A E Johnson

by alice johnson

  at the bottom of the hill.

  Seeing them coming towards her, Branwen slowed.

  “I saw Svend returning alone,” she panted as she tried

  to catch her breath.

  Harris, Kyla and Anna seemed in extremely high

  spirits. “He needed a rest.” His smile remained wide.

  “But this is getting to be a habit now, Branwen.”

  As they each came together, they made their way

  back towards the castle. Branwen raised her brows. “I

  was simply worried about my friends.”

  They each felt warmed by her comment. “Thank

  you, Branwen,” said Kyla, “it’s still dangerous out here

  though, the Atlanti will soon be out to collect from the

  field.” She had a tone of sarcasm as she looked to

  Branwen. “No matter how well trained you are.”

  Branwen raised her head. “Perhaps that was a

  slight exaggeration,” she admitted, “either way, I didn’t

  mean any harm.”

  “Trained?” asked Harris, intrigued that Branwen

  would be trained in anything relating to war.

  Branwen gave a pinched expression. “I used to

  watch the soldiers in the fields of Sonnin,” she softly

  said, battered by the very thought of her exaggeration

  being misinterpreted as a lie. “I thought I’d picked

  something up, clearly, I didn’t,” she said with

  embarrassment.

  Anna could not help but laugh. “We were just

  shocked that anyone would do that for Harris,” she

  said with a low tone, “he can look after himself.”

  Her comment seemed to spark something in Kyla.

  “Perhaps he shouldn’t have to always look after

  himself,” she commented. As one of the few women

  Harris had not had relations with, Kyla still held some

  affection towards her commander.

  Branwen soon defended her actions. “Exactly

  that,” she quickly said, “no one should ever have to

  depend on themselves, especially when they have an

  entire army at their disposal.”

  “Trust me, Branwen,” said Anna as she turned to

  look at her, “this one,” she pointed to Harris, “can

  look after himself, I’m sure he would rather die than

  see someone take the fall for him,” she looked to

  Harris.

  Harris held his hands up. “While I usually enjoy

  the thought of women fighting over me, on this

  occasion I do need to mention I am still here,” he put

  his arms down, resting his hand on the hilt of his

  sword. “I can, however, confirm, I can look after

  myself, I’ve managed happily for the past twenty-nine

  years, don’t ever follow me again,” he said with his

  brows raised towards Branwen.

  Branwen replied with a low tone, “I won’t, it’s far

  too vulgar out there, I am needed in other areas of this

  world, a battle ground is not one of them.” They

  looked to Branwen as one of their own on so many

  occasions, but each time she spoke they were

  reminded that she was far from it, she was of royal

  blood, to them, it meant she was better than they

  would ever be, even though she did not believe that to

  be the case.

  The bloodied corpses would soon be cleared, the

  field would soon be ready for a new day, and a new

  battle. Harris, Branwen, Kyla and Anna made their

  way towards the castle Marrion. A cooler night began

  to hit, a lighter mood had finally begun to show in the

  castle, as they sat at the long benches in the dining

  halls the castle filled with laughter and cheer.

  Branwen had joined the celebration. “It’s the first

  time I’ve heard them all laugh together,” she

  commented as she stood beside Dominic.

  Dominic smiled at her, he turned to face Branwen,

  his clothes were finally clean, it was the first time she

  had seen them all without their armour, his thin tunic

  relaxed around him, his thin frame showed that not all

  soldiers were built like Harris. “It’s the charm of

  Harris,” he replied.

  He pointed to a small man, sat at the end of one of

  the tables. Branwen could make him out in the dimly

  lit and energetic room. The man wore a padding to his

  face, blood had seeped onto the dressing which

  showed he had a large gash to his face, it did not seem

  to bother him, as he made merry with his fellow

  fighters.

  “Him there, he wouldn’t be here, were it not for

  Harris,” said Dominic. He took a drink from his

  tankard. A soft look caught his eyes, a smile of grateful

  pride showed in his broken voice. “In fact, half of this

  lot wouldn’t be here.” Branwen looked around the

  vast amounts of soldiers in the dining halls. “You see,

  Branwen, many call him a cruel berserker,” he began

  to walk with Branwen. They made their way to one of

  the large tables set out with the banquet. “But Harris is

  more than that. The other commanders would see you

  dead in an instant, Harris on the other hand, he saves

  more than he kills, his obsession with being better

  than any, it seems to have paid off for him.”

  Branwen was impressed, she had seen so much of

  Harris’s success, but she was yet to see Harris.

  Alone in his chambers, Harris’s work was not over

  yet. The deaths would need to be counted, he had

  seen a lot survive that day, he had saved many, and his

  figures were showing. The door to his chambers

  opened. Slowly, Branwen stepped inside. He did not

  lift his head from the papers, he continued his work.

