Beorn Clovermaen's Story

Elska was grateful for the casual affair that was the noon meal. She felt a bit more relaxed despite the tension that seemed ever present in the air. The departure of her people left a strange and hollow feeling. It was not lessened at all whenever she'd allow her eyes to stray to Tyr. She took a small bite of her food as her mind drifted back to the stables and horses Brynjar had shown her.

Elska was impressed by the various steeds they found in the stables. She was even distracted from the anxiety that leeched from her in Brynjar's presence. He had stepped back to watch her idly as she slowly walked down the length of the stable looking between the horses.

She had stopped briefly in front of his own horse--Baelfire. The beast was a demon on the battle field and as ill tempered as his master. Though something in Elska's calm demeanor had the horse approaching her calmly. Brynjar had his arms crossed against his chest as Baelfire allowed her to stroke his forelock. She seemed to sense to the power behind the stallion and retreated her hand rather quickly.

"He's terrifying." She commented without looking back at him.

"He has to be," Brynjar watched as Baelfire bumped his soft muzzle against her shoulder. "Any other, and you'd have lost your nose by now." Elska didn't doubt the truth of his words as she sensed something sinister behind the dark eyes.

They moved on quickly as Elska was afraid whatever goodwill the stallion may have felt towards her would vanish and she'd lose a finger.

Brynjar brought her in front of a stall a few doors down revealing a mild dapple mare. She was a beautiful thing to be sure, but part of Elska felt a bit insulted.

"What's the matter?" Brynjar sensed her hesitation.

"I am from the North, and I can be as wild as the wind," she spoke vaguely, "if we are to go riding later, you must settle me with something that has spirit." She straightened to her full height and leveled him with her gaze.

Brynjar pierced her with his gaze but she wouldn't back down. She was an odd mixture of bravery and fear. She had strong convictions, and while it seemed he may bend her towards his will, he realized she would not break. She was only here because he had leverage.

"Then I have the perfect horse for you."

Brynjar had left Elska shortly after the stables to attend to some of his new duties as king. He had been too busy to think much or come up with anything devious. The royal household had convened together for lunch. While Brynjar could have continued to keep working he had decided to keep an eye on those he was slowly tangling in his web.

Elska was not seated next to him this time. Instead, it was Lelinus. Lelinus was next in line to the throne and his position was at Brynjar's side. Brynjar was in a rather good mood and didn't try and pick a fight with his younger brother. Brynjar was mostly thinking about the ride he would take with Elska later. While his motivations were against Tyr and Ingrid, he was finding her fascinating.

Lelinus was getting the all too familiar flush of fever and Brynjar glanced discreetly between the newly weds. Lelinus had shown moments of weakness since the wedding but he had yet to fall sick. Brynjar watched as Lelinus excused himself and rose to his feet. He wondered how Ingrid would handle Lelinus' frail health now that it was in front of her face.

Elska watched curiously as Lelinus had risen from the table and seemed to be in great haste to leave the hall. Her eyes widened in shock as he had only made it a few strides before he collapsed to the ground. She quickly stood, her chair scraping against stone like the few others participating in the meal. Ingrid had rushed to his side and Beorn had quickly stooped low.

"Is he all right?" even though she was a few seats down from Brynjar, he seemed the only one left closest to her to ask.

Brynjar heard Beorn's word, but surprisingly this was not due to Brynjar's meddling. Ingrid was helping support Leo and they quickly abandoned the hall to return to their chambers. It was rather odd watching the warrior princess half carrying her sickly husband. This would be the topic of conversation as soon as it spread through the castle.

"Don't fear Lady Elska," he turned and saw the concern riddling her face. "My brother has always been predisposed to boughts of illness. He always recovers." He assured her. Though recovery was usually the worst part. As a child Lelinus would spend weeks bound to his bed because he was too frail and weak.

Elska lost her appetite. Brynjar was king and the next in line had very little physical strength. She felt as though the House of Augustus would fall like cards and it would all be from the whims of a mad king.

"Are you finished Lady Elska?" his question cut through the cloud in her mind.

"I suppose so. Do you suppose we should check on them?" her brow cinched together in worry.

"Nonsense, Brother Beorn has it under control. This is not the first time he has tended to my brother." Brynjar pushed his chair back and stretched languidly. His lack of concern made Elska feel more ill. Brynjar was quite content with the development. Perhaps this would be the instance that would do his brother in. Perhaps fate was settled on his side.

"Would it be wise for us to go riding this afternoon?" she questioned unsteadily.

"Be at peace," he waved his hand. "Lelinus may succumb frequently to fevers, but with Brother Beorn and Ingrid at his side he is sure to be in good hands. You need not worry." Brynjar was starting to feel frustrated. He was used to Lelinus falling ill. "My brother would not want his illness to prevent you from touring our lands."

Elska bit her lip. She didn't want to get in the way and she hardly knew Lelinus at all. She also knew what Tyr's opinion was of her riding alone with Brynjar, but what other choice did she have?

"Very well, I will be ready later." Though there was still a frown at the corner of her mouth.

Sweat already sulked Leo's skin and Beorn cursed his friend's recklessness. He had to notice he had a fever this morning. He should have called for him then. He could have prevented the worst of it. Now, he would spend weeks recovering. If he recovered, a traitorous thought whispered in his mind. He shook his head. He couldn't think negatively. Not now. He watched Ingrid tenderly kiss his forehead as she help him lay him on the bed.

"Ingrid," Leo murmured. He was conscious of what was happening around him at any rate. That was a good sign. Beorn got to work smashing some dried herbs into a powder before stoking his fireplace in preparation to boil water in his kettle.

“Will he be alright?”

"If his fever breaks, he will. He has broken the siege every time. There is no reason this time should be any different," he announced. He reached for his shelf, producing a flask of serum. He examined it carefully, noting the colors and the texture before finally nodding.

"This is still good. We can give him a little as I prepare a fresh batch. We are in luck. My stores have just enough for one more and the garden is in season. I should have plenty of supplies to treat him."

He left for a few minutes to draw water from the well, returning with a bucket to fill the kettle and to dip a rag in. He rung it out and offered it to her.

"We can only wait it out and speak to him while he fights this battle."

