An Audience

[Merrewyn]

The door creaked open an inch or two, just far enough for fingers and a nose to emerge. Merrewyn tensed in her chair, still as cold marble. "Yes?"

There was hesitation, a shuffling of sheepskin slippers on flagstone as the person on the other side of the door worked up the courage to answer her. "My lady, the delegation from the High Cathedral have arrived...m...they demand an audience."

Merrewyn lifted her head from the overstuffed brocade of the head rest and turned her face towards the door. The white silk bandages covered the wreckage of her eyes and brow, making her presumed gaze only felt rather than seen. "I refused their audience weeks ago. It is too dangerous to be traveling; they are fools to have come this far north, straight into the teeth of the plague." And I have nothing to say to them, she added silently.

The servant's linen cap and hair created a faint rasping sound against the door frame as she nodded. "I...I know, my lady. They have arrived with a large escort, and seem hale enough. The Patriarch is here with several bishops...m..." The girl shuffled her feet again, clearly conflicted. "My lady, I was commanded to not return belowstairs without word from you, what shall I say?"

Merrewyn's temper flared brightly a moment, but overriding apathy took it away within a heartbeat. "He presumes to order my people around under my own roof?" She sighed and carefully put her cheek on the cool wing of the chair. "I suppose if he has traveled this far and risked this much, I may grant him a brief interview. Send Ferra up to help me dress."

A candlemark later she sat in her audience room clad in white damask, samite and albino vair, glittering with a city's ransom in seed pearls, diamonds and cut crystals encrusting her bodice, partlet and skirt panels of her gown. Nearby sat a scribe with a small portable desk, sharpening a quill. Her herald announced the entrance of the ecclesiastical envoy quietly out of deference to the lady's injured and therefore sensitive hearing. The Patriarch paused and gave him a strange look before entering, causing the rest of his retinue to hesitate awkwardly lest they break protocol and step out ahead of him. The herald stared at the wall directly across from him, yet bowed low and courteously enough as they eventually passed.

Merrewyn rose and sank into a very deep and very correct curtsy, head bowed chin to bodice. She heard the bishops and their attendants array themselves into a semi-circle before her, one clearing their throat nervously as another stifled a cough and swallowed loudly. She remained motionless, waiting for her leave to rise. The muscles in her back and legs were screaming in protest.

The Patriarch, a venerable man who looked every bit the part clad in full formal robes of heavily embroidered damask, cloth of silver and gold, and painted silk, made the Circle of Light in the air and gestured for her to rise, holding out his signet to be kissed in much-practiced familiarity. When she made no move to do either, he gave her a double-take before recovering. "Er...make your obeisance and be seated, my child," he said in his effluvious and deep voice." He dropped his hand into hers as she reached out in front of herself and brushed a kiss over the emerald the size of a pigeon's egg. He took his seat and gestured again so that the others may sit as well. A servant appeared out of nowhere and took Merrewyn's elbow, guiding her gently back to her chair. She nodded her thanks and murmured for refreshments to be made ready.

As the boy hurriedly departed, she turned her head just enough to seem to be regarding the Patriarch directly. "You honor this humble home with your presence, my father. To what do I owe this good fortune?"
[/I][I]

[Tsukasa]

Stealing an apple in the market? possible loss of hand. Assaulting another person? possible prison time. Falsely impersonating a member of the clergy?... We'll just have to figure that one out. Tsukasa walked slowly just behind the patriarch as the announcement was made. With his head tilted to the left, and eyes focused on the floor below him, Tsu walked with the patriarchs scepter. A thick rod made purely of gold; the entire length of the scepter was greatly riddled with Emeralds and rubies. But the top was the attraction. Upon the very top of this scepter sat a borderline ridiculously sized diamond that shown lightly with the candle light.

As the semi circle was made, Tsu stood behind one of the bishops to the right of the Patriarch. "Stay behind me, child" He remembered being told before hand. Tsu was never really one to care for others orders, but it wasn't worth killing his cover.

Tsukasa glanced up for a moment, and caught a glimpse of the lady they were there to see. She had beauty and elegance, these traits were shown when she lowered herself to a bow. As this awkward silence came, Tsukasa looked from left to right. Everyone was either bowing, or standing painfully still. A slight grin crept into His face as a very loud sneeze came out to obliterate the silence. Tsukasa quickly glanced back down at the floor in an attempt to subdue the cutting glares he was getting.

After the small moment of making out with an emerald, the patriarch motioned everyone to sit. Tsu took a few steps over to the wall, finding an old almost antique looking chair. As he turned around to sit in it, he ended up facing one of the bishops. There was a moment of awkward silence, but the sound of a back hand killed the moment. "Respect your elders." Tsukasa took a step over to the side where his face was pushed so the bishop could pass and sit. When the bishop looked back at him, Tsukasa wore a sarcastic half smile.

Tsu corrected his stance and looked back at the ground as the formalities took place between the lady of the house and the patriarch.

[Merrewyn]

The tension in the chamber was fit to be cut with knives. Merrewyn made no motion in her chair, waiting patiently with fingers kept still upon the arm-rests. She tried opening her eyes to at least try and see something through the bandages, but the skin of her eyelids cracked dangerously and she gave up, keeping them closed and resuming her intent listening.

After a moment of silence, she heard a shift in the seat across from her, and the Patriarch's voice filled the room again. His voice was trained to carry across crowds and cathedrals the size of small villages, and so it bounced off the stone and plaster, making her wince inwardly. "I am heartened to see you recovering so well, given the stories told in the City of your battles with the..." He paused, obviously struggling to find a suitably polite turn of phrase.

"...the walking dead," she finished for him. "Your Grace is kind to show concern for a member of his flock."

"Er...yes," he agreed, lacing his fingers together. "But there are other rumors as well, that I would discuss with you." He snapped his fingers and a bishop moved forward, laying a piece of parchment across his outstretched palm. He cleared his throat and scanned the document at arm's length quickly before drawing breath to continue. "My sources tell me that this plague appears to have originated in your holdings. What say you?"

