“Oh right – of course!” replied Amenea with her voice now high with a tone levied that implied that she understood everything.
Orinana looked at her in a confused manner
“– of course, how could have I of been so stupid!” Amenea said out loud, shaking her head in dismay. Now Amenea had turned to face her sister, full pelt. She stood directly in front of her. Her shoulders had widened, and her eyes narrowed. The two maids slid backwards to the sides of the room with tiny , quiet footsteps – still embarrassed to be hearing this and worried at what might happen with the two sisters, their eyes stayed firmly glued to the floor.
Looking right at Oriana, Amenea asked,
“Is Custennain, the father?”
Oriana’s eyes widened – her small pink tongue slid out gently from her full lips and half licked her top lip and she gently bit the other one at the corner. Amenea did not need her to answer.
“How could you?” Amenea roared at her.
“Is one, just not enough for you.” Amenea continued.
“I wanted to tell you but…”
But it was just too much for Amenea, the tension that she had been quietly closeting inside of her mind, inside of her head for weeks over this, finally unleashed its toll.
At that moment Amenea leapt forward towards her sister, reaching her hands out to place round Oriana’s throat. Oriana struggled a bit and then wriggled free. Amenea now took hold of the long, iron arrow staff which was on the wall just by Orinana. She headed in Oriana’s direction, thumping her feet upon the floor, moving towards her with angered force.
The maids the ran towards both of the sisters pleading “My lady!” looking at Oriana and then turning towards Amenea and repeating the same, “My lady – sweet lady, please …” to Amenea.
Amenea kept her now glassy eyes planted firmly on her sister, ignoring everything else and hearing nothing else but the pounding of her own heart and the pulse of the blood that was racing round her veins right now as she said in a voice like a rumble of deep thunder, “ My sister is no lady – she is nothing but a hoare. The dark lords hoare.” The maids along with Oriana gasped at these words. All eyes rolled back and then …
“Amenea stop!” a voice called from the other end of the room where a large, newly opened door came to her attention. Red drapes hung from each side of the door like waterfalls of blood. Amenea looked towards the outline of the person whose identity she couldn’t quite make out. There was a large Chateau window behind this person and sunlight was pouring in through it. Still griping the iron staff with force and intention, still pointing it directly at Orinana, the voice called out again and started walking towards the girls.
For a few split seconds silence hung in the air, in-between the bated breath of Amenea who had become at this moment another person. She felt strong, angry, betrayed. The figure was a lot closer now and the sunlight was no longer saturating their identity and it was the last person that Amenea wanted to see right now. The last person that Amenea wanted to see her like this.
“Your lord.” The maids said in bowing before him, holding their simple linen robes up at each side slightly as they stepped backwards to the walls of the quarters, they were all in.
“Custennain” said Oriana in a semi desperate voice, laden with relief. Amenea looked at her sister, looked at him and looked at her staff. Custennain was not looking or replying to Oriana he was walking towards to Amenea, his eyes full of concern. The nearer he got, the clearer Amenea could see that look in his eyes. He still wanted her – she could see it. But then she looked at her sister’s stomach and Amenea gulped. There was a lump in her throat, so large and dry she felt she could not swallow. Amenea suddenly felt the sweat on her brow, something in the fury she had not even realised, nor her long hair that had become totally free in the struggle – strands everywhere.
Custennain was now standing in front of Amenea, he put his hand to her brow and wiped the sweat away, he went to his tunic pocket and sourced a fresh cotton cloth, which he started to wipe across the rest of her face. He said nothing – he just looked at her, lovingly. Amenea couldn’t speak. It was too much, she felt everyone’s eyes were on her. She looked still angrily at her sister who was now placing a hand on her bump.
Amenea realised that with all the anger in the world – her sister was with child – his child! Her hands dropped quickly to her sides, the metal of the staff clanging heavily as one end hit the stone floor. The clanging made everyone jump and Custennain stepped back from her. At almost the same time Amenea did the same and as she did, she looked at her sister.
Distaste, disgust and betrayal were all her mind could think at the moment and all she could see right now was the image of her sister‘s body blissfully wrapped around Custennain - naked, in his bed. Amenea took a deep breath at this thought as if she may vomit – she turned and ran.
Chapter 23
It was cold. Colder than Amenea had bargained for. Furious with her sister and confused by Custennain, Amenea had decided to find the nearest horse in the stable that could carry her fast and far away. The light was beginning to go, and she wanted to make her way to the domain of Prince Daryl before nightfall.
In her haste she had ripped the skirt of her robe. She wasted no time and ripped it clean off, slinging it on the floor, in the mud on the stable floor. Next to Mabon’s horse she saw his tunic armour plate hanging up. She took it and put it on – she knew she had miles to ride and feared the shadows of the dark lords and their arrows. She had thick leather clad gloves and thick woollen undergarments. Although she knew she would be cold she also knew that her winter cloak and its double layered vent would also help to protect her from the elements. She wanted to waste no time returning to her chambers to change.