The sun was starting to hang low in the sky by the time Elska had gathered her courage and headed for the stables. Brynjar had sent a servant to her asking if they could delay their tour by about an hour. The reason had been for matters of state he needed to attend. Elska had changed from her light and flowing gown into a pair of dark leggings and a tunic. This was the one area of life that she preferred to go against tradition and expectation. She knew that side saddle was common among the courtiers of Byrdain, but it wasn't so in Fjellborg.

As she came around the corner and was in view of the stable entrance, she was surprised to see Brynjar was already standing with both mounts. Baelfire was chomping at his bit and pawing restlessly at the ground. Next to him stood a horse with a less intimidating stature, but fierce nonetheless. The horse was dark grey in color and his coat nearly shimmered in the sun. He was a thing of beauty.

"This is Silvein." Brynjar was pleased to see the admiration in her eyes. Elska approached and touched the velvet muzzle. Silvein had intelligent eyes. She trailed one hand down his powerful neck and could feel the energy rippling beneath the surface.

"He's remarkable." She murmured reverently.

"You said you wanted something with spirit."

Elska nodded her head. She was itching to ride now despite her companion. Brynjar moved over to her side. Elska was about to refuse his assistance, but he had already wrapped his large hands around her waist. He lifted her up into the saddle effortlessly and the surprise of the movement stole her breath.

"That wasn't necessary, I am perfectly capable of mounting on my own." She responded sharply and he gave her a roguish grin.

"I know." He mounted Baelfire.

Elska was suddenly quite aware of her riding attire and she could feel his eyes run up her legs and settle on her hips before they flicked to her face. She was distinctly uncomfortable and Silvein sensed her unease. He began to shift beneath her nervously.

"If he's going to be too much for you to handle, I can always have something more tame saddled for you." The way he said it got under her skin and she gritted her teeth. She forcefully shook her head.

"Don't be ridiculous." She forced herself to calm and soon Silvein stilled. Brynjar gave her an appraising nod before he took the lead and they began to walk out of the stable yard.

Brynjar was impressed with Elska's equestrian skill. Silvein was as spirited as Baelfire was ill tempered. She commanded Silvein easily and the dusky stallion responded to her as if they had been companions their whole life.

"Where are we going?" he could see that she was guarded but she had finally relaxed.

"I want to show you the best view." He wouldn't say more and continued to lead the way. They exited through the large castle gates and Brynjar made a sharp turn leading away from the path that would have taken them down into the city.

Elska felt her stomach rolling over. She forced herself to breathe evenly as she continued to follow Brynjar. She watched as the sword strapped to Brynjar's hip bounced lightly against his leg with each step.

"Perhaps we should've brought your guard with us." She nodded to his weapon of choice.

"Force of habit." He shrugged. "I am the best swordsman in Byrdain." His words oozed arrogance but she didn't doubt them. He wasn't called a bear for nothing. "Besides, you're safe with me."

"Am I?" she asked boldly.

Brynjar eyed her, sizing her up. "I'm not completely the monster you make me out to be Lady Elska." Brynjar softened his voice hoping to slip through a crack in her walled defenses.

"But you still are a monster." She was blunt and he didn't deny it.

They were silent for a while after that as the two horses continued on their way. There was a great meadow that stretched before them that would take them to a large hill. Elska felt her skin itching for a hard gallop and she could sense the same in Silvein. It wouldn't be proper or appropriate etiquette so she tried to box up her restlessness.

"Do you race Lady Elska?" Brynjar could feel the tension rolling off her body in great waves.

"It is not a proper past time for a dignified lady." She sniffed and looked away from him. She knew he read right through her. Her mind drifted to days gone by when she would race Tyr or Ull in Fjellborg years before.

"I would not think any less of you," the soft magnitude of his words brought her attention back to him. "Don't you want to see Silvein's full range of abilities?"

Elska bit the edge of her lip. She wanted to see what Silvein could do. She looked around. The city and castle lay behind them, and an expansive distance lay before them. There was no one around. She didn't particularly care what those in Brynjar's court thought, but she didn't want to continue the thread of thought that all of them were barbaric and unrefined.

The two horses had stopped by this point. Elska's fingers twitched and she Silvein's great muscles tense and tighten beneath her. He was coiling up like a spring. She decided to throw caution to the wind. There were many emotions bottled up and she had to let the cap off. Without a word and only the faintest of touches Silvein's shot forward like and arrow. Elska leaned low over his neck and gave him full rein. He was magnificent. She felt the ground fall behind them as the great horse flew with his hooves.

Brynjar had watched her charge forward with a self-satisfied smirk. He only gave her a minute lead before letting Baelfire kick after the pair. It was remarkable to watch Elska ride. She and Silvein seemed to melt into one, responding to each other. Her dark curls were flying wildly in the wind and after several lengths he could hear her delicate laughter in the air.

Baelfire caught up to Silvein and the two horses ran neck and neck until they came to the hill. Both riders reined them in until they crested to the top of the hill. They slowed to a stop and Elska's eyes were alight with life and excitement. Brynjar was pleased to see that she had lost her guard somewhere back on the meadow floor and it would take a moment for it to catch up.

Brynjar was growing confident in his decision to take Elska as completely away from Tyr as possible. She was a prize well worth the work to achieving.

"I do not think I have seen many a greater horseman than yourself." Brynjar meant the compliment. She was graceful and poised and had one of his worst horses coming to her like a lamb. He watched as her flushed cheeks deepened. "Your skill is quite enviable."

"Indeed?" Elska was out of breath. "Such pretty words from a pretty mouth," she shook her head. "Pretty words aren't easily trusted."

"You doubt me?"

"I know you were holding back. We would have been eating your dust." She gave him a pointed look and he laughed.

"I didn't say you were better than me, but you certainly are better than many of my knights."

"Does you arrogance have no limit?" she smarted but she did smile.

"Not that I have found." He nodded and the horses began to walk slowly to cool down. "Just a little further."

They reached a drop off point that faced the valley that stretched out to the horizon. The castle was in the distance now and the city just beyond it. The sun was on its western descent at this point. It was a marvelous view and Elska was quickly wrapped up in the moment. The glow that was cast upon the landscape was awe inspiring.

