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Spoils of War (DareToDream and Nightingale)

As Illayna rode back to camp, her father was mounted and ready, waiting with a small entourage of noble men from their kingdom. It looked like Illayna would be the only Greymere miaden hunting today. She smiled to herself, this would be a cinch. Falling into place beside her father, they lead the group through the grounds and along the designated route. She listened to the idle chit chat, nodding, or voicing small opinions here and there when it was required of her. Those striking green eyes ever watchful today. Her Encounter with Aquitaine last night had left her shaken, and angry. Illayna was hardly ever angry, but that man had crept beneath her skin, and she felt the power of the goddess instilled within her. The power of the five elements caressed along her flesh, and encouraged her to follow her instinct. Today, would be a day of hardships and trial if she was not careful.

It was not long before they entered the designated grounds. The other kingdoms had begun to gather and she let her eyes sweep over the faces of the crowd until she found him. Marcus was here. Where she wanted to greet him with the warmest smile her heart could muster, she could feel her fathers and Richards eyes upon her, and she manages a cold, steel like gaze. Let it drift over the high knight, before narrowing and drifting away, she turned her steed and rode back to ride the flank with Richard. Keeping within his guard. "Your father is worried enough Illayna.. best keep your eyes to yourself." "Like I told my father, Richard, let them try. Like my mother before me, I am not a helpless damsel." It was her mothers vision, for Illayna to never be a helpless bride. A princess stuck in a kingdom, married to a man whom belittled her. Her mother had been a strong, beautiful woman with pride, and grace. A perfect image of the Goddess had been the image of her mother, Illayna wanted nothing more than to be just like her.

The turn out for the days even had been rather nice. People seemed to gather and socialize despite their warring neighbors. The serenity that hung in the air felt nice, and she suddenly felt washed in a sense of calm. Perhaps today would not be too bad. Though she nearly jumped from her saddle when Richard prodded her, handing her the bow she would be using today. She fastened it in place along with the quiver of arrows she was alotted. Illayna was a huntress, her aim had proved superb when she was younger, but the war had worsened since and hunting had been forbade for her.. she wondered if she still had the skill to hunt.
 
The longer he thought about what Lord Jacobs had said, the more Marcus grew perplexed and he tossed the words around in his mind, trying to find some hidden meaning in them. Taken one way, they were simply the words of a person who admired his actions and expected good things of him in the future but taken another way they sounded like someone encouraging him to do more. There was no doubt in his mind that some game was afoot but Marcus wasn’t clear on what that was exactly and that bothered him. Politics had never been his strength, not in all his years serving under Lord Aquitaine, though he’d picked up a thing or two over time. Once he figured out what was going on, perhaps he could use it to his advantage but until that time occurred, he needed to watch his back. If his time on the battlefields had taught him anything, paying attention to omens was one of them and if two warnings in the span of hours wasn’t considered an omen, than Marcus didn’t know what was.

Movement off to the side caught his eye and the knight turned, pushing his troubled thoughts to the back of his mind. His gaze scanned the crowd, stopping when he saw the Greymere contingent enter the field. Lord Ulric was in the center of a crowd of men, clearly guards and nobles, and nearby was Sir Richard. Scanning once more, his eyes found her next and paused to take her in. Lady Illayna sat straight in her saddle, wearing a pair of tight black pants and a tunic that clung to her upper body nicely. She turned then, her gaze meeting his, but instead of warmth and welcome, he was met with a cold calculating stare. He felt the smile that had graced his face slowly falter, wilting under the disappointment and distain that he felt in the distance and when she turned and rode away, Marcus felt his heart harden just a bit. So this was the thanks he would get for helping keep her safe? To be ignored like a common peasant and treated with distaste? He knew she’d been in the company of her men and that alone gave him a tiny bit of hope; perhaps the look was just an act, meant to keep suspicion at bay.

Before he could think about it more, a bugle sounded near the front of the field and the bay of hounds broke the still air. Both sounds meant the start of the hunt and within moments groups of men began to move out, their horses trotting across the open ground. The rules of the hunt were simple - to track and kill as much game as possible so that the first feast of Midsummer Festival would be a rousing success. The group that brought back the most meat would be regaled as great hunters before all and always led to more interesting times during the duration of the Festival. Turning to glance at Lord Aquitaine, Marcus received the signal to start and standing up in his saddle, he bellowed instructions to the group, sending them off. As they rode out of the field hard, Marcus slipped his bow off his shoulder and notched the first arrow, ready to let it fly at the first sign of his quarry. Glancing across the way, he spotted Illayna riding strong and let a small smile grace his lips as he admired her from afar. Perhaps her group would win this hunt, allowing her a little more freedom to enjoy life for a bit. He was so focused on her as he rode that Marcus never felt Lord Aquitaine’s gaze as he stared at his back, the look laced with anger and hatred at all things Greymere…and now at his High Knight.
 
The Bugle sounded and Illayna reached behind her to unsettle her bow, She then reached and withdrew and arrow from her quiver, and notched it. She was watching Marcus through her peripherals. She could also see the nasty look King Aquitaine was giving him. Marcus was in danger that much she knew, but how far deep? She was startled then by the abrupt concern from a slight unfamiliar voice. As she snapped her attention to the rider beside her, she relaxed. " Erik!" She exclaimed, her heart calmed from it's previous race, and she offered him a kind smile. The man was tall, slender but built like a man who knew battle. His dark hair curled just at the ends and brought out the brilliant blue of his eyes. Eyes Illayna had known for years. Erik was the newly appointed Lord of the House of Kalona, his family had long been the sacred protectors of the Gods Temple, and all the God claimed his. The counter existence of all that was the Goddess. They'd grown up together, and been close friends. "I was beginning to wonder if your father hadn't locked you away in a tower somewhere to protect you." Though there was laughter, and humor in his voice, she could see the concern in his face. Everyone knew how devestating the war was becoming.

"I'm fine, Erik, you worry too much! Though it is nice to see you." The man smiled, what a brilliant smile. She'd missed it.. and oddly.. though she knew it was much safer.. much more promising.. she couldn't help but long to be speaking with Marcus so freely. She glanced over her shoulder longingly and sighed. Erik gave her a sideways glance before dropping the volume of his voice to a whisper. "So it's true? " She looked back to him "What is true?" "There are rumors about you and that ... Man, the High Knight to Lord Aquitaine." Illayna felt almost ashamed. "Erik, don't be rediculous - " "Illayna.. please, it's too dangerous, don't let yourself be fooled by that man, all they want is what is rightfully yours. They'd do anything to claim Greymere." "I won't let that happen Erik. I'd rather die, than let all we've sacrificed be lost.. I want peace, Erik, not war." Illayna clicked her heals into the horses sides and drove it into a strong canter, catching up with the men of her color. Erik quietly branched off to join his house in their hunt. His eyes longingly watching after Illayna. He wondered, if she even knew how much he truly loved her, more than the friend she was.

Illayna focused, and steadied her bow, and the arrow notched with it. She spotted a doe, not too far into the hunt, and as the barks and howls of the dogs startled it, and it turned to dart off, she raised her bow, drew back on the string, and let the arrow fly without so much as a moments hesitation. The arrow breezed it's way through the air, and struck true to her target. The doe fell, and Richard nodded his approval, sending two men to collect it. That was one down.
 
As the Narvarshal group sheared off from the rest and galloped away, the first cheer rose from the crowd, drawing his gaze. He saw Greymere soldiers moving towards a downed doe and he nodded, granting a measure of respect for the worthy foe, a small part of him wondering who had struck first. A shout from his own group turned his head back around before he could tell though and he saw another deer break from the forest and sprint away. His hands slowly raised his bow but before he could let loose, another arrow flew straight and true, striking the deer in the neck and sending it tumbling to the ground. Turning, he saw Lord Aquitaine raise his fist and give a shout then send his men to retrieve it. In the moment of silence that followed, the two men’s gazes met and Marcus saluted the man before trotting over. “Wonderful shot, milord” he said, watching the men retrieve the deer and load it onto a trailing wagon. “You fired before I could even think about it.” Lord Aquitaine studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Let that be a lesson for you, Marcus. Don’t cross your Lord when he can fire faster than you can.” With that, the Lord spurred his horse away from the High Knight, leaving him staring in shock.

The threat had been plain as day, though they were couched in words that could be taken many ways, and Marcus made a note of it. Clearly the events of the night before had not been forgotten after all and that thought stayed in his mind for the rest of the morning as the hunt continued, each kingdom’s party scoring hits. Lord Jacob’s men took down two deer, one fox, and a buck, facts that were made clear when he rode by to gloat. Marcus and his men managed to take down one more buck and flush a flock of quail, claiming two of them before the rest flew away. When the bugle call singled the end of the morning ride, the knight reined his horse in and led his group over to the large field where everyone gathered. This was the midway point, where the groups would rest and lunch would be served. Sliding off his horse and handing it over to one of his men, Marcus went in search of food, finding plates of fresh bread, vegetables, and roast venison. Gathering two up, he found his Lord and handed one over. “We had a successful morning, milord” he said as the other man took the offered plate, staring at it for a moment before looking up. “Greymere had a better morning, Marcus, something that I’m sure made you happy.” With those words, the man reached out and took Marcus’s plate from him, swapping his in its place. Marcus stared down at it, then at his lord, an eyebrow quirking but instead of explaining, the Lord simply turned and walked away.