  Her voice was soft and troubled as she whispered,

  “Apologies, Harris.”

  His eyes lifted from the paper; his body remained

  solid. In a deep voice he asked, “For what?”

  Branwen sat at his desk, Harris lifted his head and

  looked towards her. She knew what she wanted to

  apologise for, only, she did not quite know how to say

  it.

  Softly she explained, “When I first met you, I

  didn’t know you,” she leant forward; she took a

  moment to think as Harris sat silently listening, “I

  knew nothing of you, only rumour, of a Xencliff

  porne.” She gave a slight laugh. Harris did not laugh

  or change his concentration. Branwen became serious

  as she continued. “I was wrong,” her voice began to

  break, she looked into his eyes, “I was so wrong,” she

  shook her head, a tear seemed to catch her eye, “you

  didn’t know it was me,” she softly said. “You didn’t

  know I was that soldier on the field. I could’ve been

  anyone, yet you still risked your life, to save a common

  soldier.” Harris gave a slow blink as he sat up in his

  chair. “You would do that, for anyone, but still,”

  disbelief seemed to catch her voice, “everything you

  achieve, everything you do, you should be celebrating

  with your fighters, those you’ve saved, but you’re here,

  preparing for the next, seeing the suffering. Now, I

  think I understand a little more about you.”

  Harris
placed his quill down, he glared towards

  Branwen as he reclined in his chair. “Still, you don’t

  know everything, Branwen.”

  Branwen gave a humble nod. She had seen him

  only at his best, she doubted he had ever had a day

  where he had not calculated every action he made.

  “As a friend, I’m always here to talk,” she offered.

  Harris was conflicted. He took a deep breath and

  relaxed in his chair. “Branwen, I know that everything

  I have told you is being sent back to your mother.”

  Branwen gave a look of horror. Harris held two

  fingers facing her. “It’s not a problem,” leaning

  forward he assured her, “I understand that your

  mother would wish to know,” his voice was high and

  filled with curiosity, “if she truly wants to know about

  me, I would like to meet her.”

  Branwen was doubtful she could arrange such a

  thing. She huffed, “She is the queen of Sonnin, Harris,

  she rarely has time for her own children.”

  A twisted smile grew. “I’m not her child, I am her

  champion.” She recognised his words as he continued.

  “I am dangerous, but only to the Atlanti, I am an

  insufferable flirt, but yes, I’m a charming one. And

  you,” his mouth parted for a moment as he enjoyed

  the look of horror on Branwen’s face, “need to hide

  your letters better.”

  Branwen sat straight, her eyes drifted to the desk

  with a blink. “You’ve been reading them.”

  Harris stood and made his way towards her. His

  strange mood broke. “I am different, but mostly

  because I need to know what people are saying about

  me,” he slowly nodded, “I must say your mother

  seems very fond of me.” His brows raised, “Some may

  say she’s fascinated.”

  “Stop building your ego,” said Branwen as she

  laughed. She watched him slowly walk towards her, he

  had a menacing look as he leant down and placed his

  hands either side of her chair, locking her in. Branwen

  held a look of concern, she looked to his hands on the

  arms of the chair.

  “Harris, what are you doing?”

  Harris dropped his head. He held his head back

  up, she looked into his deep green eyes, they were so

  inviting to her, his hair which was usually tied neatly

  back, fell to the side of his face.

  “I have had a very hard day, I’m expecting

  company,” he slowly blinked, “that is one reward I

  give myself.”

  Branwen felt her heart sink. “Very well,” she

  sighed as she began to stand, Harris stood to allow her

  up. She walked to the door; the same feeling of

  jealousy hit her. She turned to face Harris, her lips

  parted, a moment of absolute awe in him, passed.

  “Good night…Commander.”

  Harris looked to her from under his brow. “I

  could call her off,” said Harris. Branwen turned. “If

  you wish.”

  Branwen was also conflicted, she had been sure to

  make her feelings clear to Harris, but she did not

  know if he was playing with her or not.

  “I would like that, but also, I would like you to be

  peaceful, in whatever way you feel is right for you.”

  He slowly walked towards her, he took her hand,

  she felt a warm tingle run through her blood. He

  entwined her fingers into his.

  Tenderly he whispered, “You bring me all the

  peace I need, Branwen.” He leant forward and softly

  kissed her lips. He stood back slightly. “I want to

  please you; I feel like I’ve not done that lately.”

