renovations, I revealed the plans to Librye this
morning.” He lifted his head from the papers. “She
hasn’t stopped talking about it since,” he seemed
exhausted by Librye’s excessive talking, her excitement
had clearly taken its toll on Brenin.
Harris was curious to know why Librye would be
so excited about the east tower, she had many hidden
secrets and Harris was about to find one of her easier
ones.
Stepping through the door of the east tower, Harris
followed Librye into the giant space, the stairs spiralled
to the top of the tower, the space below would be used
for nothing but show. Harris and Librye made their
way up the winding stairs to the very top of the tower.
The vast room was an awe-inspiring display of
grandeur. A small wall separated the large round
room. Harris wandered to the back, already he could
see that work would need to be done, but he had a
vision in his mind.
“I can have my room here,” he walked to the back
of the round tower, “this can be split off; I can have a
desk by the window.” He walked back to the other
side of the small separating room. “Build this to the
ceiling.” He turned to Librye who stood by the wall to
her hidden secret. “I like my privacy,” he smiled, “a
few maps on the wall here,” he pointed to a wall which
was yet to be built. Harris turned, he held his arms
out, pleased with the vast space. “The rest is all yours.”
“I only want one wall,” said Librye. His brows
furled as he watched Librye turn towards the wall.
Harris stepped towards her. He inspected the
seemingly ordinary wall. “You clever little sod!” He
felt around the wall, feeling the same crease that
Librye had. Harris crouched. His voice was quiet as
he asked, “How long?”
Harris soon realised that the small child was just as
crafty as he was. “Quite some time.” She was
impressed that Harris had found the room. “Would
you like to see?” she asked with a twisted smile. Harris
intuitively knew that Librye trusted him, a secret like
this would be shown to no one. A childlike excitement
caught Harris as he removed his swords and left them
at the side. Following Librye into the winding
corridors, he struggled to get through, soon enough he
sat in the rafters above the council halls.
Harris whispered to her, “You’ve spent a lot of
time up here, haven’t you?” He looked to the books
she had left in the rafters. The years of dirt seemed
absent in the area where they sat.
“Every day,” whispered Librye, “it gets so boring
though, the council seem obsessed with Brenin finding
a wife, but they also seem obsessed with you.”
Harris came forward and glared into the hall,
trying to listen. “Why are they obsessed with me?”
before she could reply, he sat straight, “mind you
many people are.”
“Careful, Harris,” warned Librye, “your ego is
showing,” she mocked.
Harris laughed. He leant in closer to listen to the
council. Upon the table in the centre of the room was
a parchment. “Can you remember any of what they’ve
said?” he asked, still whispering.
“They said that you’re dangerous,” she looked to
the many daggers on Harris’s straps and belt, “they
said you’re too self-destructive.”
Harris raised his brows. “Now, that is quite true,
but people keep calling me dangerous,” he said with a
tone of confusion, “I’m not dangerous.”
“Have those daggers ever killed anyone?”
“Of course they have!”
“Then you’re dangerous.” Librye’s unchanged
look seemingly confused Harris. “They don’t like you,
Harris, because you represent change, change isn’t
what the council want right now, if the war ends, then
so do their added wages.”
Harris sat and thought, he could hear every word
being said at council, from the floods in the north, to
the waking of the world in the east. He was not
concerned for the council, but as he watched Librye’s
obsession, he was concerned for her. He needed to
see the parchment, he needed to know what the
prophecy was.
“Come on, we need to get back,” he insisted as he
began to crawl back. Librye followed.
As he wandered through the large round tower, his
footsteps on the wooden floorboards echoed. Librye
watched him. The strange man who had walked into
her life seemed to hold power, she hung on his every
word.
“What was the palace like where you grew up?”
Harris looked out of a window, overlooking the
Cronnin city. “It wasn’t like this one,” his memory of
the kingdom of Xencliff was clearly etched in his
mind. “I remember waking each morning to the call of
sea birds, the smell of fresh ocean fish and thick skins,
covering the bed. The palace of Xencliff was different
to this one, it’s caves, all carved into the cliffs.” He
took a long sigh. Librye walked towards him. “I’ll
never forget the feeling of the fresh sea air.” He
looked down towards the city, a breeze through the
trees looked as though they were dancing on the
Cronnin streets. “I used to hate it, but now…”
“Do you miss it?” she asked as she stood beside
him.
Harris looked to her; a reminiscent smile grew.