Merrewyn's chin dipped momentarily as she formulated a reply. "I say that my lands were invaded, and whomever did so brought this plague with him, using the results of the same as his personal army. His aim was obviously to destroy all in this army's path, and they did so admirably. I have no enemies capable of this sort of investment of materiale, and given his method of invasion, his aim appears not to take land, but to build his army as the invasion progresses." She blew out a sigh, sinking imperceptibly back into the cushioned depths of her chair. "I do not feel that this was aimed at me in specific."

Another cleric gestured for leave to speak. "You say 'he' and 'him' as if you are aware of the person who brought this pestilence. You must be aware of who this is."

She shook her head slowly, carefully. "I am not. I use 'he' merely as a word of reference."

"So this could be more than one person," he persisted. For all we know 'he' could be a cabal working together."

"That could be," she agreed readily. "But not knowing from whence it came, or indeed the entire nature of this plague and the walking dead it produces, I am constrained to speculation just as much as you."

There was a moment of uncomfortable shifting, which passed at the Patriarch's impatient gesture for silence. Staring intently at the list in his hand, he chose another point and glanced up at Merrewyn with a vaguely accusatory look. "Our sources also state that perhaps it was you who began this plague, in an attempt to oust a rival."

She gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Frightened people will think of anything to give a face and name to their troubles, my father. Surely you, as a leader of men, would be familiar with that phenomenon?"

The Patriarch gave a sharp intake of breath and narrowed his eyes at her, as if he could see through the bandages that concealed hers. "I find it rather curious that is your lands that were afflicted first, and are now the first to be cleansed. Do you not have sympathy for those who now suffer for this folly, those completely innocent of your machinations? If your powers are so great, why has this spread out of control?"

Merrewyn was silent for a long moment, choosing her words carefully while controlling the surge of rage that washed over her. "This plague is no doing of mine," she said simply, in tones of finality. "The reason I have not rode to the rescue to save the rest of the world is because, despite your 'sources' ' information, my talents and energies are not limitless. Nor do I understand exactly how it works, therefore I know not how to heal, suppress, or eradicate the disease." She gave a slight gesture to her face before letting her hand drop. "It was all I could do to save my own people, to give them a chance to survive the winter, never mind what may resurface come spring. I am not necessarily convinced that, once the land warms again, that this will not return here, like the summer plagues of the cities."

"This is not a summer plague," he snapped, leaning forward in his seat. "It is a product of evil done for evil's sake. How do you blithely sit before me and pass it off as a simple fever that may take the old and frail, but pass with the season?"

There was another long silence. "I have seen with my own eyes what this plague can do," she said too quietly. "What it has done. And will do again. It sorrows me that I cannot do more. When I regain my strength, I pledge my service to the realm until this scourge has left us, but until that time, I must focus what resources I have left to my recovery and that of my people. As their Lady, honor binds me to do nothing less." She rose with some effort and gave another very correct curtsy, making it obvious that despite his rank, she was drawing the audience to a close.

As she and her retinue turned to leave the chamber, the Patriarch snapped his fingers. Armed guards wearing his livery appeared from the doorways and surrounded her even as she turned back to him, realizing too late what he had done. "How...dare...you..."

A clerk stood with another large piece of parchment, the ribbons and enormous seals of the Patriarchal Bull dangling as he unfolded it. "Merrewyn ferch Bastian, you hereby stand in the eyes of the Light accused of malediction in connection with this plague that has brought the walking dead and its attendant destruction to this realm..."

"...this is MY lands you are on..."

"...because the Light is not without mercy, there will be a period of enforced observation, at which time you will be attended at all times with clergy appointed by the Most Holy Patriarch, until such a time as either your guilt or innocence is proven."

"You have no idea what you are even looking for..."

"A seneschal will be appointed to oversee the rebuilding of your holdings, however all incomes until further notice are forfeit to the Church. Furthermore, you will be subject to searches and interrogations at the Patriarch's discretion, and will be confined to your manor and under constant supervision. Any attempts at escape or overt acts of violence will be proof of your guilt, at which time you will be brought before an ecclesiastical tribunal for judgment."

"The only reason you DARE this is because I am temporarily weakened..."

The Patriarch rose and stared at her dispassionately, observing with a measure of distaste the now bloodied silk around her eyes as three men grabbed her while the rest held her own guards at bay at swordpoint. "That sounds like the utterances of the guilty, my child."

[Tsukasa]

Politics. Things of a political nature can get out of hand faster than one can say "not guilty". And judging by the tension exuded by the clergy, and by the other party, this could end in a rather bloody situation quicker than the usual heated discussion.

Tsukasa stood with his usual expression as the head bishop began began what seemed to be nothing more than an information sharing session. But as statements were made, and swords were pointed at one anothers honor, the heat in the argument became something more like an inferno.

They spoke of undead, the effect of them, and their origins. Someone was bound to act stupid sometime very soon.

Tsu for the most part was haphazardly paying attention, until they began accusing the lady of being the protagonist to this entire event. To which she replied with logic, logic that made sense. Who'd have thought people use correct logic when in an argument?

Despite the logic of the lady of the house, the clergy decided to turn everything to a giant shit pie when they had their men surround her, and began dictating from a scroll they seemed to pull out of nowhere. This really wasn't an ideal situation for those attempting to stop an evil plague from savagely obliterating your country.

Tsukasa went from a slightly hunched over position to that of an up right school teacher. He placed the cross in his hands to his left, and trotted over to the small crowd of ever so inviting people. He came to the space in between the head bishop and the circled lady and began to speak ever so calmly.

"If i may speak sire." He stopped for a moment, but not enough time for the bishop to speak.

"It's become drastically apparent to all of us that this situation with the walking dead has became a very large problem." It also became very apparent that Tsu was not a simple alter boy.

"Regardless of who or what started this mass, it seems that you do not have the means of solving this disturbing problem at the moment." He stopped and glared at the priest who smacked him before.

"Everyone here knows very well that you cannot do this in time to save our beloved cities on our own. And the next most powerful being that has any decent relations with us is the very lady you're current attempting to encircle in your snare." He turned to the lady for just a moment, before turning back to the bishops with his hands in his pockets.

