In Dreams: Red

Bearer Of Bad News

As one of my father's most trusted men, Silas' family had quarters reserved for them within the castle. However, only Silas ever really spent much time in the reserved space. His wife and two sons had lived mostly outside the castle walls, and his sons were grown now with children of their own. Silas' wife, Helena, spent much of her time divided between Silas and her grandchildren. In these kinds of circumstances with the looming threat of an invading army, I could guarantee Helena had asked her sons and their families to stay in Silas' reserved quarters until it was all over. While the reserved spaces were good for one small family, I wondered how cramped it was inside now. I knew Silas' sons would be fighting for my father by choice, and against Helena's wishes, which meant they would spend much of their time with the other soldiers, but still, two men, three women and several children could take up quite a bit of space.

From ten paces away from the door you can hear footfalls (running and stomping), squeals, screams and shouted words.

“Mom!”

“Gramma!”

“Watch!”

“Ow!”

And jumbles of other words trip and wind their way around each other. Happy laughter suddenly spills out, which makes my lips twitch into a smile, and then sobers me quickly. I am the death angel today, the bearer of sad and terrible news, destined to destroy this laughter without pity, even though I am desperate not to. I hesitate, drawing back briefly. Perhaps I should let them go another day without having to hear this news. My mother lets go of my hand and moves forward purposefully. She briskly knocks on the door.

“The door! The door!”

“I got it!”

“Mom!”

All these things flow together with a rush of footfalls to the door. Helena opens the door herself with bright blue eyes peeking around it at us on the outside. I hear a chorus of little voices.

“The Queen! The Queen, the Queen!” They call, surrounding my mother and tugging her skirts. “Hi aunty Lady, you're pretty today! Why are you looking so sad, did you bring us a present?” Questions trip themselves over small lips until I'm spotted behind mother. There are squeals and laughter all around.

“Keeny! Keeny! Throw me, throw me! Spin me around please? Can you tell a story? Please, please? Pick me up!” Three little children surround me. The youngest begging to be picked up and pulling at my skirts and hands. They're approximately seven, three and five winters. The seven and three year old belong to one brother, the five year old to another. I tug the three year old into my arms, the five year old begs again to be spun around, and I grab his little hand and whisper to him I couldn't in front of the adults, because they were old and didn't like to spin anymore, but I would hold his hand for now and later we could play. He giggles and grasps my hand with both of his, practically hanging from my arm. I swing him around swiftly anyway, which elicits squeals from both he and the three year old, still clasped in my other arm.

“My, how tall you have all gotten, and I will indeed tell you a story, I promise you that. But perhaps not today.” A groan and protests from the children. “Well, not right now, ok I have to talk with your grandmother first. But I have a really good one for you, about a man that can turn himself into a great big wolf!” More squeals and laughter.

“Ok, let's leave Kennice alone now children,” Helena calls. “I'm sure my Lady Right Hand would appreciate her arm back!” She scoots the five year old along and plucks the three year old from my arms. I grip the seven year old's hand quickly before he can be sent scurrying.

“Good to see you, Peter.” I say formally, shaking his hand. He blushes. I lean in close.

“I promise you an awesome scary story once the little ones are asleep, but don't tell your mother or grandmother.” I whisper. I know Peter loves scary stories, but his mother and grandmother are a bit protective.

“Yes!” He cheers and races away.

“He's so grown up for his age.” Helena remarks fondly after him. I nod in agreement, then look at her soberly.

“Helena.” I bow to her. “As the Lady of the house, I beg you to allow me entry and request you make yourself comfortable in my presence.” Helena's face registers surprise. I am never formal with her, she is too much a part of my family.

“I request you make yourself ready to hear unpleasant news concerning your husband, and my second-father Silas.” I say softly and her face turns white. I clasp her hands.

“It hurts me to have to be the bearer of bad news, Helena. Please let's go inside and sit down. I need to tell you what happened.” Helena is beginning to lose her composure. My mother and I guide her inside to sit down. The two wives of Silas' sons see the look on Helena's face and quickly send the children out of the room. A teacup suddenly appears before Helena, and she grips it tightly as she sits down and settles herself in front of me.

“This hurts me more than anything I have ever done in my life.” I murmur. She reaches for my hand as if to comfort me.