"This is what I wanted to show you." Brynjar's voice startled her out of her reverie and she realized he had maneuvered Baelfire as close to Silvein as the two stallions would allow. Brynjar had reached out to touch Elska's elbow. It was as being branded and she was snapped back to her reality. She remembered she was alone in very dangerous company, with a man who didn't hide that he had an agenda, and could not call for help nor out run him.

The panic began to settle in and she urged Silvein to put a bit of distance between them.

"Why do you shrink from me?" his voice was low.

"Because I have not forgotten that you seen me as nothing more than a pawn in this revenge game you have set the board with." Her words were sharp.

"I am just a man Elska," he didn't try and approach her. "And you are just a woman."

The reminder made her feel sour. "Admit it, the only reason you invited me on this ride was to lay a blow against Tyr." Her back was a ram rod and her words were stiff.

"It was not the only reason." She didn't miss that he hadn't deny the accusation. "You are a beautiful woman, and I did want to show you what my kingdom looked like from this angle. There is beauty here Elska, and I wanted you to see it."

The sun had dipped behind the horizon now. The sky was fast approaching twilight. Elska didn't fancy the idea of being left alone in the dark with Brynjar.

"What do you want from me?" there was an edge of desperation in her voice. She knew these games would get tedious very quickly. She hoped perhaps in a week or two she would be able to leave this place with Tyr and not look back. She refused to think over the fact that they would be leaving Ingrid behind.

"I want Tyr to feel pain," his brazen honesty wasn't a surprise, but this time Brynjar moved Baelfire forward again and this time he took her hand. "But I'm starting to think that there is more to you than that."

Elska felt her skin tingle unpleasantly where his hand had captured hers. The air surrounding them was starting to feel heavy and stiff. "If you think I would join you in your bed as a concubine, you're wrong."

"I knew that already." His words had shaken something inside of her. If he didn't intend to force her to whoring herself around, what was the dark look she saw past the depth in his eye.

"We should head back. We've been gone a very long time." She managed to pull her hand out of his. He didn't protest. They guided their mounts back down the hill. It was when they reached the base that they noticed the unsettling large spiral of smoke rising from the castle in the distance.

"Do you often have bonfires?" Elska asked as the plume of smoke was dark and thick around the middle.

Brynjar felt his concern grow as he shook his head. It was not a natural smoke coming from the hearths in the castle. He didn't like the look of it.

"Let us make haste," his mind had moved from Elska and was now focused on the column in the distance. They spurred their horses into a canter.

It took near an hour for them to enter through the castle gates. By this time the column was thick and black. As they had approached it was evident the fire was coming from the kitchen gardens. They dismounted and abandoned their horses to one of the stable boys. Elska was hot on Brynjar's heel as they rushed through the mayhem around them. Elska's mind jumped to Ingrid and Tyr. Were they safe? Had one of them started it? She quickly threw that thought out. It was preposterous.

The kitchen gardens were larger than Elska would've thought. The plants were scalding and smoke filled the area making anyone bold enough to approach choke on the air. Elska's eyes watered and burned as she pinned her sleeve against her face. She coughed and wheezed. By now there was a line of men using buckets back and forth trying to put out the large blaze. There were some of the woman putting out the smaller fires with carpets and blankets.

Brynjar stared at the fire in horror. If they couldn't get the blaze out it would consume the castle. "How did this start?" he barked to a man in the line.

"We don't know sire!"

Brynjar moved past the line. He moved away from the main source as he caught a glimpse of dark skin behind a burning log. Brynjar felt his stomach twist painfully as he realize a large branch had broken from one of the trees and had successfully trapped whoever had been dumb enough to be close by.

With horror, Brynjar realized the idiot was Evangelina. He gritted his teeth and growled. The way the branch had fallen had put her in a corner. The smoke made it difficult to see her clearly, but he knew it was her. He felt his anger flare with her. She was going to get herself killed.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted at her as he rushed forward to grasp the small portion of the heavy limb that hadn't ignited in fire. He felt the heat scorch into his skin as he pulled the branch up. He could feel the flames licking hungrily at his boot. His muscles were shaking as he kept the limb hoisted up high enough for Evangelina to get out. Once she was out he was about to drop the heavy branch when there was another distinct crack.

The tree had split in two. Brynjar did not have enough time to reach as the tree came to a shrieking halt on top of his body. The burning branch had trapped his legs and the half of the tree that had fallen lay heavily on his chest. He cried out in pain as the smoldering tree burned through his tunic and into his skin.

While Brynjar had taken off further into the garden Elska had quickly taken an extra blanket that had been shoved her way and she began to hit the fire as best she could in hopes of smothering it. The smoke was choking her and soon she had streaks of soot across her face as the fires fought back.

Was Ingrid still with Lelinus? Did they know that the herb garden had caught fire? Why would this fire go out?

Elska squinted through the haze trying to see if any of the men in the bucket assembly were Tyr. She had lost track of Brynjar and had to quickly put her attention on the burning bush in front of her.

Evangelina sat in the garden, enjoying the sweet fragrances that came from each of the unique and foreign flowers of this land. Of course, they were only foreign to her. As she whispered her fingers over the velvety petals of the red rose, she wondered how long before this place felt like home. She'd been in this part of the world for a year or so now, but the place never felt like home. Even when she had her own little cottage in the small town where the king had found her selling her wares. She'd thought at once, that it was because of her coloring, she would go months without seeing anyone with her shade but that wasn't it, perhaps it had something to do with the fact that her accent was still as strong as it had been when she'd first arrived. She didn't want to give it up nor did she try so that couldn't be it either.

Then she thought back to these last few days in the palace. The place was filled with intrigue and danger, making her feel even more out of place. She had no idea who did what to whose family which caused the feud and why the tension was so high between the families. She made a few friends though, The Prince was kind, though she rarely saw him or his wife, the fearsome Lady Ingrid, who she noted wore her bracelets, as if to say she did have a friend in this place, considering she was just as much of a stranger to this place as she was. She really ought to speak to her more. Then she thought of the sweet Brother Beorn. His interest in her was not in the least bit subtle but it was sweet nonetheless. She had enough to deal with, with the king.

