Gunpowder Knight
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Posted it.
###
The League of Source had a good purpose: Keep eyeless redheaded girl children from blowing themselves and most of the surrounding countryside into particulate matter.
The only problem, Key thought, was the League didn't notice the children under their care had turned into adults. Either that or they didn't care.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou shouldn't do this, Key.├óÔé¼┬Ø The League messenger floated above the operating table. It looked like a stylized monkey with wide, grinning lips. ├óÔé¼┼ôMamma will be angry.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh bugger off.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key dangled the shoelace above Alex's chest. The wound in his body wasn't the worst Key had seen in all her born days. The burns Ghost Light could inflict on those that used it improperly was immensely worse. But the deep puncture had an eerie, disgusting allure all to itself.
The Messenger didn't bugger off. instead, it started floating upside down, it's grin getting wider. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat's not how nice little girls should talk.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Key sometimes wished she had eyes purely to roll them. She started to gather Ghost Light.
├óÔé¼┼ôKey, if you do this, Mamma will be very angry.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Key flicked her wrist and sent a small ball of Ghost Light through the Messenger's forehead. It exploded in a poof of Ghost Light, the whispery fragments retaining parts of the Messenger's body. Key grabbed them with her free hand and shoved them into the gathering Ghost Light that started to suffuse the shoelace.
├óÔé¼┼ôThere we go,├óÔé¼┬Ø She grinned. She started to wiggle the shoelace above Alex's body. Alex's body started to wiggle back. Key bit her lip, wiggling harder. Alex started to shake. Key spoke a word that flexed time.
Alex sat up, gasping in a huge lungful of air. He made a sound like someone with a hole through his chest, then thumped back down. Key put her hand over the wound and forced Ghost Light into it. Alex screamed, loudly.
And then it was over. Key sagged to her knees, panting heavily. Alex cracked an eye open.
├óÔé¼┼ôAm I dead?├óÔé¼┬Ø He rasped, his voice sounding like someone had sandpapered his throat for a week.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes...but you're getting better.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key grinned. Alex groaned and closed his eyes.
A day later, and Alex was sitting in a chair. A wheeled chair. He ran his palms over the wheels, frowning.
├óÔé¼┼ôLike it?├óÔé¼┬Ø Key stepped into the tent, ducking beneath the tent flap. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's for invalids, yes, but I managed to grab one.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt's...better...than...├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex wheezed. ├óÔé¼┼ôDead.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYour voice will return to normal in a few weeks.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key walked around behind Alex and started pushing him forward. He let go of the wheels in a hurry. She pushed him out of the tent and onto the streets of Shrillbore. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe other symptoms of death, however, might never fully go away. You have a pretty good chance of walking again, but running, shooting, fighting, or working hard...├óÔé¼┬Ø She shook her head. ├óÔé¼┼ôNot quite as likely.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow good a chance?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex rasped, looking up at her.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh seventy something.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key started pushing him faster, the wheels squelching through the mud of the streets. A few snowflakes had started to drift down from the sky, which was a troubled gray.
Alex looked around at the city. Occupation didn't agree with it. The Silverbacks looked sullen and the Imperial Constables that had taken over for the Knights that had left were a bit...fat. Alex gulped and regretted it. His throat felt like it had been sandpapered.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo, we've sent out a letter to your family, telling them that the whole 'you are dead' thing was a clerical error.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key said as she pushed him to the edge of the city. A few wagons sat there with Knights who had missing limbs sitting on crates of letters and sacks of whatever tribute the Imperial Governors had scared out of the Silverback cities and towns under Imperial control.
The wounded Knights and the loot were about equal. Key grunted, pushing the wheeled chair up onto the wagon. She locked it down with some straps.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou two,├óÔé¼┬Ø She pointed at a Knight missing his left hand and a Knight who's right leg ended at the hip. ├óÔé¼┼ôMake sure Alex doesn't fall outta the chair.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes ma'am.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight without the hip said, tipping his head. The other Knight just saluted.
├óÔé¼┼ôWait, Key-├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex held up his hand as Key turned to leave. She stopped, looking over her shoulder. ├óÔé¼┼ôThanks.├óÔé¼┬Ø
She grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôSee ya when you get back. Oh, and uh-├óÔé¼┬Ø She walked back to one of the letter crates. She patted it. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're painting is in there.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex grinned for the first time since his reawakening.
├óÔé¼┼ôSent a letter to your commander, uh...Foley.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôFarley.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRight.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe didn't see why I wanted it, but he had kept it with the letters and things. So...keep working on it.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôI will.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Key waved. ├óÔé¼┼ôSee ya.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex waved back. The wagon driver whipped the horse and the wagon jolted into motion. Alex grabbed onto the wheels of his chair to stop from pitching forward. The wagon kept going, even as the snow started to come down harder and harder.
├óÔé¼┼ôLet me say one thing.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight without the leg piped up, looking at the sky. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm really glad to get out of this damn country.├óÔé¼┬Ø
There was a chorus of agreement from the other wounded Knights. Alex watched Key for as long as he could. He sighed. There was one thing he would miss. And, he thought, it wouldn't be the snow.
###
Tervarthen in winter had a light dusting of snow and a lot of evergreens. The peasants, the farmworkers, were inside their homes as often as possible. The smoke from their chimneys rose into the air, showing where towns and villages were. The only people on the roads were the traders and the Postmen.
During peace, the Postmen were welcomed as bringers of new.
During war, they were hated and feared.
The Postman had come to Tervarthen two weeks ago, and black flags still fluttered from every house door. The Tervarthen estate had large doors, with large flags to go with it. The knocker to the front door boomed throughout the house.
├óÔé¼┼ôOne moment.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis called. She walked through the lobby of the Tervarthen. She wore her flowing black dress. Sometimes it seemed as if she had worn the same flowing black dress forever. She opened the door. A man in a wheeled chair sat infront of the door.
The man was Alex.
Sis gulped.
├óÔé¼┼ôHi Sis...├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex grinned weakly, his entire face a bit gray. ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...you look like you've seen a Ghost.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sis toppled.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh bloody hell!├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex snarled, gritting his teeth as he tried to push himself up into the lobby. But a footman ran forward. It was old Trebeck, who picked Sis up as best he could, saw Alex, and gasped.
├óÔé¼┼ôYoung master!├óÔé¼┬Ø He gasped.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex scowled, sweat beading across his brow as he finally managed to get the wheeled chair into the lobby.
Trebeck shook Sis, who started to come too.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, let me guess.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex rolled his eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou got a deeply regrets post...damn, I mean dang, uh, sis-├óÔé¼┬Ø He held up his hand to apologize. ├óÔé¼┼ô-they told me that the message would get here before-├óÔé¼┬Ø
The knocker banged. Alex wheeled himself around as Trebeck opened the door. A postman stood there, holding a brown envelope. Alex grabbed it from his hands and tore it open.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe are glad to inform you that Alexander of Tervarthen's demise was a clerical error and he, in fact, is alive. From, the War Department.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex growled.
Sis burst into tears, thanked all the Gods as fast as she could, and hugged Alex as hard as she could all at the same time.
├óÔé¼┼ôSis!├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex wheezed, going a bit grayer. ├óÔé¼┼ôToo tight! Too tight!├óÔé¼┬Ø
She kissed him violently on the lips, which brought up memories of a disreputable hut in a small Silverback village. Alex frantically shoved those memories away, as they were decidedly disturbing when mashed up against his sister.
├óÔé¼┼ôI've got to tell mom and dad!├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis said. ├óÔé¼┼ôTrebeck, take my brother to the ------- and feed him! He's bones and skin!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes, young miss.├óÔé¼┬Ø Trebeck wheeled Alex away. Alex tried to get his breath back, pain shooting through his chest.
Soon, the entire Tervarthen family was gathered around Alex's chair. His mother and sister took turns hugging each other. His father simply beamed and thanked the gods.
Alex found himself fed better in five minuets than in a few months of Knighthood. He mumbled the words ├óÔé¼┼ôabsolutely stuffed├óÔé¼┬Ø around a mouthful of meat.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat was that?├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe said, he wanted thirds.├óÔé¼┬Ø Mom came forward with more food the ------- staff kept cooking up.
