Albion: Pumpkin Pie
Title: Albion
Main Story: Cryptomancy
Flavors: Pumpkin Pie #8: a body
Word Count: 1689
Rating: PG
Summary: In which we are introduced to another player.
Notes: Another long one...in which more important stuff happens.
“A rider!” shouted one of the maids, and I ran to join her on the balcony. From there, we had a fairly good view of the road leading up to the Rookery, and sure enough there was a rider approaching. Whoever it was, he was clad head to toe in black, save for a long red sash about his waist, that flapped in the wind behind him like a bloody pennant.
I took the winding stairs down two at a time until I came to the kitchens, where Jenny was supervising a boy just a bit younger than myself making stew. She turned to me and scowled. “You’re like to break your neck, careenin’ down those steps like that,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest.
“There is a rider approaching,” I said.
She threw up her hands. “Seven Hells! Am I to get no bloody relief? I’ll wager this is your fault, yours and Bug’s, now what am I to do about supper? We can’t feed this to any guest, or the Lady’ll have my head.”
“Sorry,” I answered timidly, out of lack of anything else to say.
“Sorry, he says!” The boy glanced up from his work, apparently assuming that this outburst was directed at him. “Back to work, you!” she snapped immediately, and then turned back to me. “Well, best you run down and see what this is about. You had best try and please the Lady, or else we’re not like to see Bug again for a long time, you hear?”
I did as she instructed, tearing off down the corridor until I came to the entry hall. Guards were already lining up on either side. I found Rust scrambling across the foyer, and I ran to him. “What’s going on?” I asked.
He looked surprised at first, as though I had shaken him out of some kind of reverie, but his eyes cleared quickly. “Oh, no one knows,” he replied. “Some bloke riding in from the South. She’s not expecting any visitors.”
“Soldiers, fall in!” shouted one of the copper-armored men whose name I did not know. Rust then pointedly ignored me, and hurried to get into his formation. I was left standing stupidly in the center of the hall as the great double doors were wheeled open and the rider came into view beyond it.
Closer, I could see that the horse he rose was massive, the size of an ox. It likely would have been more at home pulling a plow than carrying a rider, but the man sat it impressively. He was covered entirely in a black riding coat, a black scarf that showed nothing but his eyes, and a wide-brimmed black hat. The red sash that hung from his waist looked to be made of the very wind, it was so thin and soft as to be nearly insubstantial. When he dismounted, I saw that there was a large, rough bundle wrapped in the same black material as his cloak slung over the horse’s back, behind the saddle.
He entered the hall, unwrapping the scarf from his face, and removing his hat. His horse followed behind him, and I absurdly thought only that the animal would track in the dirt and leaves. Suddenly, I remembered how to use my legs and scrambled over to one of the lines of guards, slipping between two of them to be out of the way.
“Where is the regent?” asked the rider, now pulling the black leather gloves from his hands finger by finger in a motion that reminded me strangely of my father.
The same guard who had commanded Rust earlier removed his helmet and stepped forward. “The Lady Bloodrose was not expecting a guest today. Might I inquire as to your business?”
The rider grunted, stuffing the scarf and gloves into the crown of his hat. “I’ll tell it to her, if it’s all the same.”
Metallic clanks sounded faintly through the hall as the soldiers shifted nervously. The commander looked around him, as though in disbelief. “With all due respect, sir, it is not all the same. The Lady is a very busy woman, and she indicated that…”
“With all due respect, sir,” the rider interrupted, holding up a hand. “I do not care if she is busy. She will want to talk to me.”
To his credit, the commander tried again. “I am afraid, sir, that…”
He was interrupted once more, this time by Lady Bloodrose as she appeared at the top of the stairs. “Thank you, Fox,” she said, “but that will be all.”
The tension in the room was palpable as she descended the staircase. She addressed the rider. “Now, please be so kind as to inform me with whom I am speaking.”
“I am called Albion,” he replied, rolling the brim of his hat and tucking it into a pouch hanging from the saddle. “But I think you will be more interested in why I have come.”
No one spoke then until Lady Bloodrose reached the foot of the stairs. Then, she stopped and said, “There you have me. I would like nothing more than to know why that is.”