Shaking his head, Marcus moved over towards his men, the message from Lord Aquitaine very clear. The High Knight had lost his Lord’s trust and all because of his association with Lady Illayna, one that he’d only just begun. After exchanging greetings and small talk, he let his gaze wander over the gathered crowd. He saw Lord Jacob’s first and gave a nod of greeting then saw his leader talking to another High Lord next. Moving from there, he kept looking until he found what he sought, spotting her on the other side of the field. She was as beautiful as ever and seemed at peace among her group, her animated movements bringing a smile to his face. When he finally pulled his gaze away, he found a man standing at his side. Recognizing the High Knight of Merivale, he nodded in respect. The other man returned it and then glanced across the way, seeing the Greymere group. “She’s a thing of beauty. I can understand what you see in her.” Marcus started to speak but the other man held up his hand, stopping him. “Who you talk to is your business. How it affects my country is mine. This war you wage with Greymere is devastating families and lives and now my country is going to join it.” He paused, glancing around for a moment before stepping closer, his voice lowering a notch. “Sometimes, drastic measures require drastic steps from brave men. I think you might just be one of them, Sir Marcus.” The words finally done, the Knight raised his glass of mead in salute and then turned, disappearing into the crowd. Marcus glanced over at Illayna again, a smile returning to his face as he thought about what the other man had said. They were simply words, spoken between warriors, but Marcus knew they had meaning. It was time to change the fates of their kingdoms – Narvashal’s, Greymere’s, and Merivale’s – and it all started with him. Finishing off his drink he handed the empty cup to one of his men and then strolled through the crowd, heading towards the Greymere group.
 
Illayna stood, her bow delicately propped against a tree with her quiver, and laughter passed her lips as she endured the humor of her comrades. Her father laughed merrily, and raised his glass of mead in cheer. They'd had a good morning, Illayna and Richard had managed to snag two bucks, three doe, a fox and a rabbit. It was no surprise to her, when Erik approached their group to congratulate them on their good morning. He brought with him, his small group of men. Erik never did travel in large company, Illayna knew this. He was Poet Laureate, he wrote words so alluring, so enchanting, that it was obvious why he had been chosen to lead the house of their God. "Quite the shot you have, M'Lady. Might I ask where you learned to hunt?" Though he knew the answer, she could see the curiosity in the eyes of his men. "My mother taught me, when I was young. I've no brothers, so it was only just that I humor my father, and hunt along side him." She smiled sweetly and leaned to kiss the forehead of her father as she mentioned him. The man merrily smiled, and patted her elbow. No longer truly weary of the enemies that surrounded them.

Illayna let slender digits brush small curls from her face. A few strands had fallen loose from the ride. Though she did it more so to avoid meeting the gaze of Erik. His eyes never left her, she could feel it, and she was wondering why it was he was so intently worried about her well being. As children, he'd often encouraged her.. no so bright ideas, and usually tromped right along beside her in her wondrous but troublesome adventures. "I'm certain the House of Kalona had a good morning, Lord Erik?" The man nodded, his mouth quirked at the corners. "We did M'lady, thanks to the blessing of your presence." Illayna felt a blush flourish in her cheeks, and the knowing laughter of the men of Kalona and Greymere alike. "Flattery will not win you the hunt M'lord. Certainly you have better skills, than you do charm." Illayna shot back playfully. Erik grinned, the expression almost made him appear boyish and young. Like he had back then, whereas now, he was worn from battle. Even the Gods had enemies.

"I 'ave long to pester you M'lady, with my boyish charm, and heavy flattery. The festivities hath only just begun." Together they laughed, but she noticed Eriks laughter was cut short, and when she peered upon his face, his eyes were looking elsewhere, his face stern and his jaw clenched. She followed his line of sight to see Marcus quickly approaching. The first hand that twitched, had Illayna reacting. She threw up her hand, to halt any motions to act against him. Her voice soft, yet powerful. "Halt.. he's not the one we need worry of. He's shown more restraint than his Lord, he is welcomed in our presence. I owe him my life." With her words, worried glanced peered her way, but all hands relaxed and eased away from any near weapons. Illayna waited until Marcus was in ear shot before she spoke again. Her tone cold, but she was certain he'd catch the warmth, the want, the welcome beneath it.. the look in her eyes could say it all.

Illayna wanted him, Illayna wanted to know him, more than she'd ever wanted to know anyone else, and it pained her heart to treat him like an enemy. "Welcome, Sir Marcus. " She gave what appeared to be a forced smile. She'd always been good at showmanship. Taking a few steps, to close the distance between them she dropped her tone, to the warm, soft, hushed whisper she'd taken with him that night on the balcony. "Thank you.. for last night." She spoke so only he could hear, before glancing back over her shoulder.
 
The minute he started walking, Marcus said a silent prayer to the Goddess, wanting a cure for the insanity that had taken hold inside him. He knew what he was doing was crazy, knew it would lead to trouble, and yet his feet kept on walking, pulling him towards a destiny that would either be his salvation or his end. Merivale’s High Knight had hit it on the head though; drastic measures required drastic steps sometimes and he’d taken a few of those in his lifetime. What was one more if it led to a greater good? Lives hung in the balance, innocents as well as warriors, and he could possibly make a difference if he’d just try. All his adult life he had fought on the battlefield, shedding blood, all in the name of saving lives. Now he had a chance, however small, to do the very same thing without violence and for more than just Narvashal. How could he not try? When he looked at it from that perspective, the decision he was making as he strolled across the field was an easy one, one that took no thought though, admittedly, it did make him quake inside just a tiny bit.

He knew the instant Lord Aquitaine saw what he was doing because he left his conversation and began moving towards him, a look of anger on his face. Before he got very far though another man stepped from the crowd and blocked his path. Marcus smiled when he heard Merivale’s High Knight hail Aquitaine, congratulating him on Narvashal’s good luck that morning, and he used the distraction to slip on past, well aware that he wasn’t the only brave man that day. As he neared the Greymere group, his eyes fell on Lady Illayna and the man that she spoke with. He didn’t recognize him but from the way the two were carrying on, they obviously knew each other well. Her laughter rang clear, cutting across the distance to assault his ears, and it was quickly followed by the man’s, at least until he turned and saw Marcus. The mood changed so fast after that Marcus went on high alert, his body humming with that weird energy that always gripped him right before a battle. As the Greymere men reached for weapons, the High Knight kept his hands loose at his side, his bow slung over his back and his knife still in its sheath. He heard the Princess speak, her words barking an order to them, and when she turned and looked at him, he paused in his step. Her tone had been rough, strident, almost cool, but the look on her face told a different tale, and he graced her with a smile, offering a deep bow to her words.

“Your Highness” he answered in return. “I came to offer my congratulations for a successful hunt this morning. Keep this up and you’ll best Narvashal for sure.” When she closed the distance to him, he did the same, knowing that all eyes were probably on them. What would occur next had to be done just right or this effort would fail before it even started. Lowering his gaze to hers, he nodded. “It was my pleasure” he murmured in response to her thanks, letting the smile that he held display how he felt. Being this close to her had his heart beating fast and it took all of his willpower not to pull her close and claim those lips that smiled back. When she looked back at her group, he took a moment to do the same, making sure to make eye contact with each of her men first, leaving her friend for last. The look of anger that he received in return brought a slight quirk to his lips but he schooled his emotions after that and simply gave a small nod of respect. He bore no ill will towards the man but clearly the same couldn’t be said in return and for the first time he wondered if he had competition for the Lady’s heart, a thought that drove a spike of angst through his soul. He hadn’t come there to steal her away though and the minute that he remembered that, he drew himself up straight and stepped around her, striding towards the group. He stopped about ten feet away and watched them in silence before bringing his arm up and lightly thumping his chest in an old military salute to a fellow comrade. “Good men of Greymere, I offer my respect for your successful hunt this morning and a friendly challenge. Beat Narvashal again this afternoon and drinks will be on me tonight.” He waited a moment for the murmurs to start and then gave a curt nod, turning so that he faced the man who came next. Lord Ulric, Lady Illayna’s father, stood near the back of the group surrounded by his guards but he watched Marcus’s every move like a hawk watches its prey. “Your men impress me, Lord Ulric. You should be proud.” With that, he gave a deep bow to the man and then turned, striding away. When he came abreast of Illayna again, he paused and looked at her, a quirky grin on his face. “Might I add that you look ravishing this day, Princess” he murmured so only she could hear, letting his eyes sweep over her lightly, the look clearly the way a man looks at a woman that he finds attractive. “Perhaps we can finish our walk sometime soon.” With that, he moved off into the crowd, rapidly putting distance between himself and both the Greymere and Narvashal groups, wanting some time for his actions to sink in before returning to his horse.
 