"So here's my proposition. Instead of doing what you're doing right now, you release the lady. allow her enough time to heal, and begin to study for an antidote, or a solution to this delima. And by this time, you'll already have some propositions of your own for remedying this predicament." He stopped for just a moment.

He took a small step forward to capture the head bishops attention. "Think about it. The church will be herald for it's actions, relations with foreign nations will be mended, and most of all you will be known far and wide as the man who cured the dreaded curse of death."

Tsukasa took a step back, and placed his right hand on his hip, and spoke with reverence.

"What say you?"

[Merrewyn]

Merrewyn was jerked to a halt and spun around abruptly, making her ankle turn and her left shoe to fall off. Biting back a curse, she let the pain sink in as another, unrecognized voice joined in and somehow managed to hold sway over the recently erupted chaos. She listened as intently as the others there, thoroughly confused as to who this person was, though she wasn't enough of a fool to spurn his attempt at rescue, however that may work out.

So was the Patriarch. Obviously not used to his authority being undermined, he stood and listened nonetheless. After a moment of complete silence, he called the other clerics close, and a hastily convened conference ensued. As they drifted to a far corner to discuss things, the guards began to shift restively, glaring across blades at one another.

Merrewyn felt the grips on both of her arms relax and jerked herself free, though she held her hands up to show that she did not plan on moving anytime soon. She patted the now sodden bandages around her face, assessing the damage. Her brow and eyelids had cracked open and were bleeding freely, creating sticky trails that the silk was becoming less and less capable of staunching.

A solicitous hand touched her elbow, and she froze in place, waiting. She smelled rosewater and rosemary upon him, and heard heavy velvet move as the hand moved from her forearm to her forehead, his palm lightly exploring. "These are grievous wounds indeed," he murmured. "If I may...?"

She felt the gathering of power and tensed, but nodded. A moment later the bandages lifted from her eyes, causing her to flinch back with the unexpected flooding of daylight and perceived intimacy. He shushed her as if calming a child and returned to his ministrations, completely undisturbed by the ruin of her face. "You must have indeed used up all of your strength if this is the result," he continued. She could hear the small smile in his voice. "I remember you from court, at the coronation of the Emperor. I'm sure you don't remember me, but you were...striking."

There was crashing silence in the room now, and her erstwhile healer turned to see what had transpired in the last few moments. Most were staring in horror at Merrewyn's visible wounds, a few tracing the Circle over their hearts as if fending off the evil long gone. The Patriarch stood rock-still as well, finally clearing his throat after a long moment of studying the healer and his new charge. "What did this to you, Lady?"

Merrewyn sighed. "This is what happens when raw power is channeled through a vessel for too long. Even I can only take so much without the attending consequences."

His eyes darted from her eyes to the side of her head, where the now closing streaks ran well past her hairline. "Those are claw marks."

"They are indeed," the healer said with a gesture of respect to his superior. "Clearly, her victory was hard-won."

Flashes of memory surged through her mind and behind her eyes. The swarms of monsters, some of whom she had helped bring into this world, her close friends, neighbors, her charges all...all dead, most of them by her own hand. She shoved them away and said nothing.

Another long silence lingered, causing the more nervous ones to begin fidgeting again. Finally the Patriarch unrolled the bull and scanned it over, ignoring the others. After another moment he sighed heavily while he rolled it up once more. "You will help us to rid the country of this plague." It was a statement, not a question.

"I never said otherwise," Merrewyn returned with not a little irony and fatigue in her voice.

He shot a look at the person who had managed to change the entire situation in a matter of seconds with deep suspicion. "I will have healers attend you, so that your recovery will be swifter. You will still be answerable to me and my chosen representatives. I will have a solution before spring's equinox."

"Done", she said readily. "But my lands and incomes remain my own."

He gestured for the guards to stand down. "For now", he agreed. As he turned to leave the chamber his retinue formed up behind him. "But you will be watched, Merrewyn ferch Bastian".

[Tsukasa]

As the awkward silence between the two parties remained, Tsukasa stood with a rather casual smile on his face. He already knew what was going to happen, so there was really no use worrying about it. Tsukasa's attention awayed for a moment by the shine of a torch light in the reflection of a jewel hanging around the neck of one of the middle aged men holding up crosses. He tilted his head for a moment as he stared, but quickly turned the rest of his body towards the man and stepping towards him. When he came rather close to the man, he bent over slightly, dropping his head down, taking a closer look at the jewel. He was captivated by it for another moment, the man standing before him beginning to go into a rather nervous sweat. But after another few moments of this, he suddenly turned back towards the center of the room where he once was. He took a few strides with his hands behind his back, but stopped short to look at the lady of the house. She was standing with a man who seemed rather interested in her. Though Tsu took this moment to wallow in the idea that she'd taken a rather brutal beating, wondering if everyone else realizes just how fucked they all might end up being.

This long winded silence suddenly came to a screeching halt when the patriarch rolled his scroll back up, and began his attempt at dictating the situation. However, this caught Tsu at a loss for words. He actually agreed with him? This turned to be slightly backwards from what he'd been planing. A slight sign of great confusion crept its way onto Tsukasas face, but it quickly faded back to a rather ordinary smile. How exciting it is to have things change.

Tsu watched as they spoke back and forth, much like that of a sudden debate over family inheritance. But quickly, the words of cutting magnitude came to a halt, and an agreement was found. With the last few words said, the patriarch took his leave, and with him went the guards, as well as most of his followers. Several clerical healers stayed behind in order to carry out the order of hospitalizing the lady of the house.

Tsukasas' hands slowly slid into his pockets, as he based his wight back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, as if to be doing a small dance. After a short moment of this, Tsukasa turned to Merrewyn, tilted his head to the right slightly and spoke with a small smile.

"Burning a rose isn't really worth doing unless you're cooking."

[Merrewyn]

Merrewyn eyed the bulk of the Patriarch's retinue as they made their choreographed departure from the chamber, though she had to close her eyes again after a moment while she willed the room to stop spinning. When she opened them cautiously again, her erstwhile rescuer was before her, his grin eliciting a tired smile of her own. "Will I find you in my kitchens next, then?" She was almost looking forward to his response when insistent hands guided her back to her chair, gently urging her to sit. She sank back down gratefully, suddenly aware of just how drained the entire encounter had made her.