Something stirred within her at the thought of him. She felt a twinge of fear and excitement every time she made her way to his chambers. It was incredibly foolish of her to put herself in danger like that but, and she hated to admit it, it was fun. She could understand why he enjoyed her company, because as far as she could tell, she gave him a similar rush. Surely, not the same, since he wasn't in any danger, but she could see without looking how the women and even some men walked around him like he'd order their death for sneezing. He didn't have anyone to defy him in a way that was just enough that it wasn't disrespectful. She didn't show that she was afraid of him and she wasn't about to.

Just before her thoughts began to drift toward their last encounter and his asking for a kiss and odd smell touched her senses. She had been seated on of the stone plant boxes and stood and sniffed. She frowned. "What is that?" She asked no one before a sharp crack echoed out and flames erupted before her eyes. She jumped back as smoke filled the gardens, the smell of burning wood, and flowers invaded her nostrils. Covering her mouth with a hand, she started for an exit. Wood cracked and embers leaped from all directions and it didn't take long before the entire place was in flames and she was trapped within a wall of fire. She rounded back, hoping to find another way out, but only found flames encroaching on her. Choking on smoke, she watched as a tree snapped, the sound echoing in her ears, She leaped back, her back hitting a wall and to her horror, she found herself pinned in the corner. Flames licked at her skin as they grew closer, so hot it felt like needles.

Smoke-induced tears stung her eyes and stole her breath, as she tried to find a way to get around the burning tree.

"What are you doing here?" called a familiar voice. Evangelina blinked a few times to see Brynjar barreling toward her, anger as hot as the flames themselves, and by the gods was she happy to see him so much so that she started toward the burning tree, toward him in a sprint as he hefted a part of the heavy limb, allowing her to duck under, which she did, the momentum of her sprint caused her to almost run right passed him, before she had time to turn around to thank him,

Another crack sounded, she whipped around as another tree cracked and toppled to the ground, pinning Brynjar beneath it. Evangelina wasted no time, she slid to her knees, and tried to pull his legs from where they'd been trapped, and when that didn't work, she decided the tree would be easier to move, so she anchored herself at his side, and used her shoulder and arms to push the tree that had fallen on his chest. She had to ignore his cries of pain, knowing that this was going to hurt but it was either that or he burned to death trying to save her.

Like an echo, the thought bounced around her head. He was trying to save her. He ran into the fire, to save her.

Strength anew, she dug her feet into the ground, the flames on the tree, curling around her shoulder and arm as she pushed, cried out with the effort, and sure enough the tree moved. Her muscles burned, but she didn't let that stop her, as she bent down, hooking her arms under his and pulling him with great effort backward, freeing his legs as well. She dropped to the ground, her body racked with coughs. "I thought... you were supposed... to be rescuing... me," She offered between breaths. "C'mon, up, I won't let you die for me," She said as she turned, trying to help him up, if his legs were as ruined as her arms, they weren't going to make it out of here alive

Everything was burning. Beorn could only watch in horror as the garden he had spent over a decade tending to went down in flames. Steeling himself, he rushed in to the garden, ignoring the danger it presented him. There were only a few herbs he could yank from the ground and pocket, but it was better than nothing. He choked hoarsely on the smoke, but he refused to let himself fall. Instead, he dropped to the ground to avoid the noxious vapors and crawled through it. Then he saw them.

"Evangelina, what are you doing here?" he asked, concern etched itno his features before he spotted Brynjar. His face darkened. This fire was convenient for him. If Lelinus died because of this, his position would be secured. Just like Artos' death meant his succession to the throne.

For a brief moment, dark thoughts entered into his mind. He could knock Evangelina out. He could e leave Brynjar here to die in the fire he started and she and Leo would be safe from him. He quickly squashed those thoughts. They were the thoughts of Demons and tyrants, not an Artemesian. He approached her and moved to help place him on his shoulders as well.

"Come on."



Julius stared at the piece of parchment in his hands. He admired the penmanship. It was rare to find a knight who could also write and write well. The author made all the right appeals to God and the Church and had significant support among the local clergy and the populace. If it had been a man, he'd be beside himself with welcoming him to court.

But this was a woman. And her use of the sword meant she straddled the line between orthodoxy and heresy. The prevailing opinion among the Faith for many years had been that Artemesia had transcended the normal gender divisions between gender, being God in the flesh, but the opposing view was not outright condemned. His actions now would have ramifications for his position and his ambitions. Still, whether he would condemn or support her, he needed her at court.

To Sir Sarah Morgane, Knight-Commander of the Scarlet Order:

We extend to you our apostolic greetings and our thanks that you now, at this war's conclusion, have of your own free will sought the sanction of the One True Church and are prepared to submit an explanation for your actions. You are hereby welcomed to the Capital where you may speak before Us and His Grace, King Brynjar, King of Byrdain and Protector of the Realm. We heartily look forward to your arrival.

His Excellency,

Julius Gadfael

Patriarch of the Church in Byrdain and Chancellor to the King

Brynjar let out a mangled scream as the flaming tree was branding his skin. The flames licked hungrily at his clothes as they tried to devour him. He cursed loudly as this was not the death he had envisioned for himself. He braced his hands underneath the heavily burning tree as Evangelina was putting her weight behind it. Between the two they managed to lift the tree and cast it off of him. His body was shaking from adrenaline and Evangelina managed to hook underneath his shoulders and pull his legs free.

The heat had seared into his flesh and each breath was a lance of pain as his burnt skin was stretched. He stared up at her as she wheezed and coughed. He allowed her to help him get to his feet, but his knees threatened to buckle. It was now that he realized the fire had eaten into his legs, though the pain and damage wasn't near as great as it was on his chest. The smoke was surrounding them defiling any good left in the air. Brynjar was leaning heavily on Evangelina at this point. The burning was stopping even though the fire had been removed. He could see darkness encroach the corners of his vision. He gritted his teeth. He couldn't pass out now.

A man emerged from the smoke and it was very nearly the last person Brynjar would have wanted to see. Brother Beorn stood before them briefly before moving to Brynjar's other side and helping to hoist his weighty bulk up. Brynjar could do nothing but lean and allow the two lowly servants support him as they dragged him away from the flames. They made it to the edge of the courtyard where the air was fresher. Brynjar grunted for them to stop.