Illaynas body went rigid as we walked past her, but she did not turn around. She kept her back to them and her eyes forward. She listened to the exchange of words, Ulrics voice sounding loud, and proud. " We thank you, High Knight of Narvashal, for your actions and words of kindness. We.. would like to return the congratulations on Narvashals luck this morn. However, we owe our bounty to the Princess, whose mark has never been missed." With that Ulric dismissed the man who obviously dismissed himself with a bow. Illayna had turned partially to see the even, to watch the interaction and mark in her mind. Marcus was being bold, he was trying.. he was really trying to create some edge of peace. He was giving their goal hope.

Hope. The word echoed in the back of her mind, and it was like a spark flourished through her. Something inside of her lifted, and she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She felt herself blush as Marcus spoke to her, looked her once over, then made his way back to his steed. She watched after him, her mind and heart racing. How did such a man, put her through such emotions so easily? This, this was the Goddesses will. Marcus, was the will of the Goddess. Illayna would honor it. She turned to make her way back to the rest of the group when she was met again with Erik, the look in his eyes almost hurt. But his words came harsh, cold, and almost cruel. "You belong to the Goddess Illayna.. remember that. Will you betray her for such foolishness as a mans lies?" Illayna felt the hatred for Marcus like venom in those words. She merely smiled, Illayna was simply incorrigible. " Erik, please, jealousy does not become a man of the Gods. " Erik look flustered, so she had known? " I won't give up on you Illayna.. " She felt the urge to frown but she smiled politely and simply dismissed herself from the conversation. Glancing over her shoulder once to watch the trail of Marcus, before grabbing her bow and joining the rest of their group.

They all saddled up, and prepared for the second round of the hunt. Illaynas mind was already twisting, reeling, coming up with ways she could finish that walk with Marcus, tonight it would be her turn to lead him astray from the crowd, and she would encourage his bravery, and reward it. She only wished she could return it, but she was afraid of Aquitaine, he was man of action, her father was a man of words. They were the sun and the moon in comparison, and Illayna was caught somewhere in the middle, with a man who bewitched her heart.
 
As he moved through the crowd of nobles and soldiers that filled the field, Marcus wondered if his efforts would fail. He’d done something unexpected, something unique, by approaching the Greymere soldiers and congratulating them. They’d been bitter enemies for years so it was most likely the first such exchange between them ever and that alone would have shocked them. The murmurs had started the minute he’d issued his challenge, murmurs that he hoped were good; every soldier liked a bet, especially one that wet their lips if they won and he was counting on that. He needed to get them thinking, to see him as just another soldier, not as their enemy and everything he’d done back there was for that purpose. Nodding to a fellow soldier as he moved into the trees at the edge of the field, his mind played back Lord Ulric’s words, spoken in response to his own. They had been respectful and kind, the words of a friend to a friend, not an enemy to an enemy. Of course, they could have simply been polite because of where they occurred but Marcus wasn’t sure about that.

Those thoughts led him to Illayna next and an image of her entered his brain as he stopped to lean against a tree. She’d played her part well, acting diplomatically while letting him know it was a game, and the praise she’d received from her father had warmed his heart. Not only was she beautiful and sweet, she was also a good hunter, a skill that spoke to the warrior in him. The Goddess had chosen well in that one, he thought, as a smile curled his lips. Perhaps, though, Illayna was destined for more than just the life of an acolyte, destined to a greatness that was only beginning to form. That idea sent a shiver down his spine because he also wondered what role the Goddess had in store for him too. Whatever it was, he would be ready for it, would tackle it like he tackled everything else in his life – with bravery, strength, and devotion – and if it involved her, he would do it with a bounce in his step too. The very idea of a nighttime walk, finishing what they’d started in the garden, had his muscles tingling and his blood surging and with a groan he pushed off from the tree and re-entered the field. His eyes automatically sought her out, seeing her atop her horse, prepared to move out and with a swift gait he made his way to his own group.

Slipping among them, he felt the stares and heard the occasional murmur but he ignored them all. Words nor force would win his men to his cause, he knew; only actions and results would do that and he hoped to provide both by the end of Midsummer Festival. Climbing up on his horse, he turned her in place and cantered over to Lord Aquitaine’s side, standing at the head at the group. Marcus could sense the anger wafting off the man, knew that he was seething inside, but the knight ignored it. When the words finally came, they were bitter and charged, drawing Marcus around to face him. “Marcus, you’ve gone to far this time. You’ve embarrassed me and Narvashal with your foolish antics and you will pay the price.” The High Knight studied his Lord for a moment and then shook his head. “I have done neither, milord, and you should realize that. Through my efforts I simply attempt to smooth over the ill will our actions created last night and perhaps instill a false sense of hope in the Greymere soldiers. With luck, it will give us an edge on the battlefield when next we meet.” His gaze remained on the Lord when he finished speaking, watching the man digest his words. When he gave him a sharp nod of respect, Marcus relaxed just a bit. “You speak wisely, Marcus, but do not try my patience. A little warning next time would be best.” The knight gave a sharp nod and then listened to the bugle signal the start of the afternoon hunt. Raising his fist, he shouted orders to the men and set off. As he galloped out of the field, he felt another horse come along side him and glanced over at the Merivale High Knight. “Well done, Sir Marcus” he murmured softly and with a thump of fist against chest, he turned and sent his horse galloping off. As Marcus watched the dust kick up in his wake, a smile graced his face; perhaps his first ally, aside from Lady Illayna, had just made himself known.
 
Illayna waited for the sound to head out, and when the orders had been barked they moved. The evening hunt had proved to be as bountiful as the morning. When they returned to the camp they established their ground, and counted their bounty. As they relayed the results they waited for the others to do the same. Illayna dismounted and began to remove her equipment, removing the saddle, bridle and bit from the horse before leading it to water and letting it graze. The stable boy would take it from there. The day was growing old, and the light was dimming. An orange glow had been casted over the camp from the burning fires and lanterns that were being strewn about. Night was settling in, therefore the hunt had come to an end. She was glad, her body ached in places it shouldn't from the hard ride. Excusing herself, she picked her way slowly away from the camp to the small river that ran close to the city. Crouching down she removed her gloves and dipped her hands into the cool waters. She sighed contentedly and sat there for a moment.

She then fell back to sit on her bottom, and plucked off her boots. Rolling up her pants to her knees she let her feet dangle into the water, the cool running stream felt amazing against her flesh. She leaned back and relaxed. She was certain her father and his men were too occupied with boasting about their bounty that they wouldn't notice she'd snuck off. Closing her eyes she tilted her head back and her face towards the cooling glow of the brilliant moon. "Oh Goddess... please...what path have you set for me? What am I supposed to do?" She didn't expect an outright answer, but she felt the wind move, and the earth rustle around her. Her nose was met with a familiar scent she couldn't quite place then it all fell. But she felt more at ease than she had before.

So the Goddess was still with her. Thank Goodness. She'd have been lost, if the Goddess had abandoned her, for her longings of a man.. prone for war, but a man who made such a mark in history by so much as speaking to a man his king called enemy. Marcus had the makings of a great leader... a great man.. a great.. King. Marcus was destined for so much more than knight hood. Perhaps Illayna could play a part in him finding his place in destiny. She smiled to herself and sat up right, dipping her hands back into the cool waters, rinsing the blood and earth from them. The kills had been easy, hunting was as much a part of her, as it was the goddess and the earth. She enjoyed it, it brought her closer to the Goddess.. but right now.. Illayna wasn't focused, she knew she wasn't. She was a mix of emotions and thoughts, this was all a mess and she needed to sort through it.
 
The afternoon hunt flowed smoothly with the dogs baying often, flushing creatures from their hiding places so the various groups could go after them. Marcus managed to fire his bow a few times, downing two bucks and a wild turkey, but Lord Aquitaine got more than him once again. The man was a machine out there, trotting through the trees and across the open fields with abandon, his shots hitting fast and hard each time he sent them. It was almost as if he was trying to single-handily beat Greymere in the hunt, ensuring the failure of Marcus’s bet with them, while also making it clear to his High Knight which of the two was the stronger killing machine. He recognized the game for what it was though, a way to undermine the High Knight without making it appear as if he didn’t trust him. Marcus wasn’t fooled, not in the least, so when the hunt came to an end, he sighed with relief.