A second chair appeared next to hers, and the elderly healer settled in beside her, still assessing her wounds. She tolerated his ministrations for the time being, for now too weary to protest. He gave a subtle cough and she turned her head to regard him with eyes half-lidded. "What is it you would ask of me?"

His feet shuffled beneath his robes, for all the world looking for a brief moment like a restive schoolboy. "Er...well, perhaps it is not my place to ask."

Merrewyn gave the younger man in the room another glance to mark his location and turned her eyes back to the healer. "Ask. I will tell you if I can."

He cleared his throat and suddenly became intensely interested in the wounds on her temple and brow. He lifted up a section of her hair not covered by her veil with his fingertips and suppressed a wince. "Do you truly think that your own lands are purged of this plague now?"

She sighed and chose to ignore his reaction to her wounds. "I believe so, yes. I have given it few places to hide. But spring will tell." She lifted her head so as to take herself out of his reach for a moment. "But I alone cannot purge this entire kingdom, and I will not sacrifice myself trying."

His hands were left hanging in thin air awkwardly, and he let them fall into his lap. "Yes...well." He cleared his throat again. "What if you were to locate the one who brought this blight to our country? Does he hold the key to what he has wrought?"

"Perhaps," she murmured, her eyes drawn again to the younger man, her gaze speculative. "I do not have the strength to pursue him just yet." She sighed. "Nor do I even know where he may be."

His gaze followed hers for a moment, his flicker of suspicion not lost on her. Abruptly he leaned forward, speaking in an undertone. "What if someone could locate him for you? And what if your strength was restored to you well before the first thaw?"

Merrewyn paused, a single brow lifting painfully before dropping again with a flickering wince. She opened her mouth to answer him, then thought better of it after a glance about the room. She knew all too well how well sound carried in an audience chamber. Instead she rose unsteadily to her feet, waving off a solicitous offer of help. "I would retire to my apartments now," she said instead in a stronger voice. Her guards surrounded her before the ecclesiastical ones could, their postures daring their counterparts to protest.

She was too tired to care if a brawl broke out, so long as she was in her rooms before it started. As she made her slow way out of the room, she gestured for the healer to follow her. Just as she made it to the doorway, she made her pause coincide with holding onto the door frame for a moment, then turned and beckoned to her mysterious rescuer. "You will attend me as well? There is much to discuss with your master, I think."

[Tsukasa]

Tsukasas head tilted slightly to the left as the lady spoke a reply. This was an interesting gesture of friendly composure from the lady, and it caused Tsukasas smile to widen into a grin. He closed his eyes and held back a chuckle at the ladies sense of humor. He wondered for a moment, if she had this humor when she killed, or when she fought the plague that haunted them. Tsu certainly did.

But, as Tsukasa went to make his reply, another man came to her in an attempt to guide, if not drag, her to her throne once more. Tsu's expression never changed, however his stance did. he turned from left to right looking about the room, When he found a large chair to his far right. He strutted towards the chair, his mannerisms expressed a rather calm attitude from him. When he reached the chair, Tsukasa sighed quietly. He sat in it like any other would, before getting a horribly uncomfortable look on his face. He quickly leaned his right elbow on the arm of the chair, placed his left leg over the other arm of the chair, threw his left arm over the back of the chair, and left his head standing on his right palm.

Tsukasa sat listening to the conversation going on between the old fart and the lady of the house. It was rather strange that a healer such as himself would be so intently interested in the matters at hand. Tsukasa stared for a moment, his thoughts quickly drifting from "what would his head look like on a stick" to things more along the lines of food. But his imaginary friends began to throw in their two cents in an attempt to torment him. They fluttered randomly for a moment, before clustering around the lady and the old man. But the butterflies quickly dispersed and disappeared when the lady of the house stood up and spoke of returning to he apartments.

Tsu's interest peeked for just a moment as the guards around her began to have what looked to be a stand off. However, his attention was suddenly snatched by the throat by the lady of the house once more. Tsukasa nodded slightly in reply, simply standing to his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets, and following the lady towards her quarters, walking just in front of the healer.

[Merrewyn]

Her skirts whispered across the tile floor as she made her way through the winding corridors leading back to the private area of the manor. Her pace was steady, but slow, allowing for those looking for such to believe that it was just a stately pace given her estate. In truth, she was so inutterably weary that she could only keep this pace because she could practically count the steps to her room, where she could finally rest.

Even if it were with company. Her guests, including four of her bodyguard and three of the Patriarch's, were moving right along with her, the healer chattering on about inconsequential things in an attempt to bridge the awkward silence their procession held. She made polite, if non-committal, responses while envisioning a hot cup of tea in her hands that would with any luck be waiting for her upon arrival.

Something felt wrong.

Perhaps it was the tension already present within those that attended her, perhaps it was the threat that for all intents and purposes still hung over her head regarding her solving the plague, perhaps it was the odd sensations that popped into her head when she looked at the shadowy figure beside her. Whatever it was, she slowed her pace as they were about to turn the final corner before her apartments, her hand burying itself into her skirts as she sought to grip a bone in the farthingale. "Wait..."

It all happened at once.

She heard steel clearing scabbards, assuming for half a heartbeat that it was her guards, and not the others, who drew blades when she hesitated. A step around the corner later she heard the wood on iron clunk of multiple triggers on crossbows, felt a sharp sting as something brushed her cheek, watched as one of her guards fell gargling in a welter of blood and bolts clattered with random sparks off the floor and walls. The sheer absurdity of it almost failed to register in her pain and exhaustion-befuddled mind.

How she got into the alcove, she didn't know. How she had shoved the person before her into it before following (it happened to be the priest), she would never know. How she didn't notice the bolt firmly buried in her hip was up for discussion as well.

But she did. And how she was going to get out of this alive...she didn't know either.

