover with you when you ran or leave him to die with the rest?”
Flushed and quivering, Ski’s jaw fell. Lyssa’s grip closed over her sword and the metal flared hot and cold against her palm. One step brought her in line with her sister and the baby. “Leave her be,” she said. “The baby’s mine.”
Mouth still open and eyes wide, Ski turned on her. “Lyssa-” She brushed her off with a wave and continued forward.
“Call me what you will,” she said to the row of smug faces now turned her way. “I’ve heard it before, and I‘m sure my mother can be far more creative than the lot of you when it comes to insults. We came here to talk about the necromancers.”
“The ones you let take the fort,” said Selina.
“They took the fort,” Ski found her voice again. She cast Lyssa a look she couldn’t begin to decipher and laid a hand over the one still fondling the sword. Lyssa relinquished her grasp and forced a smile. “They did not take what they came for,” she continued to the council.
“Which is?” said Merrin.
“Not your concern,” said Ski.
“Of course,” said another.
“Another excuse so you could flee.”
“We took care of what we had to,” said Ski, her arms tightening around Mara.
“For your whore of a sister and some soldier’s bastard, you ran with your tail between your legs and left your fellows to perish.” Lady Inari rose from her seat, a steely look set on both of them.
Lyssa ‘s eyes fell to the floor. Her sister swallowed hard, her lip trembling as she returned the woman’s stare. “I did not leave Farran,” said Ski. Lyssa edged closer, slid an arm around her, and found it quickly shrugged off. “I did not leave any of them. But if that is how it must be seen, so be it. I did this, not for Lyssa, nor for Mara, nor myself. We had something far more important to keep from their hands.”
The baby gave another whimper and she shuffled from one foot the the other to soothe her as she continued. “What matters now is that this is not over. This was a calculated assault. Whatever the looks of it, it was a failure. They will try again.” She paused to study the row of faces solemnly fixed on her. “You can no longer afford to pretend they are not real.”
Hushed responses passed among the women. Of course they recognized the threat. What did these children take them for? A shame to see the knighthood come to this. Lyssa found her hand hovering near her sword again. Looks of disbelief, of indignation shot their way, but no one openly voiced a protest.
“What the cult seeks,” said Kinari, the first words she had spoken throughout the ordeal. “Is it safe?”
“It is,” said Ski. “I can tell you neither how nor where, but it is safe. For now.”
The woman nodded slowly. “For now will have to do,” she said. “We shall have to discuss your punishment.”
Lyssa’s jaw fell. “For- But-” She lunged towards the table, and Ski’s hand closed around her arm, dragging her back. “She said it was safe!”
A few called, angrily, for her silence, and Ski gave her arm a tug.
Kinari turned her quiet gaze on Lyssa. “A fort has been lost, to demons, no less. I am not about, simply for the sake of your hides, to tell the people why. No knowledge of what the necromancers seek is to leave those who already possess it.”
Lyssa gritted her teeth and held her retort.
“Am I understood?”
Ski’s grip on her arm tightened. “Yes,” she said. Mute, Lyssa nodded, and, under Kinari’s glare, the rest of the room offered its much labored consent.
Story : knights
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1262
Word Count : 1060
Lyssa and Ski report back to the knights for the first time after the battle. Same day, though a bit earlier, as apology. I'm seriously wondering how many people haven't caught me yet that might now.
“Well, if it isn’t the pair of ghosts themselves.” A dozen pairs of eyes set on the two of them as they strode into the chamber.
“Honored Council,” said Ski, halting before them with as much of a bow as one could manage with an infant strapped over her breast. Lyssa hung behind her sister, her bow more full, though no less shaky.
The gathered elders turned among themselves, looks and whispers passing between them. “This had best be good,” said one to another, and Lyssa’s teeth grated together as she pressed her jaw more firmly shut.
“We come,” said Ski, and she paused to pat her bundle as a whimper broke the air. “We come to report on the battle at Kalas.”
One grey head raised itself from the lot, and Lady Selina cast them a stern appraisal. “You take a full year to come forth?”
Still stroking and rocking the squirming child, Ski did her best to nod. “We were waylaid,” she said.
“That much is clear.” Lady Merrin regarded Ski and her fussing bundle down the length of her nose, and Lyssa’s hand strayed to the hilt at her hip.