Now, Amenea galloped viciously across the land on horseback. The hooves of the horse thumped, deeply as her arched back and small tensioned legs held onto and echoed every movement with precision of the dark stallion she now rode upon. Nothing was going to stop her. She heard nothing of the wind thrashing through her hair and whipping her clothes behind her in a talon of flight. Head bent and eyes piercing through the landscape in front of her, she rode through the night.
Little did Amenea know that although she felt alone trying to put as much distance between her and her sister and her and Custennain - it was futile. After Amenea had left Custennain realised upon turning and looking at Oriana what the fight between the two sisters was about.
Custennain instructed the maids to take care of Amenea and summoned more staff to fetch her mother and his brothers. During this the stable master had alerted the concierge of the Chateau that he thought they may be under attack, he had heard disturbances in the stables and there was a horse missing. Reports of ripped robes from a female and arrow heads had been found on the stable floor. Custennain feared the worst.
The guards of the Chateau started to lock down all access and Custennain now grew worried as Amenea could not be found, anywhere. Silent, panic started to besiege him.
It had been less than an hour since Oriana had been taken to her mother’s chambers. Custennain was with his brothers, they were all trying to map out a course of action over one of the old leather maps as to where Amenea could have gone. Custennain had not had a chance to explain all the details to his brothers, it was all going to fast. They just knew that the sisters had had an awful fight.
“So this is what you call respect is it?” Dabria’s voice stated firmly, with a chill of malice in her voice. Dabria was the name of Amenea’s and her sisters’ mother.
“How could you do such a thing. Without my blessing. Without the light of the ancient ones. What were you thinking?” she said as she shook her head in concern.
Custennain looked wide eyed at her as he said, “I have no idea what you mean. What blessing?” He was still half in thought as to where Amenea was – clearly Dabria had not yet been informed about the possibility of attack.
“Oriana – is with child. She bellowed at him.
“Your child.” She said slowly as she looked at him.
“No!” Custennain exclaimed, his face in pale, shock.
“No what? Don’t think you can play me as easily as you have clearly played my two daughters.” Dabria said to him angrily.
“Or am I to discover the same from Amenea too.”
“No, it is not what you think.” Custennain said. “Or what Amenea thinks either,’ he said as he winged his head gently from side to side as he rubbed his brow. Dabria raised her left eyebrow in a questionable fashion.
In the tension that was building up in these chambers again, the same chambers that had already witnessed a bloodshed of emotions today, Mabon stepped forward and spoke to everyone’s surprise.
“I think, I can help.” He said quietly and sorrowfully. Mabon knew not what had gone on exactly, but he had an idea what it was to do with. He also knew that what he had been holding tightly to his person since his trip to Masonbury would provide answers. Answers that they were all going to want and need.
“Ahh this is what?– the brotherhood of cover ups now is it?” said Dabria. “I had really thought more of you and I know your father will join me in that thought too!”
“Please –may I request a moment to speak.” Mabon bowed slightly in front of Dabria –He feared her reaction to what he was going to say.
Dabria moved her cheek gently to one side in listening. Her tone softened more to him that Custennain at this moment. Hearne also like Custennain just stood and listened – he was also shocked by all that was happening and unsure what his brother Mabon was about to say.
“Thank you my lady.” Mabon replied, he regained his normal posture and as he did he reached inside the right hand side pocket that was on the front of his leather tunic. He revealed a cloth. The cloth appeared to be of a sand colour, it was beige, wool. Gently he unwrapped the cloth and as he did so carefully revealing what was concealed within it, Lady Dabria released a breath of shock.
“Why have you got that and from whom did you get it?” she asked quickly.
Mabon was holding a small looking glass, a mirror. It was round and set in gold. The handle was long and all along the handle from the base leading right up to the round mirror there were large colourful cabochon stones. These stones continued in a patterned sequence, all around the edge of the mirror, embedded into the gold.
Custennain lent forward to look along with Hearne. Custennain realised these were the same stones that were around his mirror in his chambers, Amenea’s too.
“I don’t understand.” said Custennain. “Why have you got that?” He looked at Mabon.
“Hmm, so he lives – still?” said Dabria.
“Who – and what is going on?” said Custennain getting annoyed thinking of all the time they were wasting standing here. Time that he could spend looking for Amenea.
“I’m confused,” said Hearne.
“Your not the only one, “ said Custennain with a worried look on his face.
“But really, Lady Dabria please - is this the right time to discuss whatever is happening with this mirror. We need to find Amenea.” Said Custennain, not able to be patient anymore.
“What do you mean?” said Dabria.
“Cordelia said she saw her running towards her chambers. I assumed she was in them.”
“No, your lady – she is not. I have had the maids and the guards check, since the alert.” He replied.
“Guards - the guards. Why the guards?” She turned, her face now looked like steel. She was deadly serious. “And what alert? What exactly has happened and where is my daughter?”
Custennain took a few moments to explain to Lady Dabria what he had seen happen between the sisters today and what had been reported. As she listened her face grew colder and more serious. At one-point Mabon fell to his knees at hearing that Oriana was with child as he put his hands over his face in anguish.
“I was told not to be interrupted when I was trying to calm Oriana who went hysterical when I took her back to my chambers. This is even more serious than I had thought. It is more serious than any of you know, right now. You must go, all three of you – now go and find her.” said Lady Dabria.