├óÔé¼┼ôI said,├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex swallowed his mouthful. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat I'm absolutely stuffed, in fact, I think I'm going to-├óÔé¼┬Ø
He fell asleep, suddenly, his head tilting to the side. He started to snore. Sis and Mom looked at one another. Dad nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe should take him to bed.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said. ├óÔé¼┼ôMarie, Sis, lets get him up...├óÔé¼┬Ø
###
Jonathan sat in a aid station and glowered. He had got a lot of practice at waiting as a Deadeye, but that didn't work for laying around on his back and waiting for a wound to heal. Or, more accurately, wait for a Source to get around to healing his wound. He could understand why the medical Sources had to be concentrated with those wounded by a Shooting Star, but it didn't make the waiting any easier.
├óÔé¼┼ôThose damn Silverbacks,├óÔé¼┬Ø A foulmouthed Knight Sergent next to Jonathan muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy can't they just give up and let our lives get gods damned easier, the stupid bastards.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôIf they invaded us, would you want to give up and let their lives get easier?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Knight Sergent looked at Jonathan. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat are you, fucking crazy?├óÔé¼┬Ø He shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe're Imperials. We're... better than them.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThen why do the Silverback's have Shooting Stars before us?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan grinned. The Knight Sergent took the jibe in stride, however.
├óÔé¼┼ôBecause Shooting Stars are damned cowardly, that's why.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight Sergent growled.
Jonathan sighed. Some people...
├óÔé¼┼ôWell, at least they can't hit worth a damn.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight Sergent muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôJust damn fool luck one had to land in the middle of the camp.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø
A Source ducked into the tent. She was scrawny, her red hair somewhat ratty, and her robes splattered with mud. She tightened her blindfold for a bit, then started to work her way down the wounded. The wounded, predictably, started to yell themselves horse as the Source started to work on them. But, once she moved on, the wounded weren't wounded anymore.
She reached Jonathan. He tensed, trying to ready himself. It didn't do any good. The Source touched his wound and horrible pain wracked him. He screamed. Then it was over and he collapsed back onto the cot.
He hobbled out of the tent later, trying to get his leg working properly. Knight Engineers worked hurriedly to set up more tents around the huge crater the Shooting Star had left behind. It still smelled strange, like a mix between something burning and gunpowder...but not quite. Jonathan shook his head.
Shooting stars. R-flints. Exploding cannon balls. Unlike most of the Imperial army, Jonathan was gifted, or cursed depending on your point of view, with an active imagination. He imagined R-flints that could fire shot after shot after shot without reloading. Shooting Stars with bigger bombs inside them.
What else could be on the horizon? Jonathan sighed. It all added up to one thing; make life harder for him and men like him.
├óÔé¼┼ôJonathan!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan jumped and turned around, his hip twinging. Hank grinned at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôWoolgathering?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôI called your name three times.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah, well...maybe I was, Hank. Maybe I was.├óÔé¼┬Ø
After a longish pause, Hank nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôO...kay. I just wanted to tell you something.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan rubbed his hip, feeling the wound twinge.
├óÔé¼┼ôI made Knight Lieutenant, fourth class.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank held out the metal insignia pin.
├óÔé¼┼ôI didn't know there was a fourth class,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan muttered, bending over to look at the pin.
├óÔé¼┼ôIt's probationary.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank pinned it to his shoulder, taking off his sergeant pin. ├óÔé¼┼ôBasically, they slot me under a second lieutenant and above a first sergeant, and then they see if I die horribly. If I don't, then I get bumped up to second class.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere did third class go?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Hank shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôDamned if I know. But...anyway, I just wanted to say...bye.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou're transferring?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan grabbed Hank's hand and shook it. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood for you.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThird platoon. It's about a hundred fifty miles east, trying to take Buriedrock.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank pointed. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey're shipping me over with some supplies.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThird platoon did good work in Shrillbore.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan shook Hank's hand again. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't get killed, you hear.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHey, you've got the more dangerous job.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôDeadeyes and all.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan glanced at his hip, then shook his head. Hank opened his mouth to say something more, but a shout rang out. Hank sighed.
├óÔé¼┼ôThey're leaving. Well...good luck, and gods bless, Jonathan.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou too.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan waved as Hank left. He shook his head, feeling a bit melancholy as more snow started to drift down.
The next day, the army started to advance again. Jonathan went on ahead, dressed in white, with his R-flint wrapped in a pillow case. Goggles rested on his face and he bent low against the wind and the snow. Behind him, the army advanced.
Infront of him was his target. He wiped his thumbs over his goggles to clear his vision and kept walking. After a while, he stopped and tried to check his position. The trees that surrounded him made that rather difficult. He gritted his teeth and started looking for a hill. Once he found it, he looked around for some landmark. But the blizzards had cut down visibility to nothing.
├óÔé¼┼ôDamn,├óÔé¼┬Ø He muttered, wrapping his clothes tighter. Deadeyes were expected to complete their missions in the worst of environments, but this was just silly.
Then a break. Jonathan saw something moving in the trees. He went belly down, blending in with the snow. There!
Two Silverbacks, wrapped in wool and fur, trudged to the base of the hill.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe have to meet here?├óÔé¼┬Ø One of them said. He, or she, was taller than the others, his face covered by a scarf. Jonathan took a moment to puzzle out the meaning of the words. He wasn't fluent with the Silverback language, but he was getting better.
├óÔé¼┼ôWant the pinkies to find us?├óÔé¼┬Ø The shorter Silverback shook their head. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey don't understand flurries like we do.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan cocked his head. Flurries? Then he mentally kicked himself. The right word was blizzards.
├óÔé¼┼ôWell,├óÔé¼┬Ø The taller Silverback pulled out a small bag. ├óÔé¼┼ôHere. Zumi managed to get this from an eyeless one's tent.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLet's hope it is worth something.├óÔé¼┬Ø The shorter Silverback opened the bad and looked into it. ├óÔé¼┼ôAh this is what the pinkies call crystal, is that right?
The taller one nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood. This is good. The more we understand the Eyeless, the worse off the ju-ju biada Imperial pigs will be!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan slowly, carefully, brought his R-flint up. The blizzarrd hid the motion and the sound. He brushed snow off the scope and aimed. The Silverback's were close enough to spit at and have a good chance of hitting...if the spit didn't freeze in the air before it hit them.
Jonathan carefully primed the R-flint, cocking it. Now, he thought, the part the gods decide...how wet my powder is.
He pulled the trigger. A loud crack sounded as the flint snapped down against the tinder. Sparks flew and the powder...didn't ignite. The two Silverbacks, jolted by the sound, drew their pistols. Their flints were far bulkier than Imperial flints, but they had specialized chambers built around the gunpowder to keep it from getting wet...like Jonathan's.
He rolled to the side as one of their flint's fired. Smoke and flames spat from the barrel and a flintshot puffed up snow. The other one held back, waiting for a clearer shot. Rather than reloading, the taller one simply drew a wicked hatchet from their belt.
Jonathan drew his bayonet, growling softly. Knife fighting hadn't been a required thing to learn as a Deadeyes. But it did come in handy.
He felt around in the snow, his finger tips going numb despite his thick gloves. He found a rock and with a quick flick of his wrist, threw it against a tree. Snow showered down from the branches of the tree.
The Silverback with the flint pistol turned, but didn't fire. Jonathan surged to his feet and charged. The Silverback turned back towards him, the flint discharging as Jonathan slammed into him. The flintshot went wide. Jonathan jammed his bayonet into the Silverback's throat, cutting through scarf and jacket and flesh with one jab. The Silverback toppled, bright red blood painting the snow.
He took Jonathan's bayonet with him. Jonathan turned to the other Silverback, who had shed their outer layer of clothes. It was a female, as it turned out, scrawny and wiry. The gloves came off next and the Silverback ducked down, holding the wicked hatcher in one hand.
She hissed. ├óÔé¼┼ôReady to die, Imperial?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAre you?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan stepped back slightly, speaking in her language. She seemed surprised, then angry.