“Some of it, I do miss. But some of it will be the
reason I’ll never return.”
“You will one day,” she also looked from the
window.
Harris looked down towards her. “What makes
you think that?” he asked with a high tone.
“I’ve already told you, my secrets.” Harris
furrowed his brow. “I could tell you a secret, but you
must promise not to tell Brenin.” Harris crouched
beside her to listen. “One day soon, the council will be
settled, his wife will soon arrive in Cronnin, my secrets
told me.” Her smile grew, as did Harris’s.
“Do you know her name?”
Librye shook her head, her eyes showed the child
she truly was. “They didn’t tell me that part.”
Harris laughed as he stood. “Stay innocent,
Librye,” he turned in the room, “the world needs
more innocence,” he softly muttered.
“What happened, in Xencliff?”
Her question seemed to freeze Harris. He could
feel a cold pressure in his chest. “There were a few
people there who always insisted on making sure we
knew our place, we were cared for, but certain lords
and ladies, they did not care for children who did not
have royal blood living in a palace,” he turned to
Librye, wondering how this small child could make
him admit his innermost feelings, he would usually
hide them from the world, his secrets were his second
armour.
“Waron and I, we got on well, but certain
members of the palace, I would not be upset to see
their pyre lit.”
Harris did not know what to make of Librye, her
eyes were strange to him. She had old eyes, a
thousand years of knowledge were imbedded in her
knowing eyes, but she was just an innocent child. He
did not want her to lose her innocence. He had been
in the same place as her once. Taken from his home,
to grow in a palace, where life was too busy for
children, he had been forced to grow up fast, he did
not want the same for her.
It was odd for Harris, he had never seen himself as
a person who worked well with children, his life had
seen him from tavern to battle ground, the only
children he came across were the ones who were
victims of the Atlanti. He had a soft spot for children,
he missed his innocence, his childhood was filled with
regret, it had made him a man who always aimed to
please. He did not want the same for Librye.
“Do you think he’s in Cronnin yet?” asked
Branwen as she sat at Anna’s desk.
Anna undressed her soiled armour; the dried
blood had seeped through onto her undergarments.
“Come on, Branwen,” replied Anna with a sigh, “have
you not received your papers yet?”
Branwen shook her head slowly. “They were
supposed to arrive today, but I’ve heard nothing, they
could’ve been taken by one of the Atlanti falcons, but
you would expect my mother to send her guards to
collect me,” she looked up to Anna, “do you think
he’s arrived yet?”
Anna slumped down in the chair at her desk. The
odd few papers Harris had left reminded her of a less
stressful time.
“I believe he would be there by now, then again
this is Harris,” she said with a cynical tone. Branwen
looked up, her begging eyes stared into hers. “Harris is
who he is, Branwen,” Anna shrugged her shoulders,
“no one can change him, trying will just get you hurt.”
Branwen pressed her lips tightly together as she
looked down at the desk in front. The warm air
brought a misted sweat to her brow. “I just wish it was
real,” she softly said.
“Oh! it was all real,” said Anna, her tone of surety
brought a slight hope to Branwen, “it was real with
you, with me, with the hundreds of others too, but this
is Harris.” She sat forward and enforced. “The
commander will never be tamed, he isn’t self-
destructive in a sense of battle, he will do the stupidest
thing possible, to protect himself from happiness.”
It did not make much sense to Branwen. “How?”
Anna looked into her eyes, she sat back as she
explained, “Whoever he loves, ends up dead.”
Branwen furrowed her brow, her mouth was gaping as
she sat back. “At least that’s what he believes, by
hurting you, getting you to hate him, he is protecting
you.”
Branwen thought for a moment. “What did he do
to you?”
Anna reclined in the chair, she looked around the
room as her eyes narrowed. “He fucked my best
friend, I fell for him, and I made the mistake of telling
him that, he told me, ‘everyone who loves him, and
everyone who he loves, ends up dead,’ he told me to
‘run, get out while I still could,’ I was completely loyal
to him, so, he met my best friend, and saw it as a
chance to make me hate him.”
“And do you?” asked Branwen, “Do you hate
him?”
Anna looked to Branwen, she fiddled with a piece
of paper on the desk. “That’s the worst part, I don’t,”
she gave a tight smile, “it proves his theory wrong, I
still love him, even after what he did, but I’m still
alive.” She held her arms out and sat forward, “if I can
give you any advice, get out while you still can, I know
you love him, Branwen, but he will hurt you,
especially you, he knows that you could never be
together, you’re royal fey, and he is just a commoner,
it would be safer for the both of you to just run.”