The three brothers were shocked, perplexed, unsure. Unsure of what was going on. Why was everything suddenly way more serious than anyone knew. Mabon stepped forward and opened his mouth to ask another question as Lady Dabria paced back and forth quickly, holding her hands out in front of her as in summons of the spirits.
“Goooooo,” she bellowed from the depths of her lungs as her long dainty finger harboured a large gold ring with a spectrelike moonstone that glimmered in-between the two moons that sat on each side of it - the moons of the two worlds, a ring that only the High Priestess possessed’.
Chapter 24
The sound of hard leather boots thudding quickly upon the stone floors alongside the heavy flapping of the leather, clad tunics that the three brothers were wearing as they rushed to the stables echoed along their pathway. Not one of them spoke until they were quickly saddled up.
Custennain said, “We need to head out towards Doverian cliffs – she is angry, I think she will go there.”Hearne replied,
“Yes I agree and from there as we are higher up we can see down into the valley a bit, if we still cannot find her. Let’s hope the light of the moon helps us to see her path, if we do not find her sooner.
Mabon said nothing, they all started to move faster along the ground. Just as they reached the boundaries of the Chateau grounds, they looked at each other seriously, with a look of determined intent in their eyes. They cracked the whip of their horses and dug their heels in – the horses bolted forward at immense speed, they were off.
As they rode, the three brothers covered a lot of ground at a mind stopping speed. Galloping through the night. Neither brother had seen Custennain push his horse that much, “Faster, faster,” he kept saying as soon as his horse started to show signs of slowing down. Night was falling and the air was cold, really cold. They had some luck as the moon was up, high and bright and it was helping. They had to traverse a part of landscape that was thick with thorn and at this speed, they did not need to have that caught on their horses or in their legs – they did not need holding up for anything not until they found Amenea.
As they rode, Custennain could not stop thinking about Amenea. Had Oriana told her that he was the father – was this what Amenea was thinking? Is this what the fight was about? What was the mirror that Mabon was carrying and why was the mirror that Mabon had like the mirror that he and Amenea had in their rooms….. What did Lady Dabria mean, that ‘he’ was still alive – who was she talking about? What was his connection to the mirror, to her, to Mabon, to Amenea … Amenea …
“Faster, Faster …” he continued to repeat to his horse, again and again, clinging onto the reins with his strong hands, keeping his strong, tort physique perfectly balanced, whilst his horse rode faster and faster through the cold, night air. On and on they cantered across the land, passing every dell, rock surface and small forest until they
saw a horse. At this point they slowed down …
Before them was a tall, black stallion horse, it amused itself by grazing aimlessly in the lower grasses that neared the edge of Doverian cliffs. It had a black, leather saddle and a soft, black saddle bag bearing the sign of the Chateau. Its emblem formed the clasp that held the saddle bad closed.
All three brothers slowed their horses to a halt and with that the three horses stood motionless – their ears pinned back listening, their mouth pieces glinting in the moonlight. The only noise that moved the air was the panting of the horses and the rasping of the breath of the brothers as they tried to regain their breath. Their cheeks were on fire from the whipping of the riding wind. They stood and listened – they heard nothing. They could not see Amenea, but she must be close as this is a horse from the Chateau.
Custennain growing even more concerned descended from his horse. He signalled quietly with his hands to tell his bro
thers to do the same. Hearne took the horses over to a small bush area and tied all three horses to a large branch of a huge, oak tree. The horses grazed alongside Amenea’s horse quietly. Confident that they were alone Custennain spoke to his brothers.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“She must be here; her horse is here. Where is she?”
The three brothers decided to look further, each one taking a different direction from the centre of where they all arrived.
“Keep in eye contact of each other.” said Hearne. “There is something really strange about all this.” He said. “I can feel it.”
“Amenea!.” Custennain called out in his deep, voice. Her name echoed around the cliffs. Custennain continued to search more furiously as time went on. Going from left to right and pushing back every bush and looking between every rock wall and boulder until - he finally stopped.
He had found her. He cried out! The other two brothers rushed to the direction of his voice as they heard Custennain cry out again “No!”.
Hearne and Mabon suddenly stopped when they found where the voice had come from. Custennain was standing, on what seemed to be a large clearing in the undergrowth near to the edge of the Doverian cliffs. The clearing was well hidden from the main path and on the ground, it was not grass, like everywhere else thereabouts, but a large, flat area of stone. As they got nearer to Custennain they saw that that now they and Custennain were standing on a deep blue, bed of flat rock that was pressed into a huge, circular shape.
The shape seemed to be intersected by equal lines all coming from the centre to the edge of the circle. The face of Custennain was distraught, as he looked down at Amenea lying, bundled in a heap on the stone. She looked as if she was unconscious or asleep. “Amenea.” he said, again and again, each time more gently more gently as he stretched out his arm to turn her over. As he did, it was clear that she had hit her head as there was a small cut and it was oozing, deep red blood. Slowly it trickled from the wound, down the side of her pale, white, face.
The Queen of Hope (Tower of Glass series) (The Throne Of Glass Book 1) Page 11