By now the flames were falling under control as the bucket line methodically put the fires out. He glimpsed towards the women battling the dying embers and noticed Elska slamming her own carpet against the red demon. Her shoulders were shaking and her face was covered in soot.

Brynjar could feel his strength failing. His fear of the fire spreading was calmed as the lingering flames were doused. "Get me," he wheezed and coughed and then groaned from the pain. "...chambers..." he managed to mutter out. He wasn't sure how far he could walk before he would collapse from the pain and shock that was pulsing through his body.

Ingrid took the rag from Beorn and gently pressed the cold bundle to Leo’s brow, while Beorn busied himself by the shelves. Ingrid had never been one for herbalism, it was far too delicate a process with far too much riding on it. Too little of an ingredient and nothing would happen, too much and a man might die because of your carelessness. On the battlefield, delicacy was not required.

“You should go and gather some more supplies,” she said quietly. “Better now when he is safe rather than later when it might be vital.”

The smell of acrid smoke drifted down the hallways as Ingrid tended to Lelinus. Beorn had gone and she could hear cries carry down the corridor. Her instincts pulled her in both directions. Run and help douse the flames, or stay with Lelinus. There was something in her that feared leaving Lelinus would be worse, not least if Brynjar was wandering around. Who knew what that bastard would do given free reign over his ill brother. No, for Lelinus’s sake, she would stay with him. “It’s alright love,” she murmured gently, wiping his brow, as she idly counted the days in her head again. She paused and began again, counting the days down on her hands. She must have miscounted, perhaps she had added a day onto their journey, or lost track of how long she had been here. Ingrid pushed the conclusion that was forming in her mind down. It was too soon for that surely? She shook her head and waited by Lelinus for Beorn to return.



Chaos everywhere. Red flames crackled as they grew higher, the smoke swirling, thick and black. The courtyard grew darker as the smoke blocked out whatever sun there had been. Men shouted orders and Tyr realised that he had frozen. He looked around, trying to peer through the flames to see if he could find Ingrid anywhere in the crowd or the courtyard. He saw Brynjar cross the courtyard to a far corner where another figure was obscured by the flame. Seeing no sign of his sister, Tyr grabbed a bucket of water and joined the efforts in getting the fire under control.

He heard a cry as he continued throwing water on the blaze and briefly looked up to see Brynjar and a serving girl being pulled from the flames. She must be the favourite of the month, assuming Brynjar didn’t change his fancy more often than that. The fire was under control now, but the carnage it had left behind was going to take much longer to repair. Where there had once been a garden, there was now little more than ash.

As the crowd thinned, Tyr noticed Elska beating back the flames. He wove through the people who remained until he was by her side. This close, he could see that she was shaking. He put his arm across her shoulders and gently pulled her back. “It’s done Elska, you can stop now. You can stop. Let me look at you,” he said as he turned her to face him. He studied her face as his hands grazed against her arms, his gaze following behind them. He turned her hands over in his and saw the early appearance of burns on her hands. “You need to get these seen to before they blister.”

Evangelina struggled to keep Brynjar up, her arms stung, her chest was tight and darkness encroached on her vision. If she could just find an exit. Suddenly, Beorn appeard out of nowhere. "Evangelina, what are you doing here?" He asked and Evangelina would have groaned, if it weren't for the shortness of her breath. Why is that the question both of them asked. It was a garden and she liked flowers, why wouldn't she be here when she had a break? Beron's face darkened as his eyes fell on Brynjar. Even with the tunnel vision, she saw the look. Did he think she was here with him? Some romantic rednveous in the garden and that look was sparked by jealousy?

Evangelina shook those thoughts away. Oxygen must be short, she was thinking crazy. "Just help me." She tried to say but coughed instead. Beron mmoved to them to took Bynjar's other arm over his shoulder and they made ther way toward where Beron had entered. "Get me....my chambers." Brynjar tried to order but Evangelina hissed a shush. "Save your breath." She told him as they made their escape.

Soon ehough they hobbled to his chamber and Evaneglina helped Brynjar into his bed with Beron's asstiance. Once he was down, she backed into the wall and her arms shook from the pain of the burning. She took in greedy gulps of breath as she slid down the wall, her muscles ached so badly she could no longer stand. She closed her eyes against the pan, holding her arms out in fear that merely touching the seering burns would make the pain that much worse and she dare not look.

"You're gentler than you appear," Lelinus murmured. The fever was still there and his body felt warm alnd sluggish, but he could still talk. He smiled when he felt her wipe his brow and he placed a hand on hers, "Don't worry. I am still here."

He glanced out their door, frowning slightly as he heard a dizzying commotion outside Beorn's quarters and then he smelt it. Smoke. He glanced at the shutters keeping the garden from their view, but not the few tendrils of smoke making their way into the room. He looked thoughtful.

"I didn't think my brother was capable of this," he whispered, "To arrange for a fire to be set in the gardens while I was ill... It was either his doing or terrible luck on our part."



Beorn said nothing as they helped the young king to his bed. He was not particularly gentle, but he did not go out of his way to cause him discomfort either. instead, he examined his injuries with thoughtful expression. They looked much worse than they were. All in all, Brynjar was quite fortunate. With time and some salve he had in his stores, the king would recover without a scar. He nodded in satisfaction.

"I will get you medicine and bandages, Your Grace. After a good night's rest, you should be up and about. I wish I could say the same for Prince Lelinus," he told him before glancing at Evangelina and noticing her discomfort.

"I will treat you as well, Evangelina," he told her. Inside his head, however, his thoughts were racing. How could he treat Leo with his supplies running out?

Evaneglina, with her eyes still closed to the pain, nodded to Beorn's words. She could make no other motion. The Adrenaline had worn and the pain from the burns intensified as did the strain she'd put on her muscles to lift that tree. She had help, of course, but he could only do some much without leverage. She thought it odd as to why Brother mentioned the prince and seemed to disregard the King's injuries. Did he not see?