Jonathan knelt down and jerked the bayonet out of the dead Silverback's throat. Blood came with it, splatting over the snow. He brought it up to redirect a swing from the female Silverback's hatchet. Sparks flew and Jonathan rolled backwards, his wrist feeling like it had been whacked with a hammer.
The female Silvebrack grinned, her eyes glinting. Jonathan felt rather poorly about his chances. He glanced around for some way to level the score.
The Silverback threw the hatchet. Jonathan threw himself forward. The hatchet whizzed through where his neck had been. Jonathan landed on his belly. The Silverback kicked at him, her thick boot heading right for his face. Jonathan brought his bayonet up.
The point slid cleanly into the female Silverback's foot.
She howled and landed on her back, clutching at her foot. Jonathan yanked his knife out and grabbed the bag of crystals.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere did you get this!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted, grabbing the female Silverback by the shirt. ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you part of the Resistance?├óÔé¼┬Ø
She spat. The spittle hit his goggles. Jonathan ignored it.
├óÔé¼┼ôTell me, or I start cutting!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan growled, putting the bloody bayonet against her cheek. She wasn't half bad looking, if you were into part animal sub-Imperial creatures.
├óÔé¼┼ôBetter to die then to betray my own people!├óÔé¼┬Ø She snarled. Jonathan pressed the bayonet against her cheek, then...didn't.
├óÔé¼┼ôDamn it,├óÔé¼┬Ø He muttered in Imperial, then, switching back to Silverback, ├óÔé¼┼ôyou have a choice. I bring you back as a prisoner, and you get the firing squad for being a woman with a gun. Or you tell me something, and I let you go.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow about,├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôI let my friend sneak up behind you and club you in the back of-├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan didn't hear the rest, as a club came down on the back of his head. There was a cracking sound, a bright white flash, then it all went dark.
###
├óÔé¼┼ôTie him up, get his flint, and take him with us.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback pulled on her gloves. Her partner, who had waited in the bushes just in case things went wrong (which they had) nodded. He stooped down and paused.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe's dead.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback said, looking up at the woman.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh bloody hell!├óÔé¼┬Ø The woman stamped her non-injured foot on the ground. ├óÔé¼┼ôI was planning to-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, no, wait...├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback prodded around with his forefingers. ├óÔé¼┼ôHeh... Imperial heartbeats are on the left side, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe's alive then.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman rolled her eyes.
###
The League of Source had a good purpose: Keep eyeless redheaded girl children from blowing themselves and most of the surrounding countryside into particulate matter.
The only problem, Key thought, was the League didn't notice the children under their care had turned into adults. Either that or they didn't care.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou shouldn't do this, Key.├óÔé¼┬Ø The League messenger floated above the operating table. It looked like a stylized monkey with wide, grinning lips. ├óÔé¼┼ôMamma will be angry.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh bugger off.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key dangled the shoelace above Alex's chest. The wound in his body wasn't the worst Key had seen in all her born days. The burns Ghost Light could inflict on those that used it improperly was immensely worse. But the deep puncture had an eerie, disgusting allure all to itself.
The Messenger didn't bugger off. instead, it started floating upside down, it's grin getting wider. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat's not how nice little girls should talk.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Key sometimes wished she had eyes purely to roll them. She started to gather Ghost Light.
├óÔé¼┼ôKey, if you do this, Mamma will be very angry.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Key flicked her wrist and sent a small ball of Ghost Light through the Messenger's forehead. It exploded in a poof of Ghost Light, the whispery fragments retaining parts of the Messenger's body. Key grabbed them with her free hand and shoved them into the gathering Ghost Light that started to suffuse the shoelace.
├óÔé¼┼ôThere we go,├óÔé¼┬Ø She grinned. She started to wiggle the shoelace above Alex's body. Alex's body started to wiggle back. Key bit her lip, wiggling harder. Alex started to shake. Key spoke a word that flexed time.
Alex sat up, gasping in a huge lungful of air. He made a sound like someone with a hole through his chest, then thumped back down. Key put her hand over the wound and forced Ghost Light into it. Alex screamed, loudly.
And then it was over. Key sagged to her knees, panting heavily. Alex cracked an eye open.
├óÔé¼┼ôAm I dead?├óÔé¼┬Ø He rasped, his voice sounding like someone had sandpapered his throat for a week.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes...but you're getting better.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key grinned. Alex groaned and closed his eyes.
A day later, and Alex was sitting in a chair. A wheeled chair. He ran his palms over the wheels, frowning.
├óÔé¼┼ôLike it?├óÔé¼┬Ø Key stepped into the tent, ducking beneath the tent flap. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's for invalids, yes, but I managed to grab one.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt's...better...than...├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex wheezed. ├óÔé¼┼ôDead.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYour voice will return to normal in a few weeks.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key walked around behind Alex and started pushing him forward. He let go of the wheels in a hurry. She pushed him out of the tent and onto the streets of Shrillbore. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe other symptoms of death, however, might never fully go away. You have a pretty good chance of walking again, but running, shooting, fighting, or working hard...├óÔé¼┬Ø She shook her head. ├óÔé¼┼ôNot quite as likely.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow good a chance?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex rasped, looking up at her.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh seventy something.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key started pushing him faster, the wheels squelching through the mud of the streets. A few snowflakes had started to drift down from the sky, which was a troubled gray.
Alex looked around at the city. Occupation didn't agree with it. The Silverbacks looked sullen and the Imperial Constables that had taken over for the Knights that had left were a bit...fat. Alex gulped and regretted it. His throat felt like it had been sandpapered.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo, we've sent out a letter to your family, telling them that the whole 'you are dead' thing was a clerical error.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key said as she pushed him to the edge of the city. A few wagons sat there with Knights who had missing limbs sitting on crates of letters and sacks of whatever tribute the Imperial Governors had scared out of the Silverback cities and towns under Imperial control.
The wounded Knights and the loot were about equal. Key grunted, pushing the wheeled chair up onto the wagon. She locked it down with some straps.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou two,├óÔé¼┬Ø She pointed at a Knight missing his left hand and a Knight who's right leg ended at the hip. ├óÔé¼┼ôMake sure Alex doesn't fall outta the chair.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes ma'am.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight without the hip said, tipping his head. The other Knight just saluted.
├óÔé¼┼ôWait, Key-├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex held up his hand as Key turned to leave. She stopped, looking over her shoulder. ├óÔé¼┼ôThanks.├óÔé¼┬Ø
She grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôSee ya when you get back. Oh, and uh-├óÔé¼┬Ø She walked back to one of the letter crates. She patted it. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're painting is in there.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex grinned for the first time since his reawakening.
├óÔé¼┼ôSent a letter to your commander, uh...Foley.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôFarley.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRight.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe didn't see why I wanted it, but he had kept it with the letters and things. So...keep working on it.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôI will.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Key waved. ├óÔé¼┼ôSee ya.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex waved back. The wagon driver whipped the horse and the wagon jolted into motion. Alex grabbed onto the wheels of his chair to stop from pitching forward. The wagon kept going, even as the snow started to come down harder and harder.
├óÔé¼┼ôLet me say one thing.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight without the leg piped up, looking at the sky. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm really glad to get out of this damn country.├óÔé¼┬Ø
There was a chorus of agreement from the other wounded Knights. Alex watched Key for as long as he could. He sighed. There was one thing he would miss. And, he thought, it wouldn't be the snow.
###
Tervarthen in winter had a light dusting of snow and a lot of evergreens. The peasants, the farmworkers, were inside their homes as often as possible. The smoke from their chimneys rose into the air, showing where towns and villages were. The only people on the roads were the traders and the Postmen.
During peace, the Postmen were welcomed as bringers of new.
During war, they were hated and feared.
The Postman had come to Tervarthen two weeks ago, and black flags still fluttered from every house door. The Tervarthen estate had large doors, with large flags to go with it. The knocker to the front door boomed throughout the house.
├óÔé¼┼ôOne moment.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis called. She walked through the lobby of the Tervarthen. She wore her flowing black dress. Sometimes it seemed as if she had worn the same flowing black dress forever. She opened the door. A man in a wheeled chair sat infront of the door.
The man was Alex.
Sis gulped.