“By the necromancers,” said Ski, over another soft snuffle. “Though, yes, there were other matters.”
The congregation buzzed, a flurry of disapproving looks on stern and wrinkled faces.
“You should be thankful for your mother’s absence.”
“When she finds out-”
Lyssa’s fingers skimmed over the pommel, clenching at the air about the weapon, all her efforts focused on not incinerating various portions of the room, while Ski grew progressively paler and more drawn.
“It will serve her right, the way she’s let them both run about unchecked all these years.”
“It is not your concern,” said Ski, veins all but bursting from her forehead. She forced her gaze to the silent woman at the center of the table, an unspoken plea for assistance as she fought to steady her voice.
“No,” said Merrin, drawing Ski‘s attention back to her, “the fort you left undefended is our concern.”
“Some captain she proved to be,” said another, with a grin to one of her fellows, “left the fort as easily breeched as herself.”
“Kept the walls as tight as her legs.”
“This, Kinari,” said Lady Selina, to the only member of the group yet to open her mouth, “is why children should not be made to lead squadrons.”
Merrin shoved past her, leaning elbows heavily on the table, to fix Ski with a vicious grin. “Did you take your lover with you when you ran or leave him to die with the rest?”
Flushed and quivering, Ski’s jaw fell. Lyssa’s grip closed over her sword and the metal flared hot and cold against her palm. One step brought her in line with her sister and the baby. “Leave her be,” she said. “The baby’s mine.”
Mouth still open and eyes wide, Ski turned on her. “Lyssa-” She brushed her off with a wave and continued forward.
“Call me what you will,” she said to the row of smug faces now turned her way. “I’ve heard it before, and I‘m sure my mother can be far more creative than the lot of you when it comes to insults. We came here to talk about the necromancers.”
“The ones you let take the fort,” said Selina.
“They took the fort,” Ski found her voice again. She cast Lyssa a look she couldn’t begin to decipher and laid a hand over the one still fondling the sword. Lyssa relinquished her grasp and forced a smile. “They did not take what they came for,” she continued to the council.
“Which is?” said Merrin.
“Not your concern,” said Ski.
“Of course,” said another.
“Another excuse so you could flee.”
“We took care of what we had to,” said Ski, her arms tightening around Mara.
“For your whore of a sister and some soldier’s bastard, you ran with your tail between your legs and left your fellows to perish.” Lady Inari rose from her seat, a steely look set on both of them.
Lyssa ‘s eyes fell to the floor. Her sister swallowed hard, her lip trembling as she returned the woman’s stare. “I did not leave Farran,” said Ski. Lyssa edged closer, slid an arm around her, and found it quickly shrugged off. “I did not leave any of them. But if that is how it must be seen, so be it. I did this, not for Lyssa, nor for Mara, nor myself. We had something far more important to keep from their hands.”
The baby gave another whimper and she shuffled from one foot the the other to soothe her as she continued. “What matters now is that this is not over. This was a calculated assault. Whatever the looks of it, it was a failure. They will try again.” She paused to study the row of faces solemnly fixed on her. “You can no longer afford to pretend they are not real.”
Hushed responses passed among the women. Of course they recognized the threat. What did these children take them for? A shame to see the knighthood come to this. Lyssa found her hand hovering near her sword again. Looks of disbelief, of indignation shot their way, but no one openly voiced a protest.
“What the cult seeks,” said Kinari, the first words she had spoken throughout the ordeal. “Is it safe?”
“It is,” said Ski. “I can tell you neither how nor where, but it is safe. For now.”
The woman nodded slowly. “For now will have to do,” she said. “We shall have to discuss your punishment.”
Lyssa’s jaw fell. “For- But-” She lunged towards the table, and Ski’s hand closed around her arm, dragging her back. “She said it was safe!”
A few called, angrily, for her silence, and Ski gave her arm a tug.
Kinari turned her quiet gaze on Lyssa. “A fort has been lost, to demons, no less. I am not about, simply for the sake of your hides, to tell the people why. No knowledge of what the necromancers seek is to leave those who already possess it.”
Lyssa gritted her teeth and held her retort.
“Am I understood?”
Ski’s grip on her arm tightened. “Yes,” she said. Mute, Lyssa nodded, and, under Kinari’s glare, the rest of the room offered its much labored consent.