Ice pt. 2
Want to start at the beginning? - Ice, Part 1
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She didn’t believe her father when he said the keep was close. Perched on the bench of the wagon all she could see in any direction were trees and snow. Behind the wagon, in a long train that reached so far back she couldn’t see the end of it, was her father’s household staff and the carts and wagons that carried their cargo to his new home.
Her father was mounted on his great black and white steed talking to his Marshal, sometimes tossing his head back to address his children in the wagon.
“The first order of business will be to make my presence and character known to the people.”
Lord Wilham Devray looked much older than his years. His hair, which had once been a vibrant orange, was now scattered shades of grey. The long strands of it poked out of the hood that covered his head.
“What people there are, my Lord.” Marshal Tilldon replied, his lips, pale from the cold, pulled in a deep scowl.
“I wouldn’t have been appointed Landgrave here if there were no Queen’s people to guard.” He gestured to the local woman who guided them down the road.
“The Queen has never guarded them before, nor did her mother, or the King before her.”
“Father,” Domani interrupted, leaning forward on the bench. “I thought you said that a Landgrave lived in this keep before us.”
Devray slowed his mount so he was riding alongside his daughter, “Yes Domi, many generations ago the Rikren Lords served here, but they abandoned the keep.”
Domani pulled her gloved hands together in her lap, leaning forward so that long strands of her dark red hair now hung over the side of the wagon, “Why would they do that?”
Devray reached his hand out, pushing her back, “Be careful, the wagon could hit a stone at anytime, you don’t want to fall out, do you?”
“No,” she shook her head, her red hair bouncing and flowing with the motion.
“And put your hood back on, you’ll freeze solid like that.”
She lifted her hood; the fur that lined it and her coat was soft against her skin and protected her from the biting cold, but it also made it hard to look around at the woods and road.
“Despite your skepticism Tilldon,” the Lord addressed his Marshal again, “this land needs a strong hand to guard it.”
“Only because the Queen worries that without a Lord here the Glevens will seize it for themselves. Though I don’t know why they would, this land is too cold for even their thick skins.”
“I don’t think it’s that cold,” Domani said.
Tilldon laughed over his shoulder, “Not all of us have such a mane of hair to keep our heads warm my Lady.”
Domani laughed and wanted to run her hand through her hair, but only ending up patting the side of her hood. Though the cold had drained most of the color out of Tilldon’s young face, she still admired his round lips and his strong jaw, covered in a light beard.
“Why did the Rikren’s abandon their land, Father?” little Wilham asked, cuddled next to his sister.
“The Yaldings had just invaded Glevemer,” Devray looked at his son, so bundled in coats, furs and scarves that his features were completely hidden, “Ian the Fifth, who was our King then, promised soldiers to aid to the Glevens. Rikren sent his largest force to the fight, then left himself a year later with his remaining men when the Yaldings made it into the King’s land. He was killed, as were all his heirs, and the King, and all the Kings and Queens after him, never appointed a new Lord here.”
“Until now,” Domani said.
“Yes, and it is a great honor.”
Tilldon scoffed at his Lord.
“You’re sure Mildon is already at the keep?” Domani asked, she felt her brother shift beside her. Just mentioning the crafter’s name made him uncomfortable.
“Yes Domi, he is working with the masons to rebuild the stonework that has collapsed.”
“Because our Lord’s new castle is in such disrepair that whole walls and stairways are nothing but rubble.”
Devray looked at his Marshal, his blue-green stare colder than the chilled air; it told Tilldon that his objections had gone too far.
Tilldon acknowledged his Lord with a deep bow of