The trek back to the city was slow and he stuck to himself for the most part, his eyes keeping a close watch on his Lord while also glancing around at the other groups. He never saw Illayna after the mid day break but he thought about her often, wondering how she fared and if she got in trouble for his visit to her group. Finishing that walk with her was a top priority on his list but he knew it might not happen that night, especially if Greymere won the challenge. When they finally rolled through the gates of their camp, their kills that day were quickly tallied up and the meat taken to the processing center for preparation for that night’s feast. Marcus went to the bathhouse first, washing the day’s grime from his skin, and then to his tent where he slipped into a change of clothes before strapping on his sword, with a few knives tucked here and there for good measure. Slipping back out into the fading light, he saw Cedric waiting for him and gave a nod. His second began walking beside him as they moved back towards the horses. “So it’s true? You challenged the Greymere group and will have to drink with them if they win?” Marcus glanced at him and simply nodded. Cedric studied him for a moment and then shook his head. “You’re a fool, Marcus, a complete and utter fool. This path you walk will get you killed. There are already rumors.”

Marcus stopped and turned, looking at Cedric. “Let there be rumors, Cedric. Hell, let someone try something. I’m watching my back.” He hesitated then, not sure how much he could trust Cedric and deciding not to take the chance. “Drinking with the Greymere troops hurts nothing. It wins us points with the High King and lets me learn a little more about our enemies. It’s worth it in my opinion.” Cedric gave a sharp laugh in response. “If I thought for one minute that’s why you are doing it, Marcus, then I would agree. But we both know you’re not.” He turned to go then, taking a few steps before turning back. “I’ve followed you since we were kids, even when I thought your choices were stupid. I’m still following you. I just hope you know what you’re doing. I’ll see you at the horses in a few moments.” As Marcus watched him walk off, he considered what had just happened. He’d been worried about Cedric, how he felt, but maybe he’d been wrong. Still, he’d be cautious around him to be safe.

Checking in with the men as he made his rounds, he realized morale was good and not everyone was against what he was doing. Some men congratulated him on talking to the Greymere troops, something that surprised him greatly. Eventually he ended up at the horses, nodding to Cedric as he took the reins of Ariana. It was then that the final tally came in. Greymere had won, bringing down five more animals than Narvashal had during the hunt. “Oh, this should be an interesting night indeed” Cedric said as he climbed atop his horse. Marcus joined him and gave a laugh. “Think of it as an adventure, Cedric, one that could change the future.” With that, they rode out, turning their horses towards the Greymere camp. Marcus rode in silence, wondering how his arrival there would be taken, but a challenge was a challenge and he would hold up his end of the bargain if anyone agreed to take it. As they neared the outer edge, he motioned for Cedric to stay in sight, but back a ways, and then cantered forward, hailing their guards. When one stepped forward, Marcus gave a slight bow from where he sat, being sure to keep his hands in full sight. “Good eve, noble guard. I’m High Knight Marcus Steele of Narvashal. I issued a challenge to your men during the hunt today and your group won. Drinks are on me for any man that cares to accept their winnings. You just have to be willing to share time with two Narvashal knights. Would you kindly pass the word through your ranks?” He watched as the guard studied him for a moment then cocked his head and nodded. Turning, he spoke to the man next to him who passed the word. The guard then turned back to him. “Wait here, knight and those that want to join you will come out.” He looked past him to Cedric then back at Marcus. “I would join you myself were I not on duty.” Marcus smiled in return, gave a small nod, and then moved his horse back slightly, settling in to wait.
 
Illayna stayed there for quite some time. Oblivious to the time, and the lateness of it all. -- Richard prowled the camp, he'd started at the Lady's tent.. and when he had not found her there he moved to see whom had approached the post, and when he saw Sir Marcus, and not the nearest sight of Lady Illayna to boastfully point out they had won, he began to worry. Approaching the guardsmen on post, he nodded a respectful hello to Marcus, before turning to the man on duty. "Knight, has the Lady Illayna come back to camp?" "No sir, we've not yet seen her." The mans voice sounded very strained, as if he did not know if he need to worry, or remain calm. Richards body immediately tensed up. He looked up to the High Knight of Narvashal then. " Welcome Sir Marcus, perhaps you have seen the Lady Illayna, since she so fond of your antics?" Even though the man had yet to answer, Richard anticipated a no. Turning to the guard on post. " If the lady returns please alert me immediately."

He then raised his hand and called to two other passing Greymere knights. "You men! Round up your horses, the Lady is still missing!" It was not like Illayna to not return to camp, especially after the ordeal of the night before. "Forgive me sirs, but as soon as the lady is found, safely, I will join you for that drink." Richard offered Marcus a gruff..half smile, but he winked. Oh he knew much of young love, and he could see it in the eyes of Marcus each time Illayna came even a hint of being near. Though he knew how dangerous it was, he wished nothing more than for his lady to be happy. --

Illayna sighed softly, figuring it was time to head back to camp, Richard was probably creating a fuss. Gathering up her gloves she tucked them back into her quiver with her arrows. She then slung it over her shoulder and tied her bow in place before picking up her boots. Her feet were still damp and she did not want to put them on. She started her trek back to camp, taking her time despite her knowing how Richard was likely barking out commands, and fretting much like a sheltered mother. Taking a deep breath she got back onto the trail towards camp, the walk had been long and lonely. But she'd liked the quiet time. The Goddess' unspoken words tickling against her in the gentle breeze that seemed to follow her. When she arrived, only moments after Richards freak out, she noticed the look on his face when he spotted her, but her attention immediately diverted to Marcus and another rider. She made her approach a soft smile on her face.

'Well well, The Narvashal boys come to make good on their High Knights oh so.. bold bet? " She laughed softly, the sound like silver bells chiming. She unshouldered her bow and quiver, passing them off to another knight who took them without question she mouthed a soft hearted apology to the still worried looking Richard. " I decided to walk back, Sir Richard, forgive me?" "Of course my lady." He then stepped a few paces away to give permission to a few men who wished to drink with the knights of Narvashal. "Good hunting today, Sir Marcus. I hear Narvashal had quite the bounty, I am doubly impressed." She then looked to Cedric. "Good day sir, I'm afraid we've not been introduced. I am Illayna, and you are?"
 
The night grew silent around them after that as Marcus waited to see what kind of response his challenge would get. The guards had resumed their post and were ignoring him now, though he saw the one guard glance his way every now and then. Turning in his saddle, he looked at Cedric, smiling at how patiently the other man was waiting. When he got a soft nod in return, Marcus turned back, just in time to see Illayna’s bodyguard slip through the gate. Sir Richard approached the guards on duty and spoke with them briefly then turned to Marcus and asked if he’d seen the Princess. His term of the word –antics- brought a smile to the Knight’s face which he used to hide the worry that he instantly felt. She was missing? The wily woman had slipped her guard apparently and left camp. “I haven’t seen her, Sir Richard, but if you would like our help in searching for you, we will grant it willingly. After all, we wouldn’t want to keep the drink waiting.” It was a joke of course; Marcus cared not one wit about the drink right then, not with the woman that he liked missing. He knew it would cause a stir within the capital city if Narvashal soldiers worked side by side with Greymere to find the missing Princess, and would send Lord Aquitaine into a snit, but he neither of those were concerns to him then.

Before Sir Richard could answer him though, an apparition appeared from out of the dark, her glowing form gliding across the ground quietly, each step bringing her closer to them. Her feet were bare and Marcus couldn’t help but glide his eyes up her figure, taking all of her in, his heart thumping inside his chest. She was as lovely as ever and looked even more carefree than the last time he’d seen her. When she approached Marcus and Cedric, his eyes followed her every move, a smile gracing his lips. Dipping his head to her words, the smile changed to an impish grin. “But of course, milady” Marcus said in answer, his words light and friendly. “I am nothing if not a man of my word. You won the challenge fair and square.” He glanced over to Sir Richard then, seeing the men that had come through the gate on horseback, and gave a tiny nod. There were four of them, which were better numbers than he had hoped for, and it was a start. Turning his attention back to Illayna he nodded. “I wouldn’t be too impressed, Princess. You beat us by five after all.”

Turning in his saddle then he watched as she approached Cedric and introduced herself, seeing the smile that he graced her with. He knew his friend pretty well and saw the way his body tightened a little, fighting his natural instincts. Cedric might follow him but Illayna was the enemy to him and it would take a while to change that. The young knight finally bowed to her and with a sweep of his arm, introduced himself. “It is a pleasure to finally meet the woman that has bewitched my High Knight” he murmured with a twinkle in his eye. “I am Sir Cedric, second to Marcus as well as his friend. I thought it best to accompany him tonight to ensure that he doesn’t get drunk under the table by your men.” With that, he stiffened in his seat and looked over towards her men, studying them carefully. Taking his cue, Marcus cantered his horse forward a bit, being careful to stay clear of her. Facing the men, he gave a respectful nod and thumped his hand against his chest. “Thank you for accepting my offer for drinks, men. I look forward to sharing stories with you.” Turning in his saddle, he took in Sir Richard and Lady Illayna next. “Sir Richard, I believe you can join us for that drink now? And Princess…your attendance would be welcome also.” He didn’t know if she would accept or not but he welcomed her company all the same.
 