Suddenly, Evangelina's eyes sprang open and she looked on the King with new eyes. She saw. He wasn't as bad as everyone claimed he was, what he claimed he was. If he were, he wouldn't have nearly gotten himself killed to save her from a fire.He was angry about it too, which was especially odd. Not only did he care, he cared enough to be angry when she put herself in harm's way.

She attempted to stand up, still holding her hands for fear of touching them to anything but she could only manage a whimper and a cough. Smoke still filled her lungs and she did not take in enough air. Her head and chest ached but she fought it. "Your Grace?" she called wishing she weren't so hurt so she could properly appraise him, all she could manage was a visual once-over from where she was against the wall. Looking at him through blurry eyes, he was covered in dirt, soot, debris and flakes of burned skin. he'd survive, like Boren said but he would n't be very active. She had a feeling her job may have gotten a lot harder, but perhaps a bit more pleasant. It was an act, a mask, she realized, this monster he wore, but so rather do mask cover the eyes. His eyes were dark, and what she thought she saw once, bitterness, self- righteousness, was actually just guarded. There was much more to him than what he let on and there was truth to his father's words. He was hiding, and it was her promise to bring it forth. Perhaps, she'd seen a glimpse of the man behind the mask. "You saved... me..." She breathed, her voice hoarse and she had to suck in a few breathes to continue to speak. "Why?" She managed but before she could hear his answer, she was overcome with a fit of coughing, and gasping before exhaustion, and pain overwhelmed her and the world went dark.

Evaneglina, with her eyes still closed to the pain, nodded to Beorn's words. She could make no other motion. The Adrenaline had worn and the pain from the burns intensified as did the strain she'd put on her muscles to lift that tree. She had help, of course, but he could only do some much without leverage. She thought it odd as to why Brother mentioned the prince and seemed to disregard the King's injuries. Did he not see?

Suddenly, Evangelina's eyes sprang open and she looked on the King with new eyes. She saw. He wasn't as bad as everyone claimed he was, what he claimed he was. If he were, he wouldn't have nearly gotten himself killed to save her from a fire.He was angry about it too, which was especially odd. Not only did he care, he cared enough to be angry when she put herself in harm's way.

She attempted to stand up, still holding her hands for fear of touching them to anything but she could only manage a whimper and a cough. Smoke still filled her lungs and she did not take in enough air. Her head and chest ached but she fought it. "Your Grace?" she called wishing she weren't so hurt so she could properly appraise him, all she could manage was a visual once-over from where she was against the wall. Looking at him through blurry eyes, he was covered in dirt, soot, debris and flakes of burned skin. he'd survive, like Boren said but he would n't be very active. She had a feeling her job may have gotten a lot harder, but perhaps a bit more pleasant. It was an act, a mask, she realized, this monster he wore, but so rather do mask cover the eyes. His eyes were dark, and what she thought she saw once, bitterness, self- righteousness, was actually just guarded. There was much more to him than what he let on and there was truth to his father's words. He was hiding, and it was her promise to bring it forth. Perhaps, she'd seen a glimpse of the man behind the mask. "You saved... me..." She breathed, her voice hoarse and she had to suck in a few breathes to continue to speak. "Why?" She managed but before she could hear his answer, she was overcome with a fit of coughing, and gasping before exhaustion, and pain overwhelmed her and the world went dark.

The walk to Brynjar’s chambers was one of the most difficult he had experienced. He hated having to receive support from Brother Beorn and Evangelina. However, he knew that he would never have made it on his own. He wasn’t about to lay prostrate in the burned out garden where he could be seen as weak. He was a king. He had to be strong.

Of course no amount of strength could fight off the pain that was seared into his skin, nor the choke of smoke that continued to claw at his throat and twist in his lungs. Once he was on the bed he relaxed against the covers. Brother Beorn peeled away the charred fabric from his skin before examining the burns. They seemed to be a second degree burn at the worst. Brynjar could feel the shakiness in his limbs from lifting the branch to save Evangelina as well as trying to shove the tree that had trapped him.

He looked over at her. She looked terrible. Even in her state there was a twist in his gut. She had nearly gone up in flame. Why did that thought bother him as much as it did? He wouldn’t have a second thought if it was Brother Beorn, and he be downright jolly if it had been Lelinus. Why did the idea of her death seem to rattle his cold and dead heart?

There was an accusation in Beorn’s tone as he mentioned the sickly prince. Brynjar quirked a brow as the monk retreated to his thoughts. Brynjar didn’t start the fire, but he knew others would doubt the truth. No one would say it aloud, but he knew there would be whispers that he had arranged for the fire to be lit.

The thought was almost laughable. He hadn’t ever thought of destroying the herbs that continually brought Lelinus back from the brink, but now this was a convenient accident. With Lelinus already in his sick bed, would it take much to tip the scale a bit more in Brynjar’s favor?

His train was disrupted as he was overcome by a coughing fit. Once he calmed Evangelina was giving him an odd look. He feel exposed under her scrutiny and he didn’t like it one bit. She was eyeing him as though she could read him, see through him.

He glowered at her.

”You...saved me...why?” Brynjar clenched his teeth together. He was not about to approach that topic. He was going to snap at her, make some rushed excuse, but he was saved from it as she swayed on her feet before toppling.

There was a burst of relief in his chest. He didn’t have to address her question.

“Get her out of her, then bring the salve and bandages.” He barked at Brother Beorn. He knew the monk despised him, and he had noticed the soft spot he was developing for his handmaiden. Brother Beorn would ensure her health without Brynjar having to step further into unknown territory that was sending questions and emotions through him he was desperately trying to stifle.

“Now!” he ordered harshly before dissolving into another coughing fit. “And bring some tea back with you.” He wheezed a bit and was forced to fall quiet at this point.

Once he was left alone in his chambers his mind began to churn like the rivers with the winter melt. He had everything carefully under his control. He had positioned and manipulated those around him to where he needed them to be. He would have Elska for a wife, Tyr would lose the second closest thing to his heart, and if he was luckily, Ingrid would be a widow before the week was up.

Their was just one anomaly.

Evangelina.

Quickly, Beorn escorted Evangelina out of the king's room with a quick bow. Privately, he wondered if it would have been better had the young died, but he squashed that thought. As wicked a man as Brynjar clearly was, he was human and thus had some good in him. He had saved Evangelina, after all. Quickly on deciding to treat Evangelina first, he escorted her to his room where Lelinus was resting and applied salve to her wounds before bandaging them.