[Tsukasa]

Tsukasa walked along the hollow corridors of the great hallways with his small group of what almost seemed like comrades. Their pace seemed almost like a drudge knee deep through a bog of some sort. This, in a mild way, irritated Tsu. Not because of the pace itself, but coupled with the blabbering old healer speaking of nonsensical everyday bullshit made it feel as such. With his hands still in his pockets, Tsukasa glanced about the hallway as if it were a museum. Everything seemed to catch his attention, until he passed by a window. As he walked past the window he stared at his reflection. The strange part in this was that the reflection wasn't staring back. Once past the window, he turned and faced forward, but when he did he found himself looking himself dead in the eye. Walking backwards just next to one of the guards, Tsukasas "mirror image" strolled along with him.

"So." The image spoke casually.

"How about this weather?" Tsukasas smile slowly faded to an apathetic smirk. The healer walking in front of him began speaking of random magic he'd learned via the schools in robani, and the image began chuckling.

"When're you gonna' kill this poor bastard?" Tsukasa simply sighed at these words, but the image chuckled even more.

'Hey, listen." The image began speaking once more, when they heard the sudden words of the lady of the house. Both the image and Tsukasa tilted their heads to the side and watched for a moment, when cross bow arrows suddenly shot out from the corner they were seeking to turn.

"Goddamnit!" The image tantrum for just a second.

"The one time i get to get out... Whoopdy-shit!" The imaginary Tsu disappeared, and Tsu stood just at the end of the corridor. The lady had somehow made it past the first wave of arrows, as did the healer. how either of them got past was a mystery to all of them, but that wasn't the current concern. Tsukasas morbid look quickly changed as a smile crept ever so slyly onto his face. As the second wave was preparing to fire off their arrows, Tsu turned to one of the guards who'd stayed behind and hide from the first wave.

"Want to serve your queen?" He spoke in a very calm and almost malicious tone. Without waiting for the mans reply, Tsu grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around the corner and in the very center of the hallway, his back facing the enemy. Tsukasa quickly dashed behind the largely armored man. The man stood in utter shock, as Tsukasa began channeling energy to the palm of his hand. As he did, the arrows of the second wave shot towards them. The thick armor of the guard blocked most of the arrows, some having stabbed into the armor. By the time they'd finished shooting, Tsukasa had finished charging a very old spell known now as an Aero Spike. Tsu thrust the ball of compressed gales into the gut of the guard, and a spectacle was to be seen. The ball burst as Tsu had thrust it, and savagely threw its compressed gales towards the enemy, carrying a ferociously twirling guard along with it. Tsu slid back a few feet from the ejection, but it left the enemy forces decimated.

Tsukasa stood up straight, and dusted off his robes. He turned and entered the indent in the wall which the lady and the healer and managed to escape to. Tsu sighed slightly as he'd seen the arrow sticking out of her hip. This was a tough chick, she goes from one ass kicking to another pretty quickly. He turned to the healer and spoke very calmly, yet rather sharply.

"Fix that." Tuskasa stood up and leaned up against the wall next to them, waiting to see what might happen.

[Merrewyn]

She hurt. Oh good gods, did she hurt. Staggering into a semi-sitting position at the back of the alcove, she took a wheezing breath and promptly swore never to do it again. Her hand instinctively fumbled around the source of the worst of the pain, and smacking it once and causing the bolt head to wiggle in her flesh taught her to never do that again either. She ground her teeth and hissed profanity in languages she didn't know she remembered while fighting tooth and claw for consciousness.

There were hands on her, trying to turn her, and her first reflexive action was to slap them away. Her wits straggled in for a moment, and she tapped what was left of her resources enough to deaden the pain so that she could attempt rational thought. A few heartbeats later she had things down to a dull roar, and only then did she shift her weight to her uninjured hip and tried looking around.

The fight wasn't done, but seemed to be wrapping itself up nicely. By nicely, that at least meant more of her people were standing than anyone else's. That was fortunate for her - she couldn't summon the wherewithal to light a candle by magic at that point if her soul depended on it. There were corpses strewn across the corridor, some few still in the process of dying so that they could join the number. She had heard some loud noises at some point during the attack that didn't strictly have to do with conventional weaponry, and judging from the frankly terrified look on the priest's face and the utterly insouciant one on the stranger, she had a fair idea of where it had at least come from, if not the actual details.

It didn't matter. Not right now, anyway. Forcing herself not to look, she grabbed the shaft of the crossbow bolt and prayed the head wasn't barbed, and yanked it straight backwards. Breaking the shaft and forcing it through wasn't going to work, particularly if it had hit bone. She didn't want to know. Not yet.

As blind, dumb luck would have it, the head was a wickedly pointed bodkin, with no barbs. She watched the blood drip from it in detached fascination for a moment, then very deliberately placed it on the floor beside her. Blinking up at the guard before her, not truly caring if he were hers or the other contingent's, she managed to force words out of her mouth:

"Make sure at least one is left alive to be questioned."

The guard dragged his eyes away from the carnage down the hall and looked at her (actually her wounded hip, but she wasn't being picky), and nodded while shooting a nervous glance at the one who had bodily shot his comrade down the corridor moments before. "Aye, I think it's already been done."

Her eyes unnaturally wide and glassing over, she answered his nod with one of her own. "Oh, good," she said vaguely.

Now with all of her immediate concerns attended to, her eyes rolled back in her skull and she passed out, her head hitting the corner of the wall on the way down.

[Tsukasa]

Lost in thoughts of irrelevance and abstraction flooded the mind of Tsukasa as he leaned his weight upon the wall behind him. His attention was grabbed, as He turned his head to glance towards the guard who spoke to the lady of the house. The man stood with fear, and his speech emitted the same emotion. What he could be scared of baffled Tsu, leaving him slightly curious.

But as Tsu pushed off the wall to investigate the guard, He heard a rather sudden thump from behind him. Tsu turned and glanced downward, only to find the lady of the house passed out on the floor and the healer sitting in a frightened stance. Tsu's head tilted lightly for a moment, as he took a few steps forward and knelt down to get a closer look. She was out. Tsukasas gaze turned to the healer once more, seeing the man shaking, whilst his teeth chattered.