Albion smirked, almost a smile, but a cold one. He stepped back and untied the large black bundle from the horse’s back and let it drop to the floor. He then took hold of the fabric covering it and pulled, revealing a blue face with eyes closed.
Thorne’s face.
The bird in my stomach came alive then, twisting and clawing, and I fell to my knees, heaving. Thankfully, neither the rider nor the Lady seemed to see or hear me, as they continued their conversation.
“I found him a day’s ride from here,” said Albion coolly. “I thought I would bring him back to you, as a gift.”
“This man is nothing to me,” said Lady Bloodrose, though there was an edge of wicked delight to her voice that belied her words.
“Nothing?” said Albion coolly. “He was running as though all the hounds of Merry-Chase were on his tail. Thought he might have been something to you.”
As I got to my feet again, the Lady was frowning. The bird had not stopped turning, but I tried my hardest to ignore it. “Is that why you have come?” asked Lady Bloodrose. “To gift me an ugly corpse?
“I have come,” said Albion, all amusement suddenly disappearing from his voice, “for the orphan.”
Lady Bloodrose seemed to find this hilarious. She fought not to laugh, though she was unable to banish the ludicrous smile from her face. “Oh? And what makes you think that he is here?”
“I know he is here,” he said, and as he took a step toward the lady, the guards suddenly sprang to life, aiming at least twenty spears directly at his face. He held up his hands with another entertained smirk. “I know he is here,” he continued, “because I was sent here by the Red Lady. Do you think she doesn’t know what happens in her own castle?”
Lady Bloodrose’s spine straightened, and she tilted her head back to look haughtily down her nose at him. “If you are sent by Lady Elspeth then I am even less inclined to give you the boy.”
Albion chuckled lowly. “My Lady is prepared to offer you certain…concessions in exchange for the boy.”
The bird was now becoming more intolerable, but I listened raptly as the two discussed by fate. I clamped my hands over my stomach as though I could stop it moving.
“Concessions?” Lady Bloodrose asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Permanent custodianship of the Yellow Grove.” Albion was clearly not one to waste words.
The Lady scoffed. “Custodianship? How quaint.”
“It’s a kingdom.”
“Merry-Chase is a kingdom. The Yellow Grove is a cottage with a lawn.”
Albion smirked again. “Your cottage with a lawn.”
Lady Bloodrose took a deep breath. “For my sake, please allow me to repeat this offer back to you. I want to be sure that I understand it.” Her anger showed now, a thin line that ran through her voice and showed in the clicking of her nails against each other. “You bring me a corpse and a backwater wasteland, and you ask me to trade you my most prized possession for them?”
“I want the boy, you want to be a queen,” he said simply. “Seems fair enough to me.”
Quickly, the Lady pushed through the ranks of copper armored guards until she was nose to nose with the rider. Or as near as she could be, at any rate. He stood a head taller than her, but her presence was huge. “It is not in my interest, Albion,” she hissed, “to give you this child for a paltry track of land, when with him I have control of all four of the Unchanging Lands.”
Albion did not flinch, and did not even lower his face to look at her, merely cast his eyes down in her direction. “My Lady also instructed me to inform you that it is perhaps unwise of you to consider using her sister as your weapon against her. The White Lady has been known to be rather changeable.”
“As have I!” retorted Lady Bloodrose, now clearly agitated. “This audience is ended.” With that, she turned her back on him and stalked toward the very stairs she had just descended.
“Milady,” called Albion, or rather, he spoke it; his voice was simply so strong that it carried like a shout across the hall. “I am sworn not to leave Merry-Chase without the boy.”
She whirled, fixing him with a fiery glare. “Then by all means, stay,” she said. “Fox, if you would be so kind.”
The commander stepped forward and took Albion by the arm. For the first time since he had arrived, the rider’s face broke into a genuine smile. He made no motion to resist. He bowed his head slightly. “Milady,” he said as Fox escorted him out, presumably to the dungeons. Lady Bloodrose made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a scream, and stormed away, up the stairs.