├óÔé¼┼ôHi Sis...├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex grinned weakly, his entire face a bit gray. ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...you look like you've seen a Ghost.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sis toppled.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh bloody hell!├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex snarled, gritting his teeth as he tried to push himself up into the lobby. But a footman ran forward. It was old Trebeck, who picked Sis up as best he could, saw Alex, and gasped.
├óÔé¼┼ôYoung master!├óÔé¼┬Ø He gasped.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex scowled, sweat beading across his brow as he finally managed to get the wheeled chair into the lobby.
Trebeck shook Sis, who started to come too.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, let me guess.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex rolled his eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou got a deeply regrets post...damn, I mean dang, uh, sis-├óÔé¼┬Ø He held up his hand to apologize. ├óÔé¼┼ô-they told me that the message would get here before-├óÔé¼┬Ø
The knocker banged. Alex wheeled himself around as Trebeck opened the door. A postman stood there, holding a brown envelope. Alex grabbed it from his hands and tore it open.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe are glad to inform you that Alexander of Tervarthen's demise was a clerical error and he, in fact, is alive. From, the War Department.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex growled.
Sis burst into tears, thanked all the Gods as fast as she could, and hugged Alex as hard as she could all at the same time.
├óÔé¼┼ôSis!├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex wheezed, going a bit grayer. ├óÔé¼┼ôToo tight! Too tight!├óÔé¼┬Ø
She kissed him violently on the lips, which brought up memories of a disreputable hut in a small Silverback village. Alex frantically shoved those memories away, as they were decidedly disturbing when mashed up against his sister.
├óÔé¼┼ôI've got to tell mom and dad!├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis said. ├óÔé¼┼ôTrebeck, take my brother to the ------- and feed him! He's bones and skin!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes, young miss.├óÔé¼┬Ø Trebeck wheeled Alex away. Alex tried to get his breath back, pain shooting through his chest.
Soon, the entire Tervarthen family was gathered around Alex's chair. His mother and sister took turns hugging each other. His father simply beamed and thanked the gods.
Alex found himself fed better in five minuets than in a few months of Knighthood. He mumbled the words ├óÔé¼┼ôabsolutely stuffed├óÔé¼┬Ø around a mouthful of meat.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat was that?├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe said, he wanted thirds.├óÔé¼┬Ø Mom came forward with more food the ------- staff kept cooking up.
├óÔé¼┼ôI said,├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex swallowed his mouthful. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat I'm absolutely stuffed, in fact, I think I'm going to-├óÔé¼┬Ø
He fell asleep, suddenly, his head tilting to the side. He started to snore. Sis and Mom looked at one another. Dad nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe should take him to bed.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said. ├óÔé¼┼ôMarie, Sis, lets get him up...├óÔé¼┬Ø
###
Jonathan sat in a aid station and glowered. He had got a lot of practice at waiting as a Deadeye, but that didn't work for laying around on his back and waiting for a wound to heal. Or, more accurately, wait for a Source to get around to healing his wound. He could understand why the medical Sources had to be concentrated with those wounded by a Shooting Star, but it didn't make the waiting any easier.
├óÔé¼┼ôThose damn Silverbacks,├óÔé¼┬Ø A foulmouthed Knight Sergent next to Jonathan muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy can't they just give up and let our lives get gods damned easier, the stupid bastards.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôIf they invaded us, would you want to give up and let their lives get easier?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Knight Sergent looked at Jonathan. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat are you, fucking crazy?├óÔé¼┬Ø He shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe're Imperials. We're... better than them.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThen why do the Silverback's have Shooting Stars before us?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan grinned. The Knight Sergent took the jibe in stride, however.
├óÔé¼┼ôBecause Shooting Stars are damned cowardly, that's why.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight Sergent growled.
Jonathan sighed. Some people...
├óÔé¼┼ôWell, at least they can't hit worth a damn.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight Sergent muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôJust damn fool luck one had to land in the middle of the camp.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø
A Source ducked into the tent. She was scrawny, her red hair somewhat ratty, and her robes splattered with mud. She tightened her blindfold for a bit, then started to work her way down the wounded. The wounded, predictably, started to yell themselves horse as the Source started to work on them. But, once she moved on, the wounded weren't wounded anymore.
She reached Jonathan. He tensed, trying to ready himself. It didn't do any good. The Source touched his wound and horrible pain wracked him. He screamed. Then it was over and he collapsed back onto the cot.
He hobbled out of the tent later, trying to get his leg working properly. Knight Engineers worked hurriedly to set up more tents around the huge crater the Shooting Star had left behind. It still smelled strange, like a mix between something burning and gunpowder...but not quite. Jonathan shook his head.
Shooting stars. R-flints. Exploding cannon balls. Unlike most of the Imperial army, Jonathan was gifted, or cursed depending on your point of view, with an active imagination. He imagined R-flints that could fire shot after shot after shot without reloading. Shooting Stars with bigger bombs inside them.
What else could be on the horizon? Jonathan sighed. It all added up to one thing; make life harder for him and men like him.
├óÔé¼┼ôJonathan!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan jumped and turned around, his hip twinging. Hank grinned at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôWoolgathering?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôI called your name three times.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah, well...maybe I was, Hank. Maybe I was.├óÔé¼┬Ø
After a longish pause, Hank nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôO...kay. I just wanted to tell you something.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan rubbed his hip, feeling the wound twinge.
├óÔé¼┼ôI made Knight Lieutenant, fourth class.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank held out the metal insignia pin.
├óÔé¼┼ôI didn't know there was a fourth class,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan muttered, bending over to look at the pin.
├óÔé¼┼ôIt's probationary.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank pinned it to his shoulder, taking off his sergeant pin. ├óÔé¼┼ôBasically, they slot me under a second lieutenant and above a first sergeant, and then they see if I die horribly. If I don't, then I get bumped up to second class.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere did third class go?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Hank shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôDamned if I know. But...anyway, I just wanted to say...bye.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou're transferring?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan grabbed Hank's hand and shook it. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood for you.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThird platoon. It's about a hundred fifty miles east, trying to take Buriedrock.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank pointed. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey're shipping me over with some supplies.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThird platoon did good work in Shrillbore.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan shook Hank's hand again. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't get killed, you hear.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHey, you've got the more dangerous job.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôDeadeyes and all.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan glanced at his hip, then shook his head. Hank opened his mouth to say something more, but a shout rang out. Hank sighed.
├óÔé¼┼ôThey're leaving. Well...good luck, and gods bless, Jonathan.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou too.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan waved as Hank left. He shook his head, feeling a bit melancholy as more snow started to drift down.
The next day, the army started to advance again. Jonathan went on ahead, dressed in white, with his R-flint wrapped in a pillow case. Goggles rested on his face and he bent low against the wind and the snow. Behind him, the army advanced.
Infront of him was his target. He wiped his thumbs over his goggles to clear his vision and kept walking. After a while, he stopped and tried to check his position. The trees that surrounded him made that rather difficult. He gritted his teeth and started looking for a hill. Once he found it, he looked around for some landmark. But the blizzards had cut down visibility to nothing.
├óÔé¼┼ôDamn,├óÔé¼┬Ø He muttered, wrapping his clothes tighter. Deadeyes were expected to complete their missions in the worst of environments, but this was just silly.
Then a break. Jonathan saw something moving in the trees. He went belly down, blending in with the snow. There!
Two Silverbacks, wrapped in wool and fur, trudged to the base of the hill.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe have to meet here?├óÔé¼┬Ø One of them said. He, or she, was taller than the others, his face covered by a scarf. Jonathan took a moment to puzzle out the meaning of the words. He wasn't fluent with the Silverback language, but he was getting better.
├óÔé¼┼ôWant the pinkies to find us?├óÔé¼┬Ø The shorter Silverback shook their head. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey don't understand flurries like we do.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan cocked his head. Flurries? Then he mentally kicked himself. The right word was blizzards.
├óÔé¼┼ôWell,├óÔé¼┬Ø The taller Silverback pulled out a small bag. ├óÔé¼┼ôHere. Zumi managed to get this from an eyeless one's tent.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLet's hope it is worth something.├óÔé¼┬Ø The shorter Silverback opened the bad and looked into it. ├óÔé¼┼ôAh this is what the pinkies call crystal, is that right?