"See what i mean?" The mirror image walked up next to Tsu and leaned his elbow onto Tsus head.

"Just get rid of the guy. It'd be real quick." When it said this, Tsu brought his hand up and brought it closer to the old man who was in too much of a panic to know what was going on.

"That's it, bring it real close and just end him." The image spoke in a smooth tempting manner, attempting to seduce Tsu. But as He got closer, Tsu brought his hand to the right side of the mans cheek, cocked it back, and smacked him in the face. The healer, in utter shock, turned to Tsukasa in a blank stare. Tsukasa gave an apathetic disdainful expression, as he pointed to the gapping hole in the hip of the lady. With one brief moment of hesitation, he crawled over to the lady and began casting healing in an attempt to closed the wound.

After a few minutes, and a half dazed not-quite-there blank stare, the healer took a deep sigh and leaned back on the wall. "That should do it for now. The hip wound has closed for the most part, but she's so drained that her body's taking longer to regenerate. She needs rest badly." Tsukasa scratched the back of his neck for a moment, as a tired yawn made it's way from his mouth. He stood up, stretched out, and suddenly turned around to face the torch mantle that protruded from the wall. He placed his hat on the floor, gripped the fixture, placed his two feet around it so his ankles locked with one another, and hung himself upside down. The healer looked at him strangely and inquisitively.

"You don't speak much do you?" Tsukasas eyes glanced towards him for a moment, and with a stoic voice, he replied. "The butterflies think you like boys." The healer rised an eye brow and grew wide eyed before turning away and crossing his arms with a "harumph".

The mirror image stood with crossed arms, and spoke as Tsukasa closed his eyes.

"You're an imbecile."

[Merrewyn]

Bishop shifted restively beneath her, scenting long before she could the smell of rotting flesh and that strange, sickly-sweet addition that denoted the undead somewhere ahead. She closed her eyes and felt once more for the reservoirs of energy deep beneath the earth that would aid her soon. The reins were knotted so that she did not need to hold them, instead gripping with her knees and thighs to steady herself as he fidgeted and side-stepped, impatient to begin the slaughter.

Not yet, she soothed while her hand absently kneaded the thick leather pommel of the saddle.

His response was not in words, but she felt his sentiments easily enough. She couldn't blame him; she was anxious to be done with this herself. He tossed his head and rattled the bit in his mouth, but settled after a moment, the muscles in his shoulders and neck twitching in suppressed impatience. The scent was readily evident now that the wind had shifted in their direction, causing her to forcibly exhale in a futile attempt to get the smells from clinging to the back of her throat.

The town lay in the river valley below, still and quiet, though that was a mere ruse. In a matter of moments the sun would sink below the horizon, and with the coming of twilight would the monstrous remains of the populace come out to hunt, feed and produce more of their kind if they could. No cattle lowed in the pens, no dogs barked, no lights emerged from the buildings. When the initial raids had passed days before and all below were either dead or fled, only the undead remained, making the structures left standing a lair of sorts. She knew in buildings and byres, in cellars and garrets, they lay out of the reach of sunlight, waiting for twilight to come.

And she was waiting for them.

For days she had the survivors that were brave or foolhardy enough go to the edges of the forests, clearing brush and deadfall to pile outside the town, completely sealing off the access roads that led in and out of the valley. The far ends of the bridges were similarly prepared, all soaked with coal oil, fish oil, lard, tallow...whatever would burn fast, bright and hot. They were long gone now as well, by her command. As much as many would want to see their revenge unfold, she had forbidden any other humans to linger.

The forest folk, however...some few had chosen to stay. Those who were not afraid of the plague, those who had beaten back the insurgence in their own lands and were forward-thinking enough to understand that in order for it not to return, it must be taken out where it flourished elsewhere...they were there. She sensed them in the woods beyond the reaches of the town, knew they stood watching, waiting for her signal.

She nudged Bishop with her heels and he began picking his way down the slope, his chainmail and plate barding cheerfully chiming incongruously with the massacre that was about to occur. He clopped loudly across the wooden bridge that took them across the river, the wicked spikes on the boots and shoes around his hooves scoring the planks as he passed. Once they were across he broke into a canter, heading straight for the center of town.

Curiously, the water still flowed in the public fountain, completely unaffected by the destruction and death of those who depended on its bounty. Merrewyn pushed the idle thought from her mind and scanned her surroundings, hearing the frenetic scratching of the creatures that so desperately wanted to get to them, but dared not - not yet - risk the burning rays of the last bit of afternoon sunlight. She heard their muffled shrieks and cries within the buildings, creeling for the blood and flesh held tantalizingly out of their reach.

She got a good look around, and smiled coldly while she reached within the earth and tapped those reservoirs of raw energy, feeling it spring eagerly to her hands. She closed her eyes and let it wash over her, suffusing her with an unearthly glow.

Her knees abruptly clamped down, and Bishop shrilled, a piercing, whistling scream that bounced off the buildings and carried to the woods beyond. He pulled himself into a perfect rearing levade and repeated the cry, striking out repeatedly with his front hooves.

Almost literally, all hell broke loose. The temptation too much to bear, several human shapes came scrabbling out of buildings more shadowed than others, hurtling straight for them. Smoke began pouring out of buildings, those containing straw or thatched roofs showing trails of flame first. Smaller fires became visible in the forest and on the rocks of the more sheer valley walls, and soon thereafter some bits of those fires took wing as they traveled on arrows towards the piles of brush surrounding the town.

The creatures that reached her first hit her shields and furiously clawed at the invisible walls, desperate to reach them. Soon more came and clawed at those who came before, tearing them to pieces in their bid to reach living flesh. Still calling fire to other targets, she let them destroy themselves there, falling deeper within herself as she wove power in several places at once, letting Bishop move them when the heat became too intense. Still she conjured and wove tendrils and waves of power until it began to build, not unlike a dam preparing to burst, straining at its confinement. When her eyes slitted open they glowed an inferno-bright red, her breath ragged and shallow as she slowly, slowly brought the palms of her hands closer together, the ball of fire held within spinning faster and faster.