Bonus picture! LOL Albion will be played by David O'Hara
Main Story: Cryptomancy
Flavors: Pumpkin Pie #8: a body
Word Count: 1689
Rating: PG
Summary: In which we are introduced to another player.
Notes: Another long one...in which more important stuff happens.
“A rider!” shouted one of the maids, and I ran to join her on the balcony. From there, we had a fairly good view of the road leading up to the Rookery, and sure enough there was a rider approaching. Whoever it was, he was clad head to toe in black, save for a long red sash about his waist, that flapped in the wind behind him like a bloody pennant.
I took the winding stairs down two at a time until I came to the kitchens, where Jenny was supervising a boy just a bit younger than myself making stew. She turned to me and scowled. “You’re like to break your neck, careenin’ down those steps like that,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest.
“There is a rider approaching,” I said.
She threw up her hands. “Seven Hells! Am I to get no bloody relief? I’ll wager this is your fault, yours and Bug’s, now what am I to do about supper? We can’t feed this to any guest, or the Lady’ll have my head.”
“Sorry,” I answered timidly, out of lack of anything else to say.
“Sorry, he says!” The boy glanced up from his work, apparently assuming that this outburst was directed at him. “Back to work, you!” she snapped immediately, and then turned back to me. “Well, best you run down and see what this is about. You had best try and please the Lady, or else we’re not like to see Bug again for a long time, you hear?”
I did as she instructed, tearing off down the corridor until I came to the entry hall. Guards were already lining up on either side. I found Rust scrambling across the foyer, and I ran to him. “What’s going on?” I asked.
He looked surprised at first, as though I had shaken him out of some kind of reverie, but his eyes cleared quickly. “Oh, no one knows,” he replied. “Some bloke riding in from the South. She’s not expecting any visitors.”
“Soldiers, fall in!” shouted one of the copper-armored men whose name I did not know. Rust then pointedly ignored me, and hurried to get into his formation. I was left standing stupidly in the center of the hall as the great double doors were wheeled open and the rider came into view beyond it.
Closer, I could see that the horse he rose was massive, the size of an ox. It likely would have been more at home pulling a plow than carrying a rider, but the man sat it impressively. He was covered entirely in a black riding coat, a black scarf that showed nothing but his eyes, and a wide-brimmed black hat. The red sash that hung from his waist looked to be made of the very wind, it was so thin and soft as to be nearly insubstantial. When he dismounted, I saw that there was a large, rough bundle wrapped in the same black material as his cloak slung over the horse’s back, behind the saddle.
He entered the hall, unwrapping the scarf from his face, and removing his hat. His horse followed behind him, and I absurdly thought only that the animal would track in the dirt and leaves. Suddenly, I remembered how to use my legs and scrambled over to one of the lines of guards, slipping between two of them to be out of the way.
“Where is the regent?” asked the rider, now pulling the black leather gloves from his hands finger by finger in a motion that reminded me strangely of my father.
The same guard who had commanded Rust earlier removed his helmet and stepped forward. “The Lady Bloodrose was not expecting a guest today. Might I inquire as to your business?”
The rider grunted, stuffing the scarf and gloves into the crown of his hat. “I’ll tell it to her, if it’s all the same.”
Metallic clanks sounded faintly through the hall as the soldiers shifted nervously. The commander looked around him, as though in disbelief. “With all due respect, sir, it is not all the same. The Lady is a very busy woman, and she indicated that…”
“With all due respect, sir,” the rider interrupted, holding up a hand. “I do not care if she is busy. She will want to talk to me.”
To his credit, the commander tried again. “I am afraid, sir, that…”
He was interrupted once more, this time by Lady Bloodrose as she appeared at the top of the stairs. “Thank you, Fox,” she said, “but that will be all.”
The tension in the room was palpable as she descended the staircase. She addressed the rider. “Now, please be so kind as to inform me with whom I am speaking.”
“I am called Albion,” he replied, rolling the brim of his hat and tucking it into a pouch hanging from the saddle. “But I think you will be more interested in why I have come.”
No one spoke then until Lady Bloodrose reached the foot of the stairs. Then, she stopped and said, “There you have me. I would like nothing more than to know why that is.”