"I am glad you were not hurt worse..." he murmured for lack of a better thing to say. Gently, he treated her wounds before getting started on Brynjar's tea and gathering supplies to treat the young king's own wounds.

"I only pray that Leo will recover..."

****



By some divine providence, Prince Lelinus did not die. Perhaps it was the work of his father interceding for him in Heaven, Julius mused, but he did not have time to muse about such matters. The prince's health may still be in flux, but today would mark an important chapter in Byrdain's religious history. This was the day that Sarah Morgane arrived to answer his summons. Julius stood before the king, having already gone over this and that matter with him in his capacity as chancellor.

"What is Your Grace's opinion at this moment?" he asked, careful to keep his tone neutral, "There are some who would consider this priestess a heretic, but she is popular among the peasantry. Her presence.... Upsets things. She may even be a threat to you if she cannot be controlled."

What would happen if she deemed the king wicked? A charismatic peasant could topple an empire. History told them as much. Yet, if she could be controlled, she would be a valuable ally.



"You are feeling better," Beorn noted. Leo nodded from his place in front of the fire. Beorn had resorted to keeping him as warm as possible for a lack of any other way to treat his illness. It was believed that heat would kill the sickness, but Lelinus wasn't so sure.

"It comes and goes. I wish Ingrid did not have to see me like this," he murmured.

"She admires your strength, my prince. Truly. It takes a strong person to come back from the brink."

He nodded, too tired to argue. He despised how weak he was at the moment. He was sure his brother was having a merry laugh about it somewhere. He knew that he arranged for the destruction of Beorn's garden. It was common knowledge that he depended on the herbs grown there when he got sick. Still, he wouldn't give Brynjar the satisfaction of seeing him dead. He would live and go about his life as ably as he could.

"What do you think of the priestess coming to court, Sarah Morgane?"

"She sounds like a brave woman... Too good of a one to deserve to have her fate decided by the Patriarch and your brother."

"Then we will have to help her. Who knows. She might even perform a miracle and cure me," he noted wryly, "Please have her visit me."

"Leo..."

"I'm strong enough for a conversation, Beorn."

Lelinus had pulled through his fever. While he had been recovering, Ingrid had been obsessively counting the days that had passed. Even allowing for any error, there was no denying at least the possibility that she was carrying a child. It was rare that she was alone, but she was for now. She rested her hand on her stomach, imagining the child that might grow there. There was so much that still had to be done, and the possibility of a child only made her more desperate to see that their plan came to fruition.

She fastened her belt, leaving it a little looser than normal as it hung from her hips. Brynjar had recovered from his injuries as well. She had painted a pretty face when the news had reached her. There was no need to arouse suspicion from anyone just yet. She was certain that Brynjar had had a hand, however indirect, in the fire that had almost cost Lelinus his life. That was a transgression that Ingrid would not let slide. She knocked on the door of Lelinus’s room, announcing her arrival.

The fire was roaring beside Lelinus as she took a seat beside him. “How are you feeling?” she asked, taking his hand. She could talk to Beorn in a moment. For now, Lelinus was her focus.

"I think that your reasoning is sound, Your Grace. Your favor offers her riches and power beyond her wildest dreams, enough to ensure the propagation of her ideas and the continued existence of her order. Not to mention my patronage will ensure her the support of our holy mother church. If she turns against us despite all we can offer her, then she is a fanatic and fanatics are dangerous," he noted.

Julius ignored Evangelina. He had not quite forgiven the girl for her rude words to him upon meeting him. Still, he did not go out of his way to make things miserable for her. He was not the petty tyrant his rivals made him out to be. As he contemplated his next words, a servant arrived.

"Your Grace, Your Immanence, Ser Sarah Morgane has arrived," he reported breathlessly. Julius smiled.

"Ah. Apt timing."



Leo smiled at his wife. It had been pleasant for her to be with him during his time of trial. She had been gentle and attentive, nothing like the way people perceived her. Yet she had seemed distracted. Perhaps she was worried what would happen if his fever killed him. He couldn't blame her. He squeezed her hand.

"I am feeling much better. I think I am well enough to attend court if not today then tomorrow," Leo told her with a smile. Beorn bit his lip.

"You still have a fever."

"But the worst is over. I know my body. I should be as healthy as I ever am in a few days."

Beorn was about to reply when one of Lelinus' servants entered. He bowed to the prince.

"My prince. Ser Sarah has arrived! She is going to meet the king and the Patriarch."

Lelinus frowned.

"I had wanted to meet her first... Go, send her my greetings and invite her to my rooms. We must speak with her."

He glanced at Ingrid. If they were to survive and remove his brother from power, they would need the support of the people. The support this female war priestess commanded.

"It's a gamble... But a holy person would see through the Patriarch's greed and my brother's vanity," he murmured. Beorn looked thoughtful.

"I pray you are right."

“Don’t strain yourself. I don’t want you pushing yourself to exhaustion again,” she said, quietly siding with Beorn on the case of Lelinus’s health. She turned to the holy man to ask him if they might speak in private, but before she form any words, a servant came in. He bowed to Lelinus. Her grip on her husband’s hand momentarily tightened as she turned her gaze to the fire. She was used to the slights from the servants, but that didn’t mean the sting had completely vanished from them. It wasn’t that she thought that she was above them, but she certainly wasn’t deserving of this lack of respect, especially if one such as Brynjar was worthy of their reverence.

"My prince. Ser Sarah has arrived! She is going to meet the king and the Patriarch."

"I had wanted to meet her first... Go, send her my greetings and invite her to my rooms. We must speak with her."

Ingrid perked up at this knowledge. She had known that the warrior priestess was arriving soon, but she hadn’t realised that she was quite this important. “Perhaps I could talk to her? Woman to woman, warrior to warrior. She might be more inclined to listen to someone who has been in a similar position to herself?” Her gaze unwittingly looked over to the servant, whose attention was still on Lelinus. She looked to her husband before looking back to the flames. “Despite everything, I am still an outsider here.”