  Branwen gave a twisted smile, she knew what she

  wanted, now she knew he wanted the same. Wrapping

  his arm around her small waist he began to kiss her

  neck; a fire ignited her soul. Burning passion took

  hold of her. Softly he held her neck and kissed her

  chest. He untied the top of her flowing lilac dress. Her

  breasts were deceivingly large, kissing them her veins

  began to pulse with passion. Harris took a knee and

  gave her a pleasure she never knew existed. He

  remained knelt on the floor as she ran her fingers

  through his hair. He wrapped his arms around her

  legs and lifted her, while continuing to please her, he

  laid her on his bed. She finally had gotten her own way

  with Harris, and she was elated. Having never known

  the touch of a man, her chastity was still intact, she

  never thought it possible, but Harris was certainly

  different.

  As they lay in his bed on the warm Marrion night,

  they could hear the merriments from the courtyard

  below. Harris rested his head on his hand and his

  elbow on his pillow, he looked down towards her in

  his bed. Her soft skin blended with the silk sheets as

  she held them over her.

  “I never thought it possible,” she softly whispered.

  He ran his finger over her soft skin on her chest.

  His eyes met hers as he asked, “Never thought

  what possible?”

  She looked into his deep pools of green inviting

  eyes, the otherworldly glare he seemed to hold had

  her trapped, enchanted. “I never thought any of that

  would be possible.” She seemed awkward; she could

  not use the same language as him.

  Harris gave a warm smile, his unshaven face

  seemed to draw her even closer. Her innocence was

  intriguing to him.

  “I didn’t fuck you, but you felt the deep pulse of

  pleasure, is that what you mean?” he asked with his

  brows raised.

  Branwen laughed and covered her face with her

  hands. She looked to Harris; her captivating smile

  remained. “I struggle to be so crude.”

  “I’m Xencliff,” replied Harris, “it’s all we know,”

  he said as he laughed. A moment of clarity seemed to

  hit him as he looked to her perfect face, her skin was

  bright and warm, her touch was inviting, but one thing

  that he could not resist was her warm and enchanting

  smile. “Has anyone ever mentioned, you have the

  perfect smile?”

  “Never, has anyone ever mentioned your eyes?”

  “Always,” he said with an inviting laugh. He knew

  she was ready again; this night would be a night she

  would never forget. He kissed her soft skin and

  stroked her supple breasts, again his head began to

  drift down her young body, kissing every inch of skin

  on the way down, her calls of passion were drowned

  out by the merrymaking that night, but her addiction

  to the commander would remain.

  Sat in her secret room, Librye watched the council,

  her eyes remained fixed on the room, she had not

  touched any of the books she had brought with her

  that day. Her hate for them grew. The boring meetings

  were filled with talk of Brenin’s need for an heir. Her

  need to learn was growing. As she immerged for the

  evening from a day spent in the rafters, she dusted

  herself off in the large tower.

  “So, this is where you’ve been hiding,”
said Mord.

  Librye was startled as she turned. “I have spent the

  entire day looking for you,” she moaned as she threw

  her hands up.

  “Apologies, Mord.” Librye held her head low. Her

  innocent eyes did not seem to have the same effect on

  Mord that day, who remained furious with Librye.

  With a sharp tone, Mord replied, “I was worried

  out of my mind.” Librye emerged further from the

  doorway. “Dinner is ready, councillor Kailron wishes

  to dine with you this evening.”

  Librye furrowed her brow and tilted her head.

  “Kailron?”

  Mord leant down towards Librye. “I suggest you

  get yourself washed and ready, a dress which is not

  inhabited by spiders would help as well.” She clearly

  disagreed with Librye’s new habit.

  Librye washed and changed, a pink silk dress took

  her fancy that evening. Small pink slippers fit perfectly

  with her dress. Her hair was tied back as she made her

  way from the mezzanine and waited at the fountain.

  Kailron walked from his chambers towards her.

  “Child, I have been given the task of dining with

  you this evening,” said Kailron in a high tone of joy, “I

  hope it will be a pleasurable experience for us both,”

  he made his way towards the fountain.

  “I’m Librye,” she nodded as he came towards her.

  Kailron shook his head, his tone changed to his

  usual malicious nature, “I know who you are.”

  Librye walked towards him; her shoulders pulled

  back as she did. “That’s strange,” she mockingly said,

  “I have been here for quite some time now, although I

  have spoken to you many times, I am yet to have an

  answer, or conversation from you.”

  Kailron was stricken, he had shunned her several

  times. She was a child; she did not know how to filter

  her feelings. “Well, let us take this as an opportunity

  for us both then.” He guided her towards a small

  dining hall in the lower east wing. The room was

  bland, green walls surrounded a wooden table, enough

  to seat a family of six. He took a place at the head of

  the table. Librye sat directly opposite. The table was

  set with silver dinnerware, a white tablecloth, and

  white plates. The servers felt the atmosphere of dislike

  as they brought their meal in.

  Librye glared towards Kailron, “To say you’ve