The taller one nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood. This is good. The more we understand the Eyeless, the worse off the ju-ju biada Imperial pigs will be!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan slowly, carefully, brought his R-flint up. The blizzarrd hid the motion and the sound. He brushed snow off the scope and aimed. The Silverback's were close enough to spit at and have a good chance of hitting...if the spit didn't freeze in the air before it hit them.
Jonathan carefully primed the R-flint, cocking it. Now, he thought, the part the gods decide...how wet my powder is.
He pulled the trigger. A loud crack sounded as the flint snapped down against the tinder. Sparks flew and the powder...didn't ignite. The two Silverbacks, jolted by the sound, drew their pistols. Their flints were far bulkier than Imperial flints, but they had specialized chambers built around the gunpowder to keep it from getting wet...like Jonathan's.
He rolled to the side as one of their flint's fired. Smoke and flames spat from the barrel and a flintshot puffed up snow. The other one held back, waiting for a clearer shot. Rather than reloading, the taller one simply drew a wicked hatchet from their belt.
Jonathan drew his bayonet, growling softly. Knife fighting hadn't been a required thing to learn as a Deadeyes. But it did come in handy.
He felt around in the snow, his finger tips going numb despite his thick gloves. He found a rock and with a quick flick of his wrist, threw it against a tree. Snow showered down from the branches of the tree.
The Silverback with the flint pistol turned, but didn't fire. Jonathan surged to his feet and charged. The Silverback turned back towards him, the flint discharging as Jonathan slammed into him. The flintshot went wide. Jonathan jammed his bayonet into the Silverback's throat, cutting through scarf and jacket and flesh with one jab. The Silverback toppled, bright red blood painting the snow.
He took Jonathan's bayonet with him. Jonathan turned to the other Silverback, who had shed their outer layer of clothes. It was a female, as it turned out, scrawny and wiry. The gloves came off next and the Silverback ducked down, holding the wicked hatcher in one hand.
She hissed. ├óÔé¼┼ôReady to die, Imperial?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAre you?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan stepped back slightly, speaking in her language. She seemed surprised, then angry.
Jonathan knelt down and jerked the bayonet out of the dead Silverback's throat. Blood came with it, splatting over the snow. He brought it up to redirect a swing from the female Silverback's hatchet. Sparks flew and Jonathan rolled backwards, his wrist feeling like it had been whacked with a hammer.
The female Silvebrack grinned, her eyes glinting. Jonathan felt rather poorly about his chances. He glanced around for some way to level the score.
The Silverback threw the hatchet. Jonathan threw himself forward. The hatchet whizzed through where his neck had been. Jonathan landed on his belly. The Silverback kicked at him, her thick boot heading right for his face. Jonathan brought his bayonet up.
The point slid cleanly into the female Silverback's foot.
She howled and landed on her back, clutching at her foot. Jonathan yanked his knife out and grabbed the bag of crystals.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere did you get this!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted, grabbing the female Silverback by the shirt. ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you part of the Resistance?├óÔé¼┬Ø
She spat. The spittle hit his goggles. Jonathan ignored it.
├óÔé¼┼ôTell me, or I start cutting!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan growled, putting the bloody bayonet against her cheek. She wasn't half bad looking, if you were into part animal sub-Imperial creatures.
├óÔé¼┼ôBetter to die then to betray my own people!├óÔé¼┬Ø She snarled. Jonathan pressed the bayonet against her cheek, then...didn't.
├óÔé¼┼ôDamn it,├óÔé¼┬Ø He muttered in Imperial, then, switching back to Silverback, ├óÔé¼┼ôyou have a choice. I bring you back as a prisoner, and you get the firing squad for being a woman with a gun. Or you tell me something, and I let you go.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow about,├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôI let my friend sneak up behind you and club you in the back of-├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan didn't hear the rest, as a club came down on the back of his head. There was a cracking sound, a bright white flash, then it all went dark.
###
├óÔé¼┼ôTie him up, get his flint, and take him with us.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback pulled on her gloves. Her partner, who had waited in the bushes just in case things went wrong (which they had) nodded. He stooped down and paused.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe's dead.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback said, looking up at the woman.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh bloody hell!├óÔé¼┬Ø The woman stamped her non-injured foot on the ground. ├óÔé¼┼ôI was planning to-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, no, wait...├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback prodded around with his forefingers. ├óÔé¼┼ôHeh... Imperial heartbeats are on the left side, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe's alive then.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman rolled her eyes.
-
HeavyLancer
- Posts: 421
- Joined: 19 May 2007, 09:28
Thanks, Erom. Right now, I think my "things to improve on list" includes:
Grammar
Spelling
Characterization
and, last but not least
Description.
That sound about right? Does to me! Well, expect a new post in...a while. Cause I have to...do...things...like play the new Galactic Civilization II expansion set. Drengi fleets have been pushed back to their home system, but the Drengin have come out with a disturbingly powerful new weapon: Ion Beams.
Can I stop them from reclaiming my hard won territory? Or will they start to inflict harsh enough losses to force me to sue for peace?
We'll just have to wait and see if my secret weapon, code name "Aries" is finished before their forces ram through my weaker ships....
Grammar
Spelling
Characterization
and, last but not least
Description.
That sound about right? Does to me! Well, expect a new post in...a while. Cause I have to...do...things...like play the new Galactic Civilization II expansion set. Drengi fleets have been pushed back to their home system, but the Drengin have come out with a disturbingly powerful new weapon: Ion Beams.
Can I stop them from reclaiming my hard won territory? Or will they start to inflict harsh enough losses to force me to sue for peace?
We'll just have to wait and see if my secret weapon, code name "Aries" is finished before their forces ram through my weaker ships....
Re: Gunpowder Knight
write MORE!
is taking to long
is taking to long
Re: Gunpowder Knight
I am writing. Anyone who is saying otherwise is a fitly lier.
Re: Gunpowder Knight
me too...
and its spelled "FILTHY"
and its spelled "FILTHY"
Re: Gunpowder Knight
Which is why I have a proofreader. And which is why I'm sending the next bit to Guessmyname right now!
Re: Gunpowder Knight
OTHERWISE!
I said it, does that make me a filthy liar?
I said it, does that make me a filthy liar?
Re: Gunpowder Knight
Obviously. So, the delay comes from being dragged out for Christmas shopping, trying to keep the Tommys from heading up Highway 69 and writing an alternate short story.
Re: Gunpowder Knight
her ja go
***
Alex bit his lip. The stairs...
├óÔé¼┼ôI can help, you know,├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. The minute after she and mother had stopped hugging and kissing Alex, they had gotten out of their black dresses. Now Sis wore what she called a sports dress, which apparently was all the rage in the Eastlands. It looked a bit like a cross between pants, tunic and a skirt. It wasn't quite proper, but it wasn't as bad as some of the things Silverbacks got up in.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I said,├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex started to push himself out of the chair, slowly. His arms strained as he kept his weight on the banister. He gasped for breath, his chest on fire. He let go of the banister and fell back onto the chair. ├óÔé¼┼ôI...can't...do it.├óÔé¼┬Ø He lay his head back, eyes closed.
Sis sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôLet me help.├óÔé¼┬Ø She grabbed the chair by the frame and grunted, pushing it up the stairs. Each step was a struggle, but she managed to get him to the top floor.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou've...gained some weight.├óÔé¼┬Ø She gasped, leaning on the back of the chair.
├óÔé¼┼ôHave I?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex looked at his arms. They were still pencil thin to his mind.
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis nodded, wheeling him to his room. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd...you stayed out of the chair at least five seconds longer than normal.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôI just...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou'll get well when you get well. Now, it's time for your bath.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex groaned. The bath...at least his parents had hired a kindly woman from a local Convent, rather than having anyone of the actual servants do the duty. It was bad enough to have someone else clean him, but having someone who had served his family all their life...Alex grimaced.
Sister Mirabel was aged, with silvery hair, and a kindly, but wrinkled, face. She was dressed in her Convent habbet, with a black cowl around her head and a veil in front of her mouth, allowing only her eyes to twinkle at Alex.