"Bewitched? Surely you jest Sir. I think it is your High Knight who has bewitched me!" She laughed again. "It is an honor to meet you Sir Cedric." she replied respectfully. Before turning to head back through the gate towards camp. Stopping and turning once to meet Marcus' offer. " I wish not to impede upon the mens time for relaxing. Go now, and drink to your hearts content Sir Marcus, you all deserve it." She then looked to Richard. "Go Richard, I'll be fine here." He nodded once but before he could interject to convince her to tag along she'd slipped through the gate and out of ear shot. That was very odd. He'd had thought that Illayna, despite all odds, would have taken any chance to get close to Marcus, but she was very openly distancing herself. Quietly she made the trek back to her tent, set her boots down next to the entrance and grabbing a towel she headed to the bathe house.

After a small wash up she exited the bath house in time to see her father departing to join the others in the festivities around the roasting fires, and the dining tables. All kingdoms would meet tonight under the same moon around the same tables and share the same meals. Kings and knights alike.. She felt a knot in her stomach when she told herself she wasn't going, that it was no place for her.. and took it as an obvious sign, she needed to make an appearance. Sighing heavily she retrieved her boots after drying off her newly rinsed feet, and slipped them on. She then trekked to the stables to retrieve her horse. Slipping her boot into the stirrup she lifted herself up, and over. Settling into the saddle she took up the reigns and made the ride to the feast by herself.

When she arrived she stayed out of the gather crowd and slowly walked the outside. Admiring the large fires roasting the days catch, and the men gathering with their glasses of mead, and what have them. Illayna could see a few of the towns women flirting with the men, some of the kingdom women doing the same. Everyone mingled, and no one dared to declare they were better than the other. She sighed some and contemplated dismounting and joining, but something didn't feel right yet, she was looking for Lord Aquitaine.. they were not securely divided by the hunt.. and she wanted to steer clear of him tonight.
 
As Marcus sat atop his horse, his gaze followed Illayna’s movements, watching as she disappeared through the gate and headed into the Greymere camp. She’d turned down his offer to join them, using the men’s fun as her excuse, but a small part of him wondered about that. Her friendly words with Cedric had implied interest in Marcus but her actions could be seen as something else entirely. He glanced over at Sir Richard, hoping he might have a clue, but the man was watching the Princess also and didn’t notice his gaze. With a muttered comment under his breath, Marcus turned his horse around and called to the Greymere men, then cantered off into the night. The feast would start in a few hours, giving them plenty of time to wet their whistles a bit before duty called them once again. As Cedric fell into place on one side and Sir Richard on the other, they made their way through the darkened streets, finally coming to rest in front of one of the fabled Aurelian inns. Hopping off his horse and tethering it up, he led the way in, calling to the staff to set some tables aside for them.

The minute the Greymere men came through the door behind him, all chatter in the inn seemed to stop as the patrons turned and stared at them. Marcus let a grin fall into place, knowing what this scene must look like, but otherwise ignored it. Flopping down at the table, he waited, watching as the others hesitated for a moment before taking their seats too. Mead was soon brought out, along with some hot bread, and Marcus held up his mug. “I offer a toast to the men of Greymere for a job well done today” he said. Taking a sip, he waited until the others did also and then continued. “Our kingdoms have had our differences, and been at war for years, but I for one am tired of it. We might be enemies outside of the Festival but for the duration of it, we are simply comrades so let’s enjoy this night together, share stories, and get to know one another. Who knows, it might be the first step towards something greater.” When he finished speaking, he saw the look on Cedric’s face but simply tipped his head to him. The poor man would worry himself to death if he didn’t watch out.

Soon the mead began to flow, each man drinking his share while regaling the others with tales. Sir Richard had a few great ones that caught Marcus’s ear and he grew to respect him more with each one. Before long, other soldiers from other kingdoms had joined them, adding to the general laughter and good vibes that filled the room. When the time came to break it up, each man stood with reluctance and even exchanged a few handshakes. Sir Richard even took the time to clasp Marcus on the shoulder and thank him for the night. Soon they were back on their horses and heading towards the feast, Greymere’s troops out front with Marcus and Cedric near the rear. Leaning over in his saddle, Cedric flashed the High Knight a grin. “I have to admit, you wily coot, you might just be onto something here. I actually enjoyed myself back there.” Marcus grinned in return and simply gave a nod then called out his goodbyes. He and Cedric peeled off and soon joined the rest of the Narvashal crew, taking their seats at the bountiful tables. It didn’t take him long to realize that Lord Aquitaine wasn’t in the group though and his internal warning bells went off. Leaning over, he inquired with a few of his men but no one knew where the Lord was that night and that worried Marcus. When he stood from the table, Cedric rose too. “What’s wrong Marcus?” he asked, worry in his voice. “I’m not sure, Cedric. Just a feeling. Stay here with the men. I’ll be back.” With that, the High Knight slipped from the group and moved off into the dark, slipping into the shadows that crawled along the edges of the feast. He didn’t like the fact that Lord Aquitaine was missing, especially on the night that he’d feasted with Greymere troops, and he knew he needed to find him post haste. With a dark look to his eyes, Marcus set out, slipping through the night.
 
Illayna felt as if something was terribly amiss. She didn't like the feeling and it would not settle. Her stomach was full of knots. She pulled back on the reigns and steered the horse away from the festivities, they were far enough away no one would see her, nor hear her. She relaxed, and just as she closed her eyes to take in a breath in hopes to calm her nerves, the steed reared up and Illayna to startled to scream lost her balance and fell. The earth did not soften her fall, she could feel the branches and rocks jar into her flesh and muscles and bones and she winced letting out a whine. Her head throbbed and the pain felt like a hot fire shooting through her skull. Sitting up some and trying to regain her barrings she groped at the earth. Eyes scanning the twisting darkness. The world seemed to dance and swim in her vision, blur together and sway.

The steed had cantered off in its frightened state and Illayna still could not find what had spooked it so. She closed her eyes tightly and finally her hands found a tree for support. She gripped it, and pulled herself up to her feet, leaning against it for support. The soles of her boots dug into the earth and a free hand shot to her head and rubbed at her damp temple. She was bleeding.. she could smell the copper in the air. "Who's there?" she whispered painfully. She could hear cautious, hesitated foot steps. It was dark, and she was too far away from the festivities for it to be a concerned member. It was someone else and whoever it was, had spooked her horse. She opened her eyes and moved swiftly, drawing the dagger from her belt. She'd never removed it like she had her bow and arrows.

The dagger gleamed in the light, the blade singing as it sliced through the air. She still could not see.. it was like her vision had gone black from the searing pain in her skull. "I'm warning you, speak now.. " Her tone soft, yet not frightened, and still it held the power gifted to her by the goddess. The right to her throne. Illayna however on the inside felt utterly helpless. She staggered away from the tree. Still trying to place who was there with her.
 
The noise of the festivities rose up around him but Marcus tuned it all out, his steps sure and quiet as he moved along the ground, skirting in and out of the shadows. Something was wrong, something that he couldn’t put his finger on but knew deep in his gut and the need for action pulled at him. Reaching one particularly dark corner near a shop, he paused and looked out over the scene before him, his eyes darting from men to women rapidly, cataloging them in his head. He saw Lord Jacobs and his High Knight entertaining a group of citizens from multiple kingdoms, their merriment evident even at a distance. Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement to his left and glanced that way, seeing a Greymere soldier walking nearby. His gaze tracked the man slowly, watching to see where he went, and when he settled at a table, Marcus moved forward a bit. There were others in the Greymere garb sitting there and he slowly looked them over, seeing some of the men he’d shared drinks with earlier. Moving his sight further down the tables, he spotted Lord Ulric next and sitting near him was Sir Richard.

Lady Illayna was conspicuously absent from the table though, a fact that caused Marcus’s heart to flutter within his chest, especially knowing that his Lord was missing too. Glancing up at the night sky, he quickly said a tiny prayer to the Goddess, asking that she keep the Princess safe. No outward sign was returned but an instant of pain stabbed him in the ribs, causing him to momentarily lose his breath. Needing nothing more to spur him on, Marcus quickly made his way through the festivities and onto the path back towards camp, moving slowly and looking for any signs of trouble as he went. The sky was pitch black and nothing but night sounds came to his ears at first but as he walked, he thought he heard the clip clop of hooves coming near. Slipping into the edge of the tree line, he waited to see who approached but his eyes widened in shock when he saw the empty saddled horse, recognizing it as Lady Illayna’s immediately.