Albion smirked, almost a smile, but a cold one. He stepped back and untied the large black bundle from the horse’s back and let it drop to the floor. He then took hold of the fabric covering it and pulled, revealing a blue face with eyes closed.
Thorne’s face.
The bird in my stomach came alive then, twisting and clawing, and I fell to my knees, heaving. Thankfully, neither the rider nor the Lady seemed to see or hear me, as they continued their conversation.
“I found him a day’s ride from here,” said Albion coolly. “I thought I would bring him back to you, as a gift.”
“This man is nothing to me,” said Lady Bloodrose, though there was an edge of wicked delight to her voice that belied her words.
“Nothing?” said Albion coolly. “He was running as though all the hounds of Merry-Chase were on his tail. Thought he might have been something to you.”
As I got to my feet again, the Lady was frowning. The bird had not stopped turning, but I tried my hardest to ignore it. “Is that why you have come?” asked Lady Bloodrose. “To gift me an ugly corpse?
“I have come,” said Albion, all amusement suddenly disappearing from his voice, “for the orphan.”
Lady Bloodrose seemed to find this hilarious. She fought not to laugh, though she was unable to banish the ludicrous smile from her face. “Oh? And what makes you think that he is here?”
“I know he is here,” he said, and as he took a step toward the lady, the guards suddenly sprang to life, aiming at least twenty spears directly at his face. He held up his hands with another entertained smirk. “I know he is here,” he continued, “because I was sent here by the Red Lady. Do you think she doesn’t know what happens in her own castle?”
Lady Bloodrose’s spine straightened, and she tilted her head back to look haughtily down her nose at him. “If you are sent by Lady Elspeth then I am even less inclined to give you the boy.”
Albion chuckled lowly. “My Lady is prepared to offer you certain…concessions in exchange for the boy.”
The bird was now becoming more intolerable, but I listened raptly as the two discussed by fate. I clamped my hands over my stomach as though I could stop it moving.
“Concessions?” Lady Bloodrose asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Permanent custodianship of the Yellow Grove.” Albion was clearly not one to waste words.
The Lady scoffed. “Custodianship? How quaint.”
“It’s a kingdom.”
“Merry-Chase is a kingdom. The Yellow Grove is a cottage with a lawn.”
Albion smirked again. “Your cottage with a lawn.”
Lady Bloodrose took a deep breath. “For my sake, please allow me to repeat this offer back to you. I want to be sure that I understand it.” Her anger showed now, a thin line that ran through her voice and showed in the clicking of her nails against each other. “You bring me a corpse and a backwater wasteland, and you ask me to trade you my most prized possession for them?”
“I want the boy, you want to be a queen,” he said simply. “Seems fair enough to me.”
Quickly, the Lady pushed through the ranks of copper armored guards until she was nose to nose with the rider. Or as near as she could be, at any rate. He stood a head taller than her, but her presence was huge. “It is not in my interest, Albion,” she hissed, “to give you this child for a paltry track of land, when with him I have control of all four of the Unchanging Lands.”
Albion did not flinch, and did not even lower his face to look at her, merely cast his eyes down in her direction. “My Lady also instructed me to inform you that it is perhaps unwise of you to consider using her sister as your weapon against her. The White Lady has been known to be rather changeable.”
“As have I!” retorted Lady Bloodrose, now clearly agitated. “This audience is ended.” With that, she turned her back on him and stalked toward the very stairs she had just descended.
“Milady,” called Albion, or rather, he spoke it; his voice was simply so strong that it carried like a shout across the hall. “I am sworn not to leave Merry-Chase without the boy.”
She whirled, fixing him with a fiery glare. “Then by all means, stay,” she said. “Fox, if you would be so kind.”
The commander stepped forward and took Albion by the arm. For the first time since he had arrived, the rider’s face broke into a genuine smile. He made no motion to resist. He bowed his head slightly. “Milady,” he said as Fox escorted him out, presumably to the dungeons. Lady Bloodrose made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a scream, and stormed away, up the stairs.
Bonus picture! LOL Albion will be played by David O'Hara