├óÔé¼┼ôCome, help me get him on the bed.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sister Mirabel gestured to the huge bed that Alex spent less and less time at. Considering he had spent almost his whole time on the bed the first few days...
Sis and Sister Mirabel levered Alex onto the bed. Sis left, glancing back at Alex before she left.
A ten agonizing minuets later and Sister Mirabel placed the sponge back in her bowl. ├óÔé¼┼ôDone, for now.├óÔé¼┬Ø She bowed slightly. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't worry, Master Tervarthen-├óÔé¼┬Ø She still refused to simply call him Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ô-Soon you'll be able to bath yourself.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah...├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex had his eyes closed, so he didn't have to watch her. She dried him off, then dressed him. ├óÔé¼┼ôLeave.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex pointed at the door. Sister Mirabel bowed and left.
Alex put his hands over his face and started to cry. He wiped his eyes, trying to stop, thinking of how unmanly this was. Amazingly, that only made him feel worse.
###
Jonathan shifted. Everything hurt. He tried closing his eyes, but then he realized they were already closed. He kept them closed and spent a while trying to beat back the horrible pounding headache that hammered on his mind.
After a while, the throbbing ebbed and he gently cracked his eye open. Darkness...no, there was a soft light.
Then he felt something warm and soft next to him. Jonathan cautiously put his hand out and felt whatever it was. Whatever it was shifted and moaned softly. Jonathan blinked, slowly, and gently rose up. A woman lay next to him, wrapped in a blanket.
Jonathan nodded and lay back down, closing his eyes and trying to figure out just what to do. His brain didn't want to grasp exactly what was going on or what had happened.
So he decided to just enjoy the warmth.
├óÔé¼┼ôAwake, sweety?├óÔé¼┬Ø A soft, purring voice breathed. The female form next to him rolled over. In the semi-darkness, all Jonathan could see was dark brown hair and two almond eyes.
├óÔé¼┼ôUh...where am I?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan groaned.
├óÔé¼┼ôIn bed.├óÔé¼┬Ø She giggled.
├óÔé¼┼ôRight...├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan felt her hand slowly slide across his chest. It felt absurdly like heaven. He rolled his eyes back into his head and groaned, his head pounding. Her palm was soft and her finger tips felt like...Jonathan sat up, looking at the woman.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou're not...who...are you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
She grinned, her teeth flashing in the shadows. Her hand gently pushed him back down. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm just curious about your job, honey...after all, I love you.├óÔé¼┬Ø
In a normal state of mind, Jonathan could find a more solid response for that than just, ├óÔé¼┼ômmmmrghn.├óÔé¼┬Ø Her hand sliding down across his belly made that even harder.
├óÔé¼┼ôI...this isn't right,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan muttered, looking around. His head hurt...and her hand, which had gotten to a very private place, had started to feel very...his eyes crossed. ├óÔé¼┼ôDeadeyes...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHmm?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI'm a...Deadeyes. Uh, was...going to...uh...├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan closed his eyes, feeling as though something was wrong. He stopped talking and...she stopped. ├óÔé¼┼ôHey!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat were you going to do?├óÔé¼┬Ø That sultry, seductive voice purred.
├óÔé¼┼ôAss...├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo...this...who are you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Her hand squeezed. Jonathan yelped.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat...were you going to do.├óÔé¼┬Ø For just a moment, the voice had a vicious edge.
Jonathan started to rally. ├óÔé¼┼ôN...no. This isn't right.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The voice sighed and the woman shrugged, taking off a headband that kept her wolf-like ears from sticking out. Jonathan flinched as she opened the tent flap. In the full light of day, which was harsh and white, she was definitely a Silverback.
├óÔé¼┼ôIt would have been a lot more fun if you had talked.├óÔé¼┬Ø She shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut at least I won't need to wash your seed of my hands.├óÔé¼┬Ø She shuddered at the thought and walked out, muttering something in Silverback.
After a bit, Jonathan worked it out to be: ├óÔé¼┼ôThe things I do for my country.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He lay his head back in the pillow and groaned. The touch of a woman, even a woman of a lesser species, couldn't be ignored as easily as Jonathan wished.
The flap opened and Jonathan flinched again at the white light. Two burly looking Silverback men walked in and, without preamble, dragged Jonathan out of bed. He tried to get his pants up, but failed.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou wish you let her touch.├óÔé¼┬Ø One of them growled in basic Imperial, grinning an ugly grin. ├óÔé¼┼ôOnce we done.├óÔé¼┬Ø
An hour later, Jonathan was thrown into a tent with a floor bare of all but a basic sleeping bag. He wore nothing but the loincloth they had given him after the preliminary...questioning. Jonathan shivered and crawled into the sleeping back. He kept shivering inside the bag, the welts and bruises on his back rubbing against the rough hide that made up the bag.
├óÔé¼┼ôT-t-t-t-this,├óÔé¼┬Ø He stuttered, his body quivering. The bag was lined with fur and actually kept the heat in nicely, warming him. The Silverback's wanted him broken, not dead. ├óÔé¼┼ôS-s-s-s-s-sucks.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The next morning, the Silverback's fed him gruel with some bits of meat. It stuck to his belly and filled him up, so Jonathan didn't complain. He did look over his guards- they were irregulars, not Silverback soldiers- and thanked them politely.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy thanks?├óÔé¼┬Ø One of them grunted.
├óÔé¼┼ôBecause,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan licked his bowl clean, speaking his somewhat fluent Silverback. ├óÔé¼┼ôThere's no reason we can't be civil.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The guard decided that was an insult and kicked Jonathan in the belly. He grabbed the bowl off the floor and walked off with his friend, leaving Jonathan curled in a ball. Jonathan uncurled and crawled back into the sleeping bag.
After a half hour of trying to ward off the cold, a Silverback guard dragged Jonathan out of the tent. He didn't struggle, but he did stay on his own feet. They had taken his shoes in the last round of questioning. His feet numbed in the snow, which had been freshly coated by yesterday's blizzard. It wasn't actively snowing now... but it had gotten colder. Jonathan had thought that was impossible, and he was feeling a bit closer to death by the time they lashed him to a pole inside a tent. His back faced one of the firepits inside the large tent, but his shivering didn't slow.
The Silverback woman, the one with brown eyes and a hateful sneer, walked in front of him.
├óÔé¼┼ôMy n-name is Jonathan. Rank; Deadeye, Knight Sergent-├óÔé¼┬Ø
Crack! Her whip snapped across the ground, the tip biting into the packed dirt.
├óÔé¼┼ôTell us something we don't know. Like, say, what the Eyeless ones are called.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôMy name...is Jonat-├óÔé¼┬Ø
Crack! This time the whip scoured his knuckles. Jonathan bit his lip, closing his eyes.
├óÔé¼┼ôCome on.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback irregular coiled the whip around her fist and walked closer to Jonathan. She punched him in the side. Jonathan grunted, straining against the pole. ├óÔé¼┼ôTell us what the Eyeless ones are called. It's not like that's a state secret or anything.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Whether it was or not didn't matter. After the questioning was over and done, Jonathan wished that he was dead. He supposed that maybe, maybe, he would die soon. But the Silverbacks seemed to know what they were doing. Food came. It wasn't starvation rations...quite. He ate what he could, and started thinking about escape. Escape sounded like a good plan to him.
The only problem was...he had absolutely no idea how to do it.
###
Alex daubed his paintbrush in some grayish brown paint and started to brush it across his canvas. The canvas itself had seen some damage. The edges were raggedy and some of the paint had started to run. But it still held the core of what Alex wanted and, according to his mother, Father didn't want to shell out money for a new canvas.
So, Alex painted on what he had.
One day, the first day of the second week of his convolecance, his sister peeked in at his painting. Alex hastily turned the easel around and she sighed.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhen are you going to show me?├óÔé¼┬Ø She asked, hovering in his doorframe.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhen it is done.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex smiled slightly. He had gotten some of his color back and spent less time scowling at minor annoyances. He still couldn't walk...but he could push himself along easily enough.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, come on.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis clasped her hands together. ├óÔé¼┼ôPleease?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex looked at her, then sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôFine.├óÔé¼┬Ø He turned the easel around.