It was running in a panic, pounding down the path, head tossing left and right in fright and he let it go, his body going rigid with adrenaline as it passed. “I’m coming, Illayna” he whispered into the night as he moved through the trees now, stalking forward swiftly, every step very much that of a warrior on the hunt. His mind raced with emotions and thoughts and he struggled to catch his breath, fear for her safety suddenly flaring deep inside of him. Moving rapidly in the direction the horse had come, he listened as the sounds of the night changed, the hoot of the owl disappearing and the song of the frogs and crickets fading. Slowing down, he moved from tree to tree, staying vigilant, creeping every closer to the area up ahead. When he heard the rustling, he paused and crouched, trying to determine what he faced, frowning when he saw one shape then two more peel from the trees and move onto the path. Three men from the looks of it, each one rapidly approaching something only they could see. Waiting a few moments, Marcus soon followed, his hand resting nearing the pommel of his sword.
 
Illayna was greeted with silence. When suddenly the pain struck across her face, she'd felt the sting of flesh and something harder like rings across her cheek. The force was enough to send her sprawling back into the sodden earth. Her dagger skiddering into the brush. She didn't scream, she didn't whine or yelp. Someone was clearly enjoying tormenting her. The world spun even harder, instinct kicked it. Illayna made to get up, when deep laughter split her ears. She reached for the dagger, and in the next instant, a man screamed. Curse words filled the air, and Illayna came stumbling out of the brush, barely making sense of which direction she was going or coming from. The man followed her, snatching at her and barely missing. His mumbled curses result of a wounded arm her nursed close to his torso.

His voice sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't place it. She whirled around again, the world spinning. One man became three.. than four and she grit her teeth. Spacing her footing and baring her ground. She made an aimless wide swipe, before dropping the dagger. It clattered to the ground and she collapsed. Her energy exhausted and the pain searing through her skull burned down her spine and the world went a sudden bright white, then faded into darkness. She could hear the thudded footsteps come to a halt, than nothing. All the world was nothing. She could not see, she could near hear nor feel. She had lost consciousness.

--

Richard looked along the table and through the gather crowd. Worry consumed his face. His king gave him a questioning gaze and Richard merely smiled, waving off the air of concern and turned to a lesser knight. Whispering something in the mans ear, he excused himself from the table and made a round about the festivities. The Lady had yet to arrive. As he began towards the horses and unmanned steed lopped into view. The crest upon the saddle, and the centre of the bridal awarded Richards concern with a pang of deep fear. The Lady was in trouble, and her horse had managed to find its way back unmanned. Gathering the reigns of the unmanned steed he quickly mounted and kicked the horse into a run in the direction it had come from.
 
He stayed out of sight, stalking them as they moved, his body flowing fluidly through the trees with each step. His hand itched to draw the sword and strike first but until he knew what they were doing, he couldn’t. Silence coated him, the dark of the night oppressive in it clinginess, but it was soon shattered by maniacl laughter followed by the loud scream of a man in pain. The scream was just the first of the noise though as bodies began to slam through the trees, branches snapping loudly, feet pounding into the ground. Curses lit up the air next and Marcus moved towards the sound, fear spiking through his body instantly. As branches slapped at his face, Marcus ignored the pain and kept moving, his thoughts firmly on getting to Illayna regardless of the cost. The sounds turned then, heading back towards the road, and with an extra burst of energy, he burst from the trees and took in the scene before him, his battle hardened eyes assessing the danger immediately. Illayna was down, sprawled across the hard surface of the ground, arms splayed out as she collapsed. Surrounding her were four men, mere shadows in the night because of their dark clothing, all staring down at her. One clutched at his arm and as Marcus watched, he raised a booted foot with the intent to kick her hard in the side. The action drew him into motion and with a battle cry to wake the Goddess, Marcus drew a dagger and threw it. The blade sliced between two of the men and buried itself in the injured stranger’s shoulder, drawing another scream from his lips, instantly alerting the others.

As they turned, Marcus drew a second dagger, flipping it across the same space, this time grazing the thigh of the furthest man, wounding but not downing. With a curse, he drew his sword next, the swish of the blade as it slid from the scabbard echoing in the night. “Get away from her” he growled, his gaze focused squarely on the two men in front, both of whom had drawn their own swords. Before they could respond, he attacked, his blade sweeping hard towards the side of one, trying to disarm him quickly. The man parried the blow though and his partner struck at Marcus, the blade sliding across his ribs, drawing blood. Instead of hurting him though, it only fueled his anger and with the rapid movements of a seasoned fighter, he struck again and again, his sword looking for any opening he could find. Soon the two men were on the defensive, their blades slowing with each parry, one finally going down as Marcus’s blade skewered his stomach. His partner attacked hard, driving a blow across Marcus’s arm and then his thigh, dropping him to one knee with a groan.

The slightly injured third man who had stayed out of the fight suddenly moved forward, a dagger flicking from his hands to bury itself in the knight’s shoulder, causing numbness to sweep down his arm. Wounded and hurting, the blade slipped from his hand and he raised his head, eyes blazing with defiance. It was then that the pounding of hooves could be heard, racing down the road towards them. The three men left standing all hesitated, looking towards the sound then back towards Marcus. “We need to go now” the man who Marcus had grazed with a dagger said. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it and it took all of his concentration to stay focused. With a sharp nod, the men turned and headed for the forest, the two healthier ones supporting the badly injured one, leaving their dead comrade behind. They were gone in an instant, leaving Marcus alone with the Princess and with all the strength he could muster, he dragged his body across the ground to her side and reached out to check for her pulse. The steady beat of her heart was the last thing he felt and the sight of the horse with Sir Richard on top was the last that he saw before he passed out, his body hitting the ground with a thump.
 
Richard spotted Marcus just as he fell. The knight was weakened and injured, and just was the figure of Illayna beneath him. Richard quickly dismounted and brought the steed forward, with effort he hoisted Marcus first into the saddle and situated him so he would stay put. Securing the knight in the saddle, he then picked up Illayna. Her body lighter, easier to carry, as he'd down a million times in her child hood when she'd fallen asleep in the kings study, or in the library. He sighed both of them were injured, and he hadn't a clue as to why someone had attacked. Angered, every bit of him wanted to follow through the woods, but his place now was to ensure that these two get help immediately. Rather then taking them back the way he'd came, he took the road to the Greymere camp, and called to the guards at the post. "You there! Please! call the healer! I have two injured and in desperate need of attention!"

The Guard at the post took a few steps forward, and noticing the colors on Richards vest, nodded, and shouted out a call to the next post. The man then disappeared in the distance. The Gate Guard hurried them in, Leading them to a large tent, prepared if any injuries during the festivities were to occur. Richard laid Illayna upon a bed roll, and helped the guard ease Marcus down next. The Healer was fetched and she began to tend to both injured parties. "What happened Richard? Why is the Lady wounded?" Richard growled and gritted his teeth. "Someone attacked her off the side of the road, she never made it to the feast." The healer looked up at him with worried eyes then shook her head and continued to tend to Marcus, his injuries were far worse than Illaynas at the moment. "And the boy?" Richard bit back another growl. "I have right to believe he was protecting the Lady when he acquired injury.." She nodded, and quickly began to remove the tunic, and all material covering his torso. She noted the spot where Richard had removed a dagger. With quick ease and practiced hands she began to clean the wounds.

"Well, good thing is, it looks like they'll both pull through.. but right now, instead of being angry Richard, I need you to start cleaning an surface injuries you can find on the princess." She glanced over at the unconscious girl and sighed half heartedly. "The lady is brave.. and I have a feeling, she did not go down without a fight.. hopefully when she wakes she can identify her attacker." "I hope so.." Richard mumbled. Kneeling beside the bed roll, and rolling up his sleeves. He wrung out the damp towel and began to clean up the cut along Illaynas forehead. "Sir Richard, should I fetch King Ulric? .. " "No, best to let him enjoy the festivites and not give Aquitaine an excuse, nor Our Lord an excuse, to start an unnecessary break of treaty and upset the Goddess.. We'll discuss this with the king in the morning, when the Lady will hopefully be able to tell us what happened."

The Guard at the entrance nodded, and uneasily turned to guard the tent entrance. The worry on his face evident, but Richard had known Ulric for a very long time, news of the state of his daughter would inevitably, send him on a rampage, and into an unnecessary battle with Narvashal. Illayna flinched, as Richard tended to cleaning the gash. She flinched again and her eyes fluttered open. She swatted Richards hand away and sat up, slowly. A soft groan escaping her lips. Her head was still searing but she was starting to catch her barrings. "Richard...w-...w-here am I?" Richard looked confused and gently urged the princess to lay back down but she resisted. " In the infirmary My Lady." She scrunched her face in both pain and confusion and looked around, her. That was when she noticed Marcus. Her eyes went wide and her heart skipped a beat. " MARCUS!" She yelped, her voice a high pitched squeal of pain, she went to immediately go to his side but Richard detained her. "My Lady! Please! The Man will live.. but you need to rest! You're injured!" "Richard!" She sobbed and tucked her face into his shoulder. " This.. this is all my fault.. " She was crying. "He.... none of this would have happened.. if I had kept my mouth shut!" She sobbed again. Richard comforted the Princess, and after a bout of exhausted tears and self blame, she fell asleep. She'd exhausted what energy she had. The Healer finished tending to Marcus, and turned then to resettled Illayna and begin to stitch her wounds. "She'll be alright.. it will all pass.."