The forest folk saw the shockwave at the same time a pillar of fire shot skyward, illuminating the newborn night just as brightly as noontide. Bows creaked as archers chose targets working their way laboriously over almost vertical slopes to escape the destruction below. Others arrayed themselves along the river banks and drew up massive nets as stragglers fell into the water. Their catch would be brought to the flames as well, but in the meantime the creatures were driven back to the water should they manage to gain enough purchase to attempt crawling out, when they were not destroyed outright by fire arrows and flashing blades.

Bishop began working their way out of the town once the column of flame reached heavenward, his passenger entirely too preoccupied to focus on much else. Occasionally the shields about them would waver, and he struck out viciously with hoof and teeth at anything stupid enough to come close to them. Avoiding falling timbers and collapsing walls while clouds of ash, sparks, embers and waves of heat washed over them, he eventually made his way to the agreed-upon escape route up the rocky slope of the valley, their passage covered by trails of flame that seemed to almost spring from his hooves. Even from their relatively safe vantage point, the heat was almost unbearable, particularly now that the shields were for the most part gone.

The heat was sweeping Merrewyn almost from her saddle, causing her to sway dangerously. She felt herself falling and flailed, panic-stricken that she might tumble into the inferno herself. Her ankles and wrists were somehow unable to move, and she shrieked, slapping a maideservant clean off the bed.

Abruptly dropping out of her fevered dream, her eyes snapped open and she stared about her bedchamber while her mind rapidly tried to understand what exactly had transpired there. The healer priest, caught in a recoil away from her, abruptly shook off his fear and leaned in close once again, attempting to put the cool compress on her brow. "Hush my lady, lest you open your wounds again."

Her wounds. Yes. Merrewyn took a deep breath and waited until the events of the last few hours sorted themselves from the tangled memories disgorged in her dream. "Fever," she stated as a matter of course.

"I'm afraid so," he confirmed quietly as he gave the maidservant a cursory inspection for any real injury. Finding none, the terrified girl backed into a shadowed corner and stayed there. The priest turned back to his primary charge and adjusted the candelabra so that he could see Merrewyn more clearly. "You have slept for some few hours, but you must drink for me. No," he reproved gently as she tried to roll to her back and sit up. "Do not put pressure on that wound, if you please."

Duly chastised, she lay still and took a few sips from the proffered cup held at nose level. She was almost too tired to do even that. "How did I get here?" The memory of the attack suddenly ambushed her and her eyes flared. "Those who attacked me...who were they?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion for a brief moment, but she let it go.

Booted heels sounded across the antechamber and the exceedingly tall and lean form of her captain of the guard emerged from the doorway. From the looks of him, he had not slept in days. "We will know soon, my lady", he said quietly, as if he were trying not to wake a baby. He took his hat off and smacked it off his knee before returning it to his head in what could only be frustration. "For what it's worth, we don't think it was from the Patriarch's retinue."

Merrewyn heard the relieved sigh come from the physician and slid a look in his direction again before returning her gaze to the captain. "Fair enough. Keep me informed."

When he nodded and made his exit, she closed her eyes and gave a sigh of her own. She felt the muddy, detached feeling that meant she had been dosed with poppy milk, and for a brief moment she felt irritation that slid quickly into apathy. She just wanted to sleep. Her eyes scanned her bedchamber, and she let her head drop back down to the pile of pillows as she addressed the priest. "Our guest, who came with you and most obviously is not one of your own," she began, tiredly smirking at his discomfited reaction. "Where is he now?"

[Tsukasa]

"Well ma'am..." the priest stood with a hesitant expression on his face. Coughing in a vague attempt to clear his throat, he continued. "After we got you here, i lost track of him." The priest took a deep took a deep breath and settled himself down, placing himself up right into the closest chair. "For one with such intelligence, he really is rather peculiar." He crossed one leg over the other as if they were having coffee with one another. "I mean, who hangs upside down for no reason? My gracious, there must be something seriously wrong with that boy."

There was a very distinct silence laced with a sense of arrogance after the priest had spoken. But as the priest was about to continue his rant of how strange Tsu was, speak of the devil, Tsukasa rather suddenly opened the door. The priest jumped in his seat for a moment, but tried to remain calm in the face of what could be a particularly savage beat down. Tsu strutted up to the priests chair with a slight hop in his step, and stared him square in the eye. But without a moments hesitation, Tsukasa grabbed the bottom of the seat, lifted it up, and dumped the priest out of the seat.

The priest did a slight tumble, before regaining his composure and sitting in another chair. Tsu dragged the chair to the right, placing it directly in front of the lady's bed, and haphazardly placed himself in it.

"Well, lady," He spoke in a cool calm voice. "Beasts only attack when you rattle their cage. wouldn't you agree?" A stoic smile crept its way into Tsukasas face, as he waited for the bedded lady to raise her head and speak once more.

[Merrewyn]

The lady in waiting squeaked in a most peculiar mixture of surprise and indignation that, despite herself, Merrewyn almost cracked a smile. Fortunately the girl recovered enough to hastily bring another chair for the priest to sit upon, helping him back to his feet and guiding him over. Merrewyn gave the one currently occupying the first chair a reproving look. "That isn't how you treat a man of the cloth, much less a healer," she murmured. Taking a deep breath and gesturing for the maid to assist her, she crammed pillows under her elbow in order to get into a relatively reclining position. Ignoring the sweat breaking out on her brow and lip, she sighed and took another, longer drink from the cup of water by her bed, equally ignoring the surge of pain that erupted from her hip.

"The only question is, which cage do we deal with first," she mused to no one in particular. Suddenly she began shivering as the fever got its teeth into her again. Her eyes glazed for a moment, and she blinked and shook her head slightly to regain at least what little clarity of mind she could muster. When her vision cleared she found herself watching both of her guests intently as her mind attempted to keep itself on the path she set it upon.

She was about to speak when yet again her chamber door opened, and she was hard-pressed not to shriek in annoyance. When did her bedroom suddenly become her audience chamber? Her guard captain was there again, and this time he had a very bloodied, very terrified man by the collar of his doublet. Dropping him at the foot of her bed like a sack of potatoes, she noted the cut of his clothing, the fine fabric and workmanship evident even though it was rather obvious that it was intended to be relatively anonymous.

