In Dreams: Red

News

For the next few hours, we work hard, quickly and quietly, burning through our nervous tension born of the unbearable wait for the impending attack. There are cots to be placed, herbs, bandages, sheets, food, water, medications, surgical and medical supplies to be rounded up. Rooms are converted for healers, nurses, medical personnel, aides, and family members, along with more particular medical needs, while triage is being prepared under the tents. Lamps and lighting are brought in from all over the fortress, the old furniture from the rooms is moved out to be stored elsewhere. Side by side, my mother and I place out bedding on empty cots as they are set up. There isn't much talk between us. There is nothing much either of us can say. The fearful anticipation makes me feel crazed, and I begin to find the repetitive tasks annoying. So it is with some relief that I pause when Peter comes racing through.

“I'm sorry my Lady, that I didn't come back, but mother stopped me while I was looking for you and wouldn't let me out of her sight.” Peter sighs dramatically and I bite my lip to hide a smile. “But now she and Grandmother Helena would like to invite you and the Queen to lunch.” I glance at my mother, who nods her approval with a smile. Peter whoops and jumps into the air in excitement, and then remembers himself in front of the Queen, and takes a more subdued countenance.

“Mother also said I should be a good gentleman and wait to escort you back if you were able to come.” He says sheepishly and executes a quick bow, offering an arm to each of us. I stifle a giggle while my mother claps her hands delightedly.

“Oh but good sir, we cannot go looking like this!” She cries, motioning at the dust on her clothing and dirt on her fingers.

“You're right-you are kind of dirty.” Peter remarks with his head c****d to the side, nose wrinkled. “I can take care of that!” He cries and runs off to come back toting a large basin of water, tongue sticking out between his teeth as he carries it, trying not to spill. Then he rushes off again, returning with a brush for our clothing, towels and soap. Mother accepts the items graciously and we wash the dirt from our skin and take turns helping brush each other off.

“What do you think now?” I ask Peter, grinning as I execute a little twirl.

“Slower.” He instructs seriously. I slowly turn around for him. “Perfect.” He nods his approval, his chin in the crook of his thumb and forefinger, then he beams at me. My mother tosses the used water out into the courtyard and smooths her clothes.

“Now, I believe the young gentleman was going to escort us?” She asks Peter with a twinkle in her eye. He smiles again and offers his arm. She reaches out and takes it, though it requires a bit of reaching on both of their parts. I take Peter's other arm and he begins leading us back towards his grandmother's promised lunch. My mother strikes up a conversation with Peter about his brother and Tasha, his parents and grandmother. He is attempting to be a proper gentleman and his answers are polite and very host-like. Peter even opens doors and escorts us around puddles. I am very proud and tickled by his manners. Frankly, I think he's adorable, and am determined to tell his mother and grandmother how perfectly behaved he was. Peter has just opened another door for us when the sound of running footsteps approaches from behind us. An out of breath soldier speeds in front of us, turning to face us with a quick polite bow.

“My Ladies.” He stammers, rushed. “Lady Kennice, urgent news concerning the invaders. I've been asked to bring you to your father immediately.” He rushes through the message quickly and apologetically, glancing at the Queen. I look to see her expression has turned grim.

“Well?!” She demands. “Can you not speak this news in front of me?” The iron in her voice makes the soldier blanch slightly.

“I know only that a scout's returned to the castle. He's been killed, my Queen.” He bows his head, avoiding her gaze. My mother's implacable expression flickers with horror for a brief moment before returning to stone-like grimness.

“What does this mean for us?” She questions quietly, as though not expecting an answer.

“I do not know, my Lady. Perhaps Kennice will be able to learn more from the meet she has been summoned to.” The soldier responds. The soft reminder of his purpose is not lost on me.

“Forgive me mother-but I really must go.” I give her a quick hug, then turn to Peter. “I'm trusting you to escort the Queen safely to her lunch engagement with your mother and grandmother. If I should require your aid later, I'll be sure to send word to you, ok?” I tell him.

“You better!” He scolds with a grin.

“I promise.” I respond and he throws his arms around my neck in a hug before solemnly offering his arm to my mother again.

“Right, let's go.” I say to the soldier, who leads me on a quick dash through the castle grounds. We meet up with my father, surrounded by a swarm of soldiers. barking orders and gesturing with his left hand. There's so much commotion and shouting, I can't understand what he's saying. People are madly racing around, and several times collisions are narrowly avoided. The soldier who has led me here turns and bows to me, calling over the furor that he must beg my pardon, but he has other tasks to attend to. I dismiss him and thank him, but I'm not sure he has heard me over the activity. I weave my way into the tangle of people, stepping in and out of them, trying to reach my father without being knocked to the ground. I stop a few feet from him and wait for him to acknowledge me.

Turning to point a soldier on his way, my father finally notices me, but his gaze only bounces off of me after a brief glance. He finishes what he's saying and calls one of his Captains to him. I hear an exchange that sounds as though the Captain is being given instruction to take over for my father for a short time, and then he strides towards me.

“Ah Kennice, how long have you been standing there? Never mind, let's get out of this mess for now.” My father leads me to the outskirts of the group. It is a bit quieter, but the commotion is still very distracting, and I can't help but stare at it.

“You sent for me? I understand there is news?” I ask my father distractedly. I throw him a quick look and see that he too is staring at the melee, but his expression is grim.

“One of the scouts was killed. His horse was found dragging the body. It was a scout destined for the closest village. It appears he never made it, the note addressing the town was found in his saddlebag. Another of our scouts found the horse and led it back.” He pauses and grips my shoulder to get my attention. “Kennice, the horse was found in the path of the approaching army. They were within sight of the scout, barely three hours' ride from here. Kennice.. they will be here by nightfall.”