"I hope you're right.."
 
The man held him tight, arms locked around his, restraining Marcus so that he couldn’t move, couldn’t break loose, and couldn’t help her. He grunted and fought, his body jerking hard against his captor, but nothing worked, nothing broke him free as sweat poured down his face and his lungs heaved from the effort. “Let me go!” he grunted, the words pained, his blood staining the ground from the injuries he’d sustained. A laugh was all he got in return before the man suddenly forced the knight to his knees, slamming him into the dirt. “Not a chance, High Knight. You will kneel here and watch as we torture and kill her before dragging your beaten body before her father to be accused of the crime. After tonight, Greymere will rise to obliterate Narvashal from the face of the world once and for all!” The words were spoken vehemently through fetid breath and Marcus turned to look at the man. “You’re insane! Lord Ulric would never believe I’d do such a thing!” The man simply laughed some more. “Oh, I think he will, knight. His wife was raped and murdered by Narvashal soldiers once. When he sees what has happened to his daughter, he will go into a killing rage. Your death will be painful at his hands, of that I am sure.”

Marcus swore hard, the words learned on the battlefield, spittle flying from his lips. It earned him a hard smack across his jaw, snapping his head to the side momentarily. Strong fingers gripped his hair and forced him to look again though he tried not to do it. Illayna was in the arms of another man, restrained the same way he was, and a third one stood in front of her. His knife flicked out and drew a ragged cut across her cheek, drawing a scream from her lips. Two more flicks drew slashes across her forehead and her other cheek next then the blade slipped down and began to cut away her shirt. The man worked fast, rendering her clothes useless in no time at all, stripping her bare. Marcus tried to close his eyes, tried to block it out, but he was growing weaker in his blood loss. Twice he fought and twice he was stabbed for his efforts, drawing grunts from his lips. He wanted to keep fighting, wanted to break loose, but his body wouldn’t obey him and with an anguished cry he watched as her assailant took her on the dirt of the road, her screams slicing through the air and cleaving his heart in two. When he was done, her body was battered and bruised but soon became bloody as his knife went to work once again, slicing here, nicking there, drawing more screams from her lips. He watched as she finally passed out, her body going limp, ruined by the torture inflicted upon her. It was then that her assailant raised his knife and turned to look at Marcus with a grin. “It ends now, High Knight” he said, suddenly slamming his hand down, plunging the knife deep into the lady’s heart, taking her life.

With a gut wrenching scream, Marcus awakened, his body rocketing into a sitting position immediately. Gasping for breath, his eyes wide with fear, he struggled to look around him. He felt hands instantly, hands gripping at his body, and he fought them, thrashing in his place, his own smacking them away. “Get away from me! I have to save her!” he hollered, his voice neither calm nor controlled. “Calm down, High Knight. Please calm down!” The answered words were spoken softly with a begging tone and the hands settled back onto him again. “You’ve been injured and you need to rest. Trust me. Please.” Slowly, Marcus blinked away the sweat that rolled into his eyes and turned his head to gaze to look upon a human wearing a white tunic with a red cross emblazoned on its shoulder. A….healer? The thought slipped into his mind and he blinked some more, reality slowly coming back to him. The fight in the road, Illayna injured….her rape, her death, it had only been a dream. Reaching out, he gripped the arm of the healer and pulled the person close. “Where is Lady Illayna?” he asked, the words almost an order. “Where am I?”

The healer slowly pushed Marcus backwards toward the bed, speaking gently. “You are in the Greymere infirmary, Sir Marcus. Lady Illayna is safe and recovering from her injuries in her tent. You were severely wounded when Sir Richard brought you in and you’re thrashing is going to rip out the stitches I put in your skin. Please, lie still, and let me check you over.” Marcus stared for a moment, his brain finally hearing the words, and with a curt nod he settled back down. It was then that the pain hit him, washing over his body with a heat that felt like a thousand stabbing blades plunging inside him, drawing a deep moan from his lips. As the healer went to work, fingers gliding over his body, checking his wounds, Marcus replayed the scene in the woods. Someone had set up an ambush for Lady Illayna, someone who wanted her injured or worse, and he needed to know who had done it. Reaching out, he gripped the healer’s wrist and pulled them close. “I need to see Lady Illayna, to know she’s ok, and I need to speak with Sir Richard immediately.” As soon as he was finished speaking, Marcus began to sit up again, fighting through the pain that wracked him. The healer fought him, finally hollering for a guard to get help, knowing he could not stop the stubborn Knight no matter how hard he tried.
 
Illayna had spent the morning being pampered and bathed by her chamber maid. She felt weak and useless. When she'd finally been let go, she had gone to collect some wild flowers, and rinsed the stems. After bundling them together and tying them with a thick violet ribbon she had headed towards the healers quarters, where Marcus was being kept. As she approached she could hear a lot of yelling, and a guard ran past her to the tent. Worried, yet somewhat frightened, Illayna hurried over and peeked through the opening. She could see Marcus in a fluster, trying to get away from them. Frowning softly, she stood upright and stepped inside. The image of her was sore, enough to cause the guard to flinch away. Her lip was still red, the obvious cut trying to heal. The stitched on her forehead hidden beneath a spray of hair, but the bruises on her cheek, and down along her shoulder were not easy to hide.

The soft blue dress she wore did its best to lighten the dark marks, to make them look less painful. She eyed the scene before her, lips a firm line, her eyes studying Marcus. She remembered bits and pieces of the night before, of crying and sobbing in the arms of Richard like a lost child at the mere sight of the wounded man. To see him struggle now, anger and upset flashing across his face. "Please.. Marcus.. you're hurt.." She whispered. Her voice cracked under the fear, the pain of the memories. She closed her eyes tightly and moved forward, shouldering the guard aside, as she set the flowers on the table next to the bedroll and as she approached the guards Released Marcus. Uncertain of what was going on. She looked over her shoulder for a split moment to address the guards, her tone a little colder than usual. " You're dismissed." With curt nods and salutes the men departed. The healer, looking rather unsteady dismissed himself. Illayna then looked back to Marcus and gently placed her hand upon his cheek.

"You should not be exhausting your energy.. please Marcus, lie back down.." She was struggling with the emotions running through her. she had glimpsed a broken, and unconscious Marcus the night before and her heart had broken. Why had it hurt her so much to see a practical stranger.. a son of her enemies wounded? Why was he so strong in his determination to see her.. to protect her? Was it because of her he'd been hurt so badly? " Please.. at least sit down." -She gently caressed his cheek before moving to fetch a small glass vase, she set the flowers in it then, on the bedside table. "I brought these, in hopes they might make you rest better.. but you were already awake when I got here.." Illayna was itching to kiss him, to thank him for his bravery.. to hate him for his stupidity, to scold him for his behavior. But she thought it better to act a little indifferent. Perhaps he would turn away from troubling himself with her further if she did.
 
All he could think about was getting to Illayna and making sure she was truly okay. Nothing else mattered right then, nothing even entered his thoughts. He should have been worried that he was an enemy in the Greymere camp, and that they could easily play out his dream if they chose to do so, but he wasn’t. He just didn’t care. His need to see her, to know that she was still alive, was so strong that the healer was nothing more than an obstacle to overcome and when the guards entered the tent, he simply added them to the list. Logic, reason, they had all fled the High Knight’s mind and his body was being ruled by pure emotion now, emotion that screamed at him to find her, save her, be with her. It was an odd feeling to have, one that he’d never experienced before, but it was there all the same and he would, could not, ignore it. Every bone in his body ached to move, to do something, anything and so he fought the healer and then the guards. His body was still weak though, his injuries grave, and he could do much more than be a nuisance but he’d be damned if he wasn’t the greatest nuisance he could be to them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tent flap move and someone enter, drawing his gaze upward. When he saw her, the need to fight suddenly faded, leaving his body even weaker and only the arms of the healer kept him from falling backwards. She was a sight for sore eyes, her shoulder and face bruised, lip busted but she was alive and standing there, ordering everyone out like the Princess that she was. His eyes traced over her dress, noting the way it clung to her, but he soon drew his gaze back to her eyes when she spoke, concerning lacing her whispered words. He tried to speak but found his mouth couldn’t form the words, stumbling upon itself as relief raced through his body, riding the network of nerves. His tongue felt thick and his lips were too dry so he simply nodded and slowly climbed back into the cot, feeling the pain in his body for the second time that day. When she moved off to deal with the flowers that she’d brought, her lingering touch remained on his cheek, allowing him to finally relax and settle on his back, eyes closing.