Sis gulped and stepped into his room before she realized that she hadn't asked for permission. ├óÔé¼┼ôUh, can I-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah yeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex gestured her in and she hurried inside, peering at the painting.
├óÔé¼┼ôAlex...this is really good.├óÔé¼┬Ø She turned to look at him. He shrugged, blushing ever so slightly. Sis giggled. ├óÔé¼┼ôI mean it. Well...sure, it looks like it belongs with a pack of Voters.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhats?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex sat straight up, eyes going wide.
├óÔé¼┼ôThey're some idiot radicals that want to introduce a parliamentary monarchy or something...├óÔé¼┬Ø She shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôOne of them was passing out pamphlets in the village, but Father-├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôSilverback agitators...son of a...dog.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sis giggled. ├óÔé¼┼ôBitch, Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex stared at her, suddenly feeling as if the world was changing too much too fast. The clock on his bedside table chimed the hour, it's bell tinkling softly. Sis started, then ran to the door.
├óÔé¼┼ôTime for my piano lessons,├óÔé¼┬Ø she called back.
Alex scowled. Though he was feeling better, the piano lessons were a sore spot. The teacher, a young noble from the next estate over, a handsome, oil slick charmer named Jonathan of Yeller.
Unlike the Jonathan Alex knew, this Jonathan was interested in nothing but getting under Sis' skirts. Alex started to wheel forward, pushing out of the door. Piano notes came plinking up the stairs.
├óÔé¼┼ôVery good Syble.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex scowled as he reached the stairs. How to get down them.
├óÔé¼┼ôPlease...call me Sis.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex grabbed the banisters and kept hold of them, before slowly easing his chair forward. The wheel smacked onto the stair and Alex felt his chair start to slide down to the next step. He slid his arms forward, feeling the strain. He slowly, oh so slowly, clanked down the first platform of the three platform stairs. He could see the partially open door to the music room.
├óÔé¼┼ôExcellent improvement...Sis.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sis giggled, continuing to plink away. A half hour later, the lesson was done and, to Alex, it was little more than a bunch of missed notes from his sister and a stream of compliments and witty remarks from Jonathan. No...Alex scowled. Yeller.
Yeller opened the door to the music room as the lesson came to an end. Yeller and Sis saw Alex almost at the same time.
├óÔé¼┼ôHi Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis curtsied, looking a bit surprised. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis is-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI know.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex wheeled his chair closer to them.
├óÔé¼┼ôI am pleased to meet you, Sir Alexander-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôPlease...call me Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex held out his hand, trying to not scowl and failing. Yeller took his hand. Alex squeezed. Yeller made a noise like squeeze toy.
├óÔé¼┼ôUh...yeah...Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø He wrung his hand, then bowed to Sis. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood day Syble, Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He beat a hasty retreat. Sis turned to Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ôAlex! You scared him away.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGood! If that...fellow teaches real piano, then I'm a...woman!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAlex!├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis rolled her eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôJonathan is charming.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe should be in the army...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe has weak knees.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis brushed out her skirts out. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe army wouldn't take him.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOf course he would say that-├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex started, but Sis was already going up the stairs. She scowled at him. He couldn't bring himself to scowl back. She went fully up the stairs and a moment Alex could hear a door slam. He sighed.
***
Alex bit his lip. The stairs...
├óÔé¼┼ôI can help, you know,├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. The minute after she and mother had stopped hugging and kissing Alex, they had gotten out of their black dresses. Now Sis wore what she called a sports dress, which apparently was all the rage in the Eastlands. It looked a bit like a cross between pants, tunic and a skirt. It wasn't quite proper, but it wasn't as bad as some of the things Silverbacks got up in.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I said,├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex started to push himself out of the chair, slowly. His arms strained as he kept his weight on the banister. He gasped for breath, his chest on fire. He let go of the banister and fell back onto the chair. ├óÔé¼┼ôI...can't...do it.├óÔé¼┬Ø He lay his head back, eyes closed.
Sis sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôLet me help.├óÔé¼┬Ø She grabbed the chair by the frame and grunted, pushing it up the stairs. Each step was a struggle, but she managed to get him to the top floor.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou've...gained some weight.├óÔé¼┬Ø She gasped, leaning on the back of the chair.
├óÔé¼┼ôHave I?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex looked at his arms. They were still pencil thin to his mind.
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis nodded, wheeling him to his room. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd...you stayed out of the chair at least five seconds longer than normal.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôI just...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou'll get well when you get well. Now, it's time for your bath.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex groaned. The bath...at least his parents had hired a kindly woman from a local Convent, rather than having anyone of the actual servants do the duty. It was bad enough to have someone else clean him, but having someone who had served his family all their life...Alex grimaced.
Sister Mirabel was aged, with silvery hair, and a kindly, but wrinkled, face. She was dressed in her Convent habbet, with a black cowl around her head and a veil in front of her mouth, allowing only her eyes to twinkle at Alex.
├óÔé¼┼ôCome, help me get him on the bed.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sister Mirabel gestured to the huge bed that Alex spent less and less time at. Considering he had spent almost his whole time on the bed the first few days...
Sis and Sister Mirabel levered Alex onto the bed. Sis left, glancing back at Alex before she left.
A ten agonizing minuets later and Sister Mirabel placed the sponge back in her bowl. ├óÔé¼┼ôDone, for now.├óÔé¼┬Ø She bowed slightly. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't worry, Master Tervarthen-├óÔé¼┬Ø She still refused to simply call him Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ô-Soon you'll be able to bath yourself.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah...├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex had his eyes closed, so he didn't have to watch her. She dried him off, then dressed him. ├óÔé¼┼ôLeave.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex pointed at the door. Sister Mirabel bowed and left.
Alex put his hands over his face and started to cry. He wiped his eyes, trying to stop, thinking of how unmanly this was. Amazingly, that only made him feel worse.
###
Jonathan shifted. Everything hurt. He tried closing his eyes, but then he realized they were already closed. He kept them closed and spent a while trying to beat back the horrible pounding headache that hammered on his mind.
After a while, the throbbing ebbed and he gently cracked his eye open. Darkness...no, there was a soft light.
Then he felt something warm and soft next to him. Jonathan cautiously put his hand out and felt whatever it was. Whatever it was shifted and moaned softly. Jonathan blinked, slowly, and gently rose up. A woman lay next to him, wrapped in a blanket.
Jonathan nodded and lay back down, closing his eyes and trying to figure out just what to do. His brain didn't want to grasp exactly what was going on or what had happened.
So he decided to just enjoy the warmth.
├óÔé¼┼ôAwake, sweety?├óÔé¼┬Ø A soft, purring voice breathed. The female form next to him rolled over. In the semi-darkness, all Jonathan could see was dark brown hair and two almond eyes.
├óÔé¼┼ôUh...where am I?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan groaned.
├óÔé¼┼ôIn bed.├óÔé¼┬Ø She giggled.
├óÔé¼┼ôRight...├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan felt her hand slowly slide across his chest. It felt absurdly like heaven. He rolled his eyes back into his head and groaned, his head pounding. Her palm was soft and her finger tips felt like...Jonathan sat up, looking at the woman.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou're not...who...are you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
She grinned, her teeth flashing in the shadows. Her hand gently pushed him back down. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm just curious about your job, honey...after all, I love you.├óÔé¼┬Ø
In a normal state of mind, Jonathan could find a more solid response for that than just, ├óÔé¼┼ômmmmrghn.├óÔé¼┬Ø Her hand sliding down across his belly made that even harder.
├óÔé¼┼ôI...this isn't right,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan muttered, looking around. His head hurt...and her hand, which had gotten to a very private place, had started to feel very...his eyes crossed. ├óÔé¼┼ôDeadeyes...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHmm?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI'm a...Deadeyes. Uh, was...going to...uh...├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan closed his eyes, feeling as though something was wrong. He stopped talking and...she stopped. ├óÔé¼┼ôHey!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat were you going to do?├óÔé¼┬Ø That sultry, seductive voice purred.
├óÔé¼┼ôAss...├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo...this...who are you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Her hand squeezed. Jonathan yelped.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat...were you going to do.├óÔé¼┬Ø For just a moment, the voice had a vicious edge.