Merrewyn wasn't in the mood for anonymity. Without waiting for any kind of explanation from her captain, she reached over and grasped her prisoner by the chin, looking for anything recognizable about him. The one eye that was not swollen shut stared wide-eyed at her, though aside from grunts of pain he said nothing. Ruthlessly battering down mental shields that, even in her weakened state, were like rice paper, she stared into his one good eye, stripping him of the information she needed, taking what was left of his sanity for god measure.

Now with a blinding headache to cap things off, she released him with a slight backwards shove, ignoring his jibbering as he was dragged back out of the room. An ember popped in the hearth, she drained the cup, and laid her head for a moment in the crook of her elbow while she got her pain back under control. Her slow, meditative breath was all the preamble she gave:

"It seems," she began, "that I have more enemies in this realm than previously supposed." She heard the tension mounting in the priest's frame, but she stared past him, instead watching the fire. Sleep was quickly stealing over her, and she only had a few more moments before it dragged her back down into unconsciousness. She dragged her gaze to the man in the seat beside her, making the last few calculations left to her for a while. "I don't know who you are," she readily confessed. "And I don't know where you came from. But at the moment, I can't afford to choose my benefactors." Her eyes darted to the priest, who was rapidly firing off prayers while the beads of his rosary dug furrows into his fingers, then looked the other man dead in the eyes to get her message across. "I think I'm going to need a little more guarding than swords can provide for a little while," she began again while her speech slurred and her eyes began closing of their own accord. "But most of all...I need sleep."

[Tsukasa]

After everything that's gone on, Undead people, attempted assignation, run in with the clergy, this lady somehow still has the energy to scold Tsu for "mistreating" a member of the cloth? Child birth must be a piece of cake for this broad. But, Tsukasa was more amused at the fact that she almost agreed with his treatment, judging by what sounded like a slight hint of sarcasm bent somewhere in her language. After a moment, the head of the guard brought in a not so well treated prisoner. The lady of the house took a short time with him, but quickly discarded him into the hands of the guard once more.

Tsukasa sat with a half grin on his face as she began to speak to him once more. Much to Tsu's surprise, she was right. Judging by the attack earlier, and the utter failure of her guard, she would need assistance. Tsu pondered this for a moment, he wasn't really a mercenary. Tsukasas right eye began to twitch for just a moment, before his half witted grin slowly changed to that of a calm expression. His body slumped to the side, as he leaned the right side of the base of his law line on his his knuckles. "I'll stay the night." His calm voice obliterated the silence that hung above them. "I'll remain where i am to best fit the situation" His goofy analogies were nowhere to be found, and his speech resembled that of her own, straight to the point. "rest well, And we'll speak of these matters in the morning." He motioned the healer to administer to her anything that need be. When the healer had nothing to give, Tsu motioned him towards the door with his other hand. His eyes never leaving the lady, he spoke once more.

"I am Tsukasa Yajuu."

[Merrewyn]

Merrewyn forced her eyes to focus one more time, studying his face. She smiled, albeit wanly. "I've not heard that name before. It suits you, somehow. I think you've heard my name more than once today, but I am Merrewyn ferch Bastian. Be welcome in my house." She yawned slowly and put her head back down as she let sleep claim her.

Her handmaiden watched her mistress for a moment, then began a manic cleaning spree in the chamber. After tossing a few more pieces of wood onto the fire and poking it repeatedly for no obvious reason she finally took her leave, backing out of the room not out of reverence, but judging by the look on her face, she trusted this new bodyguard of her mistress not a jot. The door closed on the two of them, and finally silence reigned in the room.

In the room outside however, things were not nearly as settled. Voices rose and ebbed as her seneschal and chamberlain argued heatedly with a representative of the Patriarch's retinue. Twice someone poked their head in to speak with Merrewyn, but seeing her asleep they quickly retreated, and the arguments flared again.

Outside, it had begun to snow again, quickly gathering on the windowsills outside and lining the panes of glass as frost grew in between. The smoke drifted low from the chimneys as the sun made an inglorious exit from the day. Strangers' horses milled on picket lines between buildings that still needed shelter in the paddocks outlying near the great stone walls of the fortified manor, upon which the snow made another layer as dusk gathered in purples, blues and grays. The cressets and lanterns flared to life one by one as servants moved one to another lighting them with pieces of fatwood soaked with pine tar. Night was falling.

Merrewyn sighed in her sleep as the great gates of the outer walls drew closed with a rumble that could be felt through the floors and walls of her chamber. She tried to turn onto her stomach, but the bolsters propping her in her present position prevented her from moving, and she soon stilled. The lines on her face were still etched deeply on her brow and across her cheeks and eyes, but they were slowly melting away. Indeed, if one watched her closely enough, the wounds were visibly closing, the scars fading, though not entirely.

The air in the room gradually became very close and stifling as a subtle hum worked its way into the silence. A few moments later the healer-priest returned to the room, giving Tsukasa as wide a berth as he could manage while still tending to his charge.

He checked her bandages and replaced them with a new pad of linen infused with strong-smelling herbs, brushing her hair aside as he inspected her facial wounds critically. "She's starting to heal on her own," he murmured quietly. "Very good." His eyes darted furtively to her guardian. "She is going to sleep for quite some time, perhaps days," he informed him. "She will need to be woken to take food and water, and medicines." Not truly waiting for nor expecting a reply, he covered her hip with a sheet and removed himself from the room with a soft shuffling of his slippered feet.

Gradually the activity in the manor ebbed into somnolent quiet, punctuated by the occasional pop of embers in the hearth. Merrewyn stirred, then opened her eyes. They were nothing resembling clear, the ravages of injuries, pain and exhaustion clouding them with a film that refused to be blinked away. She looked at nothing in particular, her lips moving though at first no sound escaped them. The hum returned, subtle and all encompassing, making the stone walls resound with a deep earthen reply. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"More time...I just need some more time...an army approaches, but I need more time..."