Leo felt his wife's grip tighten and saw the way she looked away in anger. His gaze fell upon the servant. Ah, He thought. This would need to be rectified. Ingrid was their princess and if they had their way, their future queen. It would not do for her to be slighted like this. He sent a glare the servant's way and he was gratified to see him squirm.

"Protocol please," he murmured before smiling at Ingrid and kissing her hand, "Do not worry, love. I will not exhaust myself. A part of me hopes the rumors that she can perform miracles is not just peasant gossip. I'd love to not deal with this every few months."

He squeezed her hand, "You speaking to her might be better. I do not know how she feels about Northmen, but it's a chance worth taking. If she is inclined to Brynjar's way of thinking, we cannot do anything about it. Take Beorn with you. He can be of some help. She would respect a monk at least."

"But, Lelinus. You are still weak," Beorn objected. Leo smiled mischievously. He gestured the servant who fidgeted nervously.

"Don't worry, I have someone to help me around."

Beorn suppressed a snort. Well, he'd learn not to slight Ingrid at least.



"It is good to see you, Ser Morgane," Julius told the young woman with a slight smile. It was rare to meet someone who showed him respect with no hidden contempt or guile beneath the smile. He walked beside her as they made their way to the throne room, ignoring the king's maid. It was well that Brynjar reminded her of her place.

"I have heard nothing but good things about you, Ser Morgane, but forgive me for having to question you on your doctrine. It is my solemn duty to safeguard the orthodoxy of the Church in His Grace's realm," he noted. It was good that she recognized their authority, he thought, but there was no harm in a subtle reminder of the power of his position. Still, all would be well as long as the knight was not confronted with the king's... faults.

If there was a proper way of welcoming a pious hero from a war against a heathen enemy, Lelinus was certain that an extravagant gala was not it. Still, his brother was one to put on a show and as the king, it was his right and Ser Morgane would have been foolish to refuse so Lelinus found himself outside a hall full of masked strangers in a gold and blue garment with a white mask hiding his face. It was simpler than many of his peers as Leo found little need to keep up with the fashions that were popular across the sea in Valmagne or spend his family's wealth on more gold and precious metals than he had bare skin. Nonetheless, it was appropriate attire for royalty, though Leo was sure that his brother would wear something gold and gaudy.

"Well, instead of people disguising their thoughts behind false faces, they will be wearing masks tonight. Awfully convenient, don't you think?" he asked his Beorn with a slight smirk. The monk was dressed in fine black robes and a silver mask, quite different from his healing persona, but then, those robes were the finest ones he owned and he had only reluctantly accepted the mask Leo had gifted him with.

"Indeed. It all feels more honest, somehow," Beorn replied. Still, Leo smiled beneath his mask.

"You should have no trouble finding Evangelina. I think you'd cut a dashing figure."

His friend flushed, but said nothing, far past denying his interest in the foreign woman. He looked around.

"Is your lady wife attending?"

"I simply came ahead to scout the area before we made our entrance. She was still chaning last I checked." He stated with a look of concern. Ingrid had been behaving strangely the past day or so. He had become worried. He clasped his friend's back.

"I will be back. I need to check up on her. Scout the room, will you?" he asked.

Beorn nodded, heading through the doors with a confident gait. Somehow, being in disguise made him less uncomfortable in these situations. He could be nearly anyone and that filled him with a sort of freedom he was not used to. His eyes scanned the room for the king and the Patriarch as well as for someone who might be the knight this event was held for.

"No, no. I just wanted to check up on you. You've seemed a bit distant lately and I wanted to see you before we dive into the pit of snakes," he told her, gesturing towards the ballroom. He could not help but take in her appearance with a slight smile. Sometimes, he could not believe he was married to such a beautiful woman. She definitely didn't like it and her leathers suited her more, but she was still beautiful, if only in a different way.

"You would be happy to know that the women in there wear dresses three times as ridiculious as yours, but are not a quarter as lovely as you are," he told her honestly.



The masquerade was a silly thing, Beorn thought to himself. Many of the fine lords and ladies here wore garments worth more than his own life. But he was glad that Lelinus pulled some strings to arrange for himself and Evangelina to attend. If he coud only... If he could cast himself in a different light then maybe she might return his interest in her. It was a silly desire in times like these, but he could not help but possess it all the same.

"I hope that you are enjoying the party. I don't think there are many woman who are as lovely tonight as yourself," he tried as he approached Evangelina with a smile on his face when he saw she was alone.

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Evangelina stood along the wall as the lords and ladies gathered around, mingling amongst themselves. Her mask was down but it hardly mattered. She stuck out like a sore thumb so she was avoided as per usual. That was fine, though, as she watched the King. She should not be so fascinated by him. She should be repulsed, and yet here she was, hoping he'd look in her direction. Perhaps she'd gotten used to him invading her space, much like a solider might get used to an old wound, was it pleasant, no but it was normal, without his constant pestering and their argumentative back and forth, it was strange, foreign almost, a feeling she'd become accustom to, ironically.

Why was he avoiding her? Well, she knew why but that gave way to another question. Why save her? Why be so angry that she'd nearly gotten herself killed? No one did that for a person that cared nothing about and Brynjar didn't seem to care for anything but his ambitions, whatever they were....was she the exception of this rule? If so, why her? What had she done that made him care? Stand up to him? She did that but just barely. What was she doing right? If he cared, that would explain why he was avoiding her, but it seemed so farfetched.

"I hope that you are enjoying the party. I don't think there are many women who are as lovely tonight as yourself," Brother Beorn broke her from her thoughts. She smiled at him behind her mask. "You are too kind." She said, but she honestly, caught most of what he'd said to her. She gave him a once-over. "You look nice." She said. "I am glad to see you in something other than those robes, color does well on you." She said, and honestly, she would stand to see anyone and something other than the muted colors they were. Her eyes drifted to Brynjar, he stood out too, but he was King he was supposed to. His gold and red shone brightly, catching any light it could. He was the only one in such vibrancy....or was that just to her eyes. "How are you enjoying the party?" She asked. "I'm afraid, I don't know what to do with myself, I have never had a night off since arriving here. "She said with a chuckle, looking back at Brother Beorn.