“I always wondered who it would be, to bring me the news. I am so sorry and yet so glad it is you Kennice. Does that make any sense at all?” Helena's voice quivers a bit and she clears her throat quickly. I nod gently and sit in front of her, briefly wrapping my hands around hers where they still cling to the teacup. I tell her how Silas died, how we had been ambushed by thieves, and how through my foolishness, Silas had been slain. I explain to her that he had bravely thrown himself in front of me to save my life, despite the fact that the murdering thieves kept coming, and slaughtered most of the men. I tell her we had been forced to flee, and there had been no time to recover the bodies of the fallen, and hesitate when it comes to explaining the part of the prisoner in our escape. I can still feel the warmth of his body pressed between my knees and the growl rumbling through his large chest. I shudder.

“I do want you to know that, on my word, your honorable husband's memory and death will be kept. He will not have died in vain and will be honored properly for his heroic deeds. Your family will have our support as long as it is necessary. I also want you to know that when this situation with the invaders is over, we will dispatch a band of men to roust out these murdering thieves and attempt to recover the bodies of our honorable and heroic dead to have a proper burial. In the meantime, we will have a memorial for them as soon as we can.” My voice wavers.

“Helena, I'm so sorry that this happened. I only wish the arrow had found its proper place and Silas had not interfered. He did not deserve to die and was the kindest, most noble man I have ever had the honor of meeting, knowing and considering family.” A single tear escaped Helena's eye and raced silently down her face. There was a brief moment of silence.

“He died honorably and well in the service of the ruling family he loved as his own. Just as he always desired.” Helena's voice was thick, and though fresh tears fell, she still managed to keep her composure. I dropped my eyes, examining the floor carefully to avoid meeting her gaze. She was essentially relieving me of responsibility for Silas' death, but I could still hear the hard tone within the statement.

“Kennice.” Helena murmurs, reaching out with one hand to grip mine. “Please do not blame yourself for his death.” She speaks quietly and slowly. I look up to judge her emotions

“Silas died defending his little girl. You may never have shared our blood, but you grew up as one of our own, and I would expect no less of him where one of our flesh and blood children or grandchildren were concerned. You were and are like a daughter to us, and I could never begrudge you your life, nor his death to protect you.” Helena appears calm and sincere. I don't know if she realizes it, but her words made me feel all the guiltier. Something of that emotion must be showing itself on my face, because she carefully pulls me into a one-armed hug, being mindful of her teacup in the other hand.

“Thank you Kennice, for coming here yourself, for being so honest. For being my not of my flesh daughter. For everything. You have made yourself and Silas very proud.” Helena whispers to me. I feel the tears find their way down my cheeks and stifle the urge to continue down that path again. As soon as I feel Helena's grip on me loosen, I gently pull away. There is a period of silence where Helena gazes into her teacup and the rest of us wait for her to break the stillness. I am beginning to feel the familiar impatience of having many things to do and feeling as though there is no time. Helena's daughters in law busy themselves with household chores. Somewhere the children are laughing and screaming. Little spats erupts and the patter of feet is frequently heard. I listen to this for a while until I gauge that enough time has passed to be considered “acceptably polite” and slowly straighten.

“I beg your humblest apologies, but I really must be leaving. If I may ask the Lady of the house's forgiveness, there is much to be done, and I must make many arrangements.” I stand and bow to Helena. Helena straightens and gives me a shallow smile.

“Oh Kennice, I had quite forgotten you just came in! Of course, there is much you need to do, I'm sure, and I've kept you here with my silly emotions. Please forgive me, rather, and be off with you child! But don't forget to check back in with me when you have the chance, sweetheart. I won't take no for an answer.” Helena commands softly. I lean in for a quick hug.

“There's nothing to forgive, and of course I'm coming back as soon and as often as possible, mother of my heart.” I tell her quietly. Straightening, I turn to my mother.

“I beg your forgiveness as well, my dear mother. I shall try to meet up with you later, if you will allow it and perhaps we can catch a few moments of conversation.” I mention this with a smile, knowing how much she loves gossip. She laughs delightedly.

“I always have time for you, dear daughter. Now go on your way before I demand you stay and tell me everything!” She calls with laughter in her voice. I give her a quick hug too and rush my way out the door. Trying to be as graceful about it as possible, I race my way across the courtyard again, thinking of my prisoner. I see the horses have been moved, and if I know the efficiency of my father's men, they've probably already been properly stabled and well taken care of. I stop one of the men passing by me and ask where I might locate my father, though that's not really who I want to ask about, but I know I must get this over with. The man points me in the right direction with a polite bow and murmured “My Lady”, and after thanking him, I rush onward.