In Dreams: Red

Say goodbye

I pick up speed again as I race towards my mother. The interaction with first my father and then the prisoner have unsettled me and I can scarcely stop myself when I arrive at Helena's. I am gasping for breath, heart pounding, the urge to keep on running all too real. Taking several deep breaths, I attempt to calm myself, but my breathing is still hard as I enter Helena's. I realize I hadn't even knocked, but my bad manners are immediately overlooked as the room falls silent at my appearance.

“It is time.” Helena takes one look at me and states.

“How long do we have?” My mother asks.

“Hours.” I pant. The ladies in the room look at each other and grip hands or touch the small heads of the surrounding children. My mother gets up and envelops me in her arms. As if it is a signal, the other mothers begin to fuss and talk with their children and amongst themselves. Voices are strained, but an image is to be maintained in front of the young ones. Mother pulls me outside.

“Kennice, I want you to be safe.” She instructs. “Nothing foolhardy, no heroics. You will be safe.” She scolds sternly. “Give me your word. I may not be able to control your father-but you are my daughter, and I'm telling you!”

“Mother, I.. cannot make any promises, but I will do what I can. Father, he asked me to tell you he will come see you if he can, but..” I reply

“I know Kennice, thank you.” She shushes me and pulls me into a bone-breaking hug. She is very quiet, too quiet. I pull back. Her show of strength, and the hug, were to disguise this.. the now tear-stained face of the woman of petal softness and iron.

“I'm sorry, I told myself not to do this, but.. oh Kennice!” Her lower lip trembles and she grips me into another tight hug. I begin to feel myself panicking again. It is time for me to leave before I too have a breakdown. Seeing both of my parents cry in one day was just too much. I was used to my mother's tears, but fathers...

“Mother, I'm so, so sorry, but I have duties to perform elsewhere before the attack.” I pull back gently as I tell her this, then look her straight in the eyes. “I love you very, very much. And I promise to be as safe as the situation allows.” I promise. She sighs.

“Oh Kennice, whenever you say that, you're off to do something dangerous or reckless. Or both!” She takes my face in her hands. “Just promise me I'll see this beautiful face whole and alive again after all this is over.”

“Well I should hope so!” I retort as I give her a swift hug and turn to leave. And I really do hope so. I don't look behind me, but suspect my mother has the expression on her face that says the answer I gave wasn't what she wanted. I walk until I'm out of eyesight of Helena's then race to my room. There are weapons I want here. And a special stay. This stay has been with me for many years now. Of course, it was designed to be inner wear, but I had the thing modified. It was heavily boned, made out of short, thin, flexible pieces of boning. It gave me more movement than the usual stays, but it also had multiple sheaths for knives, darts, arrow tips, poison, an assortment of goodies. It was designed to be worn on the outside of my clothing, or alone, with or without my cape. This prevented ridiculous poofy sleeves, lacy garments and constricting outfits from getting in my way, and also afforded me a small amount of protection from incoming attacks. Leather straps, buckles and belts allowed me to attach extra weapons, sheaths, pouches, etc, and the laces were designed to easily tuck away to prevent them from hampering my movement or getting caught on something. It was a highly uncivilized affair I often paired with men's riding breeches or a soft pair of leather leggings I had tailored to fit, and a pair of nearly knee-high thick leather boots. On the whole the outfit had caught its fair share of smaller blades, softer blows and a few arrows, saving my life more than once, for even if it didn't stop them entirely, it slowed them enough to help keep them from getting too far into my delicate organs. However indecent the people of this era thought my 'battle corset' was.

I change quickly, lacing myself in, leaving the stay a little loose for the moment, knowing I would gradually tighten and loosen it as the evening wore on. I tuck away the laces, my marked coin, weapons, some first aid, and a small sewing kit for any impromptu stitching or wardrobe repairs needed on the spot. I'd stitched up plenty of tears in this thing due to arrows and blades, some of them during lulls in battle. Always paid to be prepared. I also tuck away some paper and a quill with a small jar of ink, just in case, a flint, and someone had very kindly left lunch in my room so I grab a pouch, stuff what I can in it and attach it to my hip as well. Tossing my cape about my neck, I then race my way towards the tunnels in search of the main atrium, and whatever lay beyond.

It is completely silent below the castle. One would think some sound or echo would penetrate, but there is nothing. Just my own scuffling, breathing and otherwise extreme noise, which is beginning to drive me mad. The quieter I try to be, the more noise I make. It is unnerving, and as I continue on my way I hope that I've understood the directions clearly to this main room under the castle. While there were plenty of torches along the walls above, there weren't here, and I am beginning to wonder if I should have brought my own. With no light or sense of time, I start to feel as though I had been walking for an hour, and still nothing. I begin to panic and move faster, afraid I am taking too long and everyone had moved on without me. I know I am being ridiculous, but I start to believe I am alone, and have taken the wrong path. A snort of laughter from ahead finally changes my mind and I sigh in relief. As I move closer, I see a well-lit area and hear the chatter of men.

“Never seen the like, I swear! Wait 'till you see her! I swear she wins most battles 'cause the soldiers can't keep their eyes off her!” Corwin exclaims to the laughter of the others.

“Well I don't believe you.” A man answers.

“Aye, it's true, I've seen it! She's a stunner, but fierce as a lioness protecting her cubs, or a she-wolf defending her pups.” Someone else answers. I debate pausing just out of eyesight to hear more, but decide that I want no lower opinion of the men I will be fighting with than I already do, on the chance that this conversation is, as I suspect, concerning me. I carefully kick a loose stone as hard as I can against a wall, and scuff my feet for good measure before rounding the last doorway. As I suspect, my loud approach has been heard. Horace, Kornel, Tyrus and Corwin are sitting around the room, torches hung on the walls to give off the light I had seen. I am insanely thankful for the cloak about my shoulders as the men acknowledge me with quickly mumbled 'My Lady's and then look away. I couldn't bring myself to walk between them so I crouch by the opening I had just come through and look around the room. It was a large, round area, the walls curve to the ceiling and the floor as well as curving round to make a nearly circular area. Noise carried very well here, so within minutes of me entering, sounds could be heard echoing through the tunnel behind me. Two men's voices. Reginald pops through the door seconds later followed closely by Septimio.

“Well, we didn't expect to see you here!” Corwin cries, jumping up to shake Septimio's hand.

“Last minute I know, I apologize. I just.. Well, the more I thought of it, I wanted to do my little girls proud.” I stand and lean against the wall, waiting for a break in the conversation. As Corwin steps back, I step forward into Septimio's line of sight and also take his hand.”

“Thank you for joining us Septimio.” I say earnestly. “Your daughters will know their father as a hero.” He looks down and mumbles a thank you. Meanwhile, Reginald is looking around the room.

“Ives is..?” He asks.