Jonathan started to rally. ├óÔé¼┼ôN...no. This isn't right.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The voice sighed and the woman shrugged, taking off a headband that kept her wolf-like ears from sticking out. Jonathan flinched as she opened the tent flap. In the full light of day, which was harsh and white, she was definitely a Silverback.
├óÔé¼┼ôIt would have been a lot more fun if you had talked.├óÔé¼┬Ø She shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut at least I won't need to wash your seed of my hands.├óÔé¼┬Ø She shuddered at the thought and walked out, muttering something in Silverback.
After a bit, Jonathan worked it out to be: ├óÔé¼┼ôThe things I do for my country.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He lay his head back in the pillow and groaned. The touch of a woman, even a woman of a lesser species, couldn't be ignored as easily as Jonathan wished.
The flap opened and Jonathan flinched again at the white light. Two burly looking Silverback men walked in and, without preamble, dragged Jonathan out of bed. He tried to get his pants up, but failed.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou wish you let her touch.├óÔé¼┬Ø One of them growled in basic Imperial, grinning an ugly grin. ├óÔé¼┼ôOnce we done.├óÔé¼┬Ø
An hour later, Jonathan was thrown into a tent with a floor bare of all but a basic sleeping bag. He wore nothing but the loincloth they had given him after the preliminary...questioning. Jonathan shivered and crawled into the sleeping back. He kept shivering inside the bag, the welts and bruises on his back rubbing against the rough hide that made up the bag.
├óÔé¼┼ôT-t-t-t-this,├óÔé¼┬Ø He stuttered, his body quivering. The bag was lined with fur and actually kept the heat in nicely, warming him. The Silverback's wanted him broken, not dead. ├óÔé¼┼ôS-s-s-s-s-sucks.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The next morning, the Silverback's fed him gruel with some bits of meat. It stuck to his belly and filled him up, so Jonathan didn't complain. He did look over his guards- they were irregulars, not Silverback soldiers- and thanked them politely.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy thanks?├óÔé¼┬Ø One of them grunted.
├óÔé¼┼ôBecause,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan licked his bowl clean, speaking his somewhat fluent Silverback. ├óÔé¼┼ôThere's no reason we can't be civil.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The guard decided that was an insult and kicked Jonathan in the belly. He grabbed the bowl off the floor and walked off with his friend, leaving Jonathan curled in a ball. Jonathan uncurled and crawled back into the sleeping bag.
After a half hour of trying to ward off the cold, a Silverback guard dragged Jonathan out of the tent. He didn't struggle, but he did stay on his own feet. They had taken his shoes in the last round of questioning. His feet numbed in the snow, which had been freshly coated by yesterday's blizzard. It wasn't actively snowing now... but it had gotten colder. Jonathan had thought that was impossible, and he was feeling a bit closer to death by the time they lashed him to a pole inside a tent. His back faced one of the firepits inside the large tent, but his shivering didn't slow.
The Silverback woman, the one with brown eyes and a hateful sneer, walked in front of him.
├óÔé¼┼ôMy n-name is Jonathan. Rank; Deadeye, Knight Sergent-├óÔé¼┬Ø
Crack! Her whip snapped across the ground, the tip biting into the packed dirt.
├óÔé¼┼ôTell us something we don't know. Like, say, what the Eyeless ones are called.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôMy name...is Jonat-├óÔé¼┬Ø
Crack! This time the whip scoured his knuckles. Jonathan bit his lip, closing his eyes.
├óÔé¼┼ôCome on.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback irregular coiled the whip around her fist and walked closer to Jonathan. She punched him in the side. Jonathan grunted, straining against the pole. ├óÔé¼┼ôTell us what the Eyeless ones are called. It's not like that's a state secret or anything.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Whether it was or not didn't matter. After the questioning was over and done, Jonathan wished that he was dead. He supposed that maybe, maybe, he would die soon. But the Silverbacks seemed to know what they were doing. Food came. It wasn't starvation rations...quite. He ate what he could, and started thinking about escape. Escape sounded like a good plan to him.
The only problem was...he had absolutely no idea how to do it.
###
Alex daubed his paintbrush in some grayish brown paint and started to brush it across his canvas. The canvas itself had seen some damage. The edges were raggedy and some of the paint had started to run. But it still held the core of what Alex wanted and, according to his mother, Father didn't want to shell out money for a new canvas.
So, Alex painted on what he had.
One day, the first day of the second week of his convolecance, his sister peeked in at his painting. Alex hastily turned the easel around and she sighed.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhen are you going to show me?├óÔé¼┬Ø She asked, hovering in his doorframe.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhen it is done.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex smiled slightly. He had gotten some of his color back and spent less time scowling at minor annoyances. He still couldn't walk...but he could push himself along easily enough.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, come on.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis clasped her hands together. ├óÔé¼┼ôPleease?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex looked at her, then sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôFine.├óÔé¼┬Ø He turned the easel around.
Sis gulped and stepped into his room before she realized that she hadn't asked for permission. ├óÔé¼┼ôUh, can I-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah yeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex gestured her in and she hurried inside, peering at the painting.
├óÔé¼┼ôAlex...this is really good.├óÔé¼┬Ø She turned to look at him. He shrugged, blushing ever so slightly. Sis giggled. ├óÔé¼┼ôI mean it. Well...sure, it looks like it belongs with a pack of Voters.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhats?├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex sat straight up, eyes going wide.
├óÔé¼┼ôThey're some idiot radicals that want to introduce a parliamentary monarchy or something...├óÔé¼┬Ø She shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôOne of them was passing out pamphlets in the village, but Father-├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôSilverback agitators...son of a...dog.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sis giggled. ├óÔé¼┼ôBitch, Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex stared at her, suddenly feeling as if the world was changing too much too fast. The clock on his bedside table chimed the hour, it's bell tinkling softly. Sis started, then ran to the door.
├óÔé¼┼ôTime for my piano lessons,├óÔé¼┬Ø she called back.
Alex scowled. Though he was feeling better, the piano lessons were a sore spot. The teacher, a young noble from the next estate over, a handsome, oil slick charmer named Jonathan of Yeller.
Unlike the Jonathan Alex knew, this Jonathan was interested in nothing but getting under Sis' skirts. Alex started to wheel forward, pushing out of the door. Piano notes came plinking up the stairs.
├óÔé¼┼ôVery good Syble.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex scowled as he reached the stairs. How to get down them.
├óÔé¼┼ôPlease...call me Sis.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex grabbed the banisters and kept hold of them, before slowly easing his chair forward. The wheel smacked onto the stair and Alex felt his chair start to slide down to the next step. He slid his arms forward, feeling the strain. He slowly, oh so slowly, clanked down the first platform of the three platform stairs. He could see the partially open door to the music room.
├óÔé¼┼ôExcellent improvement...Sis.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sis giggled, continuing to plink away. A half hour later, the lesson was done and, to Alex, it was little more than a bunch of missed notes from his sister and a stream of compliments and witty remarks from Jonathan. No...Alex scowled. Yeller.
Yeller opened the door to the music room as the lesson came to an end. Yeller and Sis saw Alex almost at the same time.
├óÔé¼┼ôHi Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis curtsied, looking a bit surprised. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis is-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI know.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex wheeled his chair closer to them.
├óÔé¼┼ôI am pleased to meet you, Sir Alexander-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôPlease...call me Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex held out his hand, trying to not scowl and failing. Yeller took his hand. Alex squeezed. Yeller made a noise like squeeze toy.
├óÔé¼┼ôUh...yeah...Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø He wrung his hand, then bowed to Sis. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood day Syble, Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He beat a hasty retreat. Sis turned to Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ôAlex! You scared him away.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGood! If that...fellow teaches real piano, then I'm a...woman!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAlex!├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis rolled her eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôJonathan is charming.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe should be in the army...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe has weak knees.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis brushed out her skirts out. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe army wouldn't take him.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOf course he would say that-├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex started, but Sis was already going up the stairs. She scowled at him. He couldn't bring himself to scowl back. She went fully up the stairs and a moment Alex could hear a door slam. He sighed.
Re: Gunpowder Knight
I've got to go to bed in about 40 minutes, and instead of UV mapping I read...
Damn you...
Damn you...