“Knowing you are safe will allow me to rest better, Illayna” he murmured softly. “I….I saw you in the road..” his voice faltered for a moment then as he gathered his thoughts. Turning his head so he could watch her, he tried again. “I knew I needed to do something to protect you, even at the cost of my own life. You are a princess…and an acolyte to the Goddess…I am simply a knight.” The words stumbled out of his mouth one after another, fed by his emotions and his fears and when he was finally done, he felt drained, weariness settling into his soul. He wanted to tell her so much more, tell her how his heart has ripped in two when he’d seen her lying there and how he’d have fought armies to get to her side. None of that left his mouth though, not then at least; they were from separate kingdoms and separate standings in life. It had been his duty to save her, even though she was an enemy, and nothing more. That was what he told himself at least. Closing his eyes again, he let out a sigh. “We need to figure out who they were and why they would attack you. Sir Richard found us…perhaps he knows more?”
 
Illayna did all she could to keep from throwing the vase in pure frustration. " How good of an acolyte am I, Marcus.. if I can not keep my heart from wanting you?" She whispered, just loud enough for him to hear her, the pain and upset in her voice. "When I saw you.. last night.. my heart tore in two.. it shattered. I thought I had done that to you.. that.. you had been injured so because of me.." The words were a little less forced this time, but she was tired of keeping secrets. Tired of trying to be the perfect acolyte. "If giving myself to the Goddess.. solely, and completely, will keep you safe.. I would leave this instant should you so wish it.. but if denying my right to the temple.. and begging the goddess forgiveness, just so my heart could love you.. and so I could be here for you.. to protect you, to worry for you.. I would do it, without so much as a moments hesitation." Illaynas attention never left the flowers in front of her, but her words were painfully directed to Marcus.

"Richard knows as much as you or I... that he found us there in the road, you had protected me, run off my assailants... and that alone, makes me think.. please goddess do not curse me for thinking ,that perhaps Marcus, you might feel the same way?" She turned her head then to look at him, the obvious fear of rejection played on her face, but more so.. she feared her heart might break again should she be wrong. He had done more than the line of duty called for.. more than he knew.. for one of the more vibrant memories of the knight, had been the Narvashal Coat of Arms. It had glistened bright red when she struck the arm of the man, it had been one of the few things she had been capable of focusing on. Her head injury had jumbled a lot of her memory but that shone bright and clear. As if a message from the goddess. "I will tell you now, Marcus.. before the Goddess alone.. that I don't care, whose flag you raise, I don't care whose colors you wear.. I am in love with you, and I can not deny it."

The words passed her lips before she could think to stop them. Each memory she had with him, in just these two passing days flitted through her mind. Illayna had quite simply, fallen in love with a man she'd barely met.. with a man who was more likely to kill her than love her, but she did not regret it. The moment in the field, to the shadows of the alcove, to the gardens, to the sparse moments between hunts. Illaynas heart had sung for him, with each glance, each whispered word and passing gaze. She could not deny it. She could could not hide it, so alas, she thought to declare it To him, to the Goddess. To all who dare to eavesdrop upon their conversations. Illayna could not take it anymore, secrets had never been her forte.
 
When she began to speak, her words a mere whisper on the air, Marcus strained to listen, his ears seeking out each word as if it would be her last. The anguish was there, as was the pain, each word telling a tale within a tale, piercing his heart. Her back was to him at first, standing rigid and shaking but when she turned to look towards his bed, the gaze she gave melted him. Eyes so soft, so full of emotion, beautiful face shining with fear, he saw it all and noted it, filing the memories away deep inside his soul. All those words came out of her mouth but in the end, what he heard, what he remembered, were the words that made his blood sing. Love, love for him and all that he was, love expressed openly and willingly, from her heart to his. He’d known it that moment in the woods, when he saw her lying on the ground, not sure if she was dead or alive…known that he felt the same way as sure as he knew that he walked. But to hear her express it, admit it, it was too much, more than he could ever have hoped for or dared.

Slowly sliding his legs from the cot, he hoisted himself to a sitting position, swaying lightly for a moment before steadying himself. Taking a deep breath, he pushed to his feet, ignoring his screaming nerves and the nausea that threatened his throat. With force he didn’t feel, he stood tall and slowly walked across the floor of the infirmary, each agonizing step bringing him closer to the woman that he loved…and who loved him in turn. His eyes stared into hers, the heat he felt coming to the surface, and when he closed the distance, he reached out with his hands and cupped her cheeks, drawing her forward for a gentle kiss. Passion exploded within his body when their lips touched, desire wanting more from her though he knew he wasn’t up to it, and when he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, he sucked in a breath. “The Goddess has never asked her followers to not love, Illayna. Mankind has done that, taken the role of acolyte and protector and changed it. The Goddess…she’s about life, about love, and caring and giving…when you love someone, you embody the Goddess in all ways. After all…doesn’t the Goddess love the God?” He finished speaking then, taking another deep shaky breath, his hands dropping to her shoulders.

“The moment I met you in that field, Illayna, my heart bled for you. On the alcove, I wanted you the way a man wants a woman and in the garden, the desire to kiss you almost won. I let my emotions, and my duty, stop me then but I won’t let it now. I told myself it was duty that kept me near your side, that stood before my Lord on the dance floor and dared his anger during the hunt, but that’s a lie. My heart kept me there, my desire and love for you. When I saw you in the road, under attack by..by..” his voice cracked then, unable to form the words that he knew in his head but with a shudder and a deep breath, he collected himself and stumbled on. “I couldn’t deny it any longer, Illayna. Not when I saw you lying there, not knowing if you were hurt or you were dead. I knew then that what I felt was real, that I loved you, loved you more than I should.” Marcus stepped back then, putting a little distance between them, lest he do something he might regret. “This….is complicated, Illayna, very complicated. Our countries are at war, our Lords hate each other, and…..and tonight I think mine might have ordered this attempt on your life.” He closed his eyes and let memories flow through his mind, memories of a Lord that was absent from the feast and of a voice he’d heard in the woods. “What happened to the man I killed, Illayna? Was his body brought back by Sir Richard or left to rot in the road?”
 
When he moved, Illayna felt as if she had been casted to the spot. His warm palms caressed her cheeks and his lips met hers. Her heart fluttered and lashes fell flush against her cheeks. She was certain he'd feel the warmth of her tears as they slid down her cheeks. He loved her... Thank the Goddess.. he loved her. When he broke away, Illayna still dared not to move. So certain that if she so much as twitched, she would wake up from what seemed to be some sort of dream. However, as he spoke, the reality of it all sank in. She could feel the unsteadiness of his breath, she could feel the warmth of his closeness, and she knew how much pain he must be stomaching, just so that he could comfort her. She sighed, and felt so selfish, but yet she could not deny herself the want, the need to finally have him so close. Illayna felt the knots in her stomach loosen, if only a little. This was right, this felt right. The Goddess was not upset with her, was not angered by her straying from the decided path. She took a deep breath, though it came sharp and almost pained as Marcus withdrew from her even by a simple step. His next words came careful, placed just right, and she came back to reality. This was complicated... very, very complicated. What on earth had she done?

"Marcus.." She began to intercede, but he continued. His questioning the body of the downed man, brought a pained look to her face and she cast her gaze aside. "Richard went back to retrieve the body last night, before the feast ended.. but it had since then been removed. No signs of who it might had been." She spoke softly, quietly. "Marcus, I do not hold the actions of Aquitaine or his devout followers against you. Nor do I hold what you do in his name, and honor, against you. It is your sworn duty to protect, and follow your King. I will not try to sway you from him, but I will do my best to protect what peace, you and I may be able to instill upon the people. " She took a deep breath and looked back at him. "Let, Narvashal men come for me, I will be better acquainted with their tactics. Let them try to rue me or my people. My father, is not a weak man, nor is a shallow monster hiding in a mans flesh. My father would see reasoning, he would see it if it was better for the people. Aquitaine is not reasoning worth seeing." She motioned then for him to sit back down. " I will risk everything, just to see you Marcus, to be with you. Even if it must be done when no one is looking, when the night is still and late." -She seated herself then. "I believe you can set a greater, better example for Narvashal, and I for Greymere. "

"However complicated this love may be, Marcus, it was -meant- to be for a reason." She buried her tear stained face in her hands, careful of her lip and the stinging bruises. " But.. if anything happened to you Marcus.. " She sighed deeply. "I know I am not a knight.. nor am I a warrior of any kind. I have not spent my life in training, but I am not helpless. I would do anything to ensure that you and I could be together.. even if we must meet in secret for the rest of eternity.. I...I would even give up my right to Greymere, if it meant any good.. but right now.. it would only bring more havoc to the kingdoms." She glanced towards the tent opening, to make sure no one was listening. "I'm certain, that Richard is well aware... and would be more than willing to hear you out, should you need anything. For now, you need Rest Marcus. When you awake again, we'll have you safely back in your own territory. " That was something she feared, Narvashal could use his absence, or his injury as an excuse to call all out war upon greymere and break the truce.
 
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