Branwen did not want to run, she was not afraid
anymore, her mother posed no threat to her, the
council of Cronnin and Sonnin held no power over
what she was feeling. The worst punishment known
was nothing compared to life without Harris. Her
obsession had worsened, as the hot days dragged by,
she awaited her guards, every stone, every brick in the
haunting Castle Marrion reminded her of him. His
taste, his touch, the feel of his skin, the feel of his
everything, she was addicted to him.
Chapter Twelve Rise and Fall.
bright light sprawled across the grey room
where Harris slept. His bed felt warm, but it
A was cold and lonely. He was used to being
alone, but he no longer wanted it. She had possessed
every part of his thoughts, Branwen was the face he
saw each night before he slept and each morning as he
woke. The flowing satin curtains reminded him of her
soft flowing hair. The freshness of the air outside
drifted in through his window, Marrion was never as
cool and fresh, his senses were against him, even the
lavender soap reminded him of her.
Brenin’s office was filled with smoke from his pipe
as Harris made his way in, he dragged his feet as he
wandered sleepy headed towards the desk.
“Morning, Librye,” he called to her.
“Good morning, Harris,” said Librye as she sat
above the stairs with a book in hand. It was something
he was slowly getting used to seeing. The sounds of
hammering and banging in the east tower echoed
through the halls.
Harris looked around the room. “Has Brenin even
ventured in here yet?”
Librye momentarily lifted her head from the book
she was reading. “The council called for him early,
Harelda plans to return to Sonnin within the next few
days.” Her eyes drifted back to the book.
“So soon?” asked Harris. Stood at Brenin’s desk,
he began to read some of the letters and notes left
there from the early morning carriers. “I thought she
would at least see the end of the turn here; the festivals
start soon.” He began sorting through the papers,
seeing what he may need for his day’s work.
Librye sat straight as she sniggered, “Harelda
doesn’t care for, as she put it, ‘such barbaric displays
of drunkenness.’”
Harris glanced back. “I love barbaric displays of
drunkenness.” Harris was looking forward to the
festivals, as he always did. “And as High Chief
Commander, I feel it necessary to partake in these
displays.”
Librye looked towards Harris, holding the book
down she laughed, “You would, you’re The
Commander, not only high chief, but Harris
Bearwood, famous throughout the taverns,” she wa
ved
her head.
“Oi!” he called with a playful warning, “you
shouldn’t know about any of that!” Harris
disapproved, “you’re far too young.” He kept reading
the letters on Brenin’s desk.
“Besides, she hasn’t got to the books of the
shadow yet,” said Harelda as she stood by the door.
Her hands were elegantly placed to her front, she
stood in a bright satin cream fey dress, the fabric sat
perfectly on her frame, the seams were a golden
pattern which drifted down her slender frame.
Harris turned, shocked. He pointed some papers
towards her with his mouth gaping. “How did you do
that?”
Harelda smiled towards him, her everlasting grace
seemed to only grow as she drifted towards him. “Do
what?” she whimsically asked.
“How did you get there, without me hearing?” he
staggered his words.
Harelda made her way towards him. “You’re
gifted,” her powerful voice seemed to calm him.
“In more ways than one, but still,” commented
Harris.
“I am fey, one of the highest, even your merrow
hearing is no match for the fey.”
Harris replied with a low grumble, “Your daughter
was good at that as well,” he saw her brows raise, “she
is well, she said, ‘she hopes to return to Sonnin soon.’”
He gave a warm smile to Harelda.
Making her way to Brenin’s desk, she sat in
Brenin’s chair. Harris sat opposite. “Well, finally,” she
sighed, “The Commander.” Her awe was clear, Harris
did not know where the conversation would lead. “So,
tell me of your plans for Cronnin?”
He sat back. She was forward with Harris; she did
not have time to play games. “I have many plans, my
queen. Firstly, sort out the shit storm in Belgravia,
Tosta and Roe, following that I plan to sort out the
rest that are slowly hitting, meaning we can push our
powers towards the west.” He knew how his plans
would work, but he did not know how his plan would
sit with the council, or Harelda for that matter.
Harelda softened her eyes, she looked to the
papers on Brenin’s desk, she was used to a more
organised way of life, the mess only confused her
mind.
“I admit I’m impressed with your work so far;
however, you are yet to prove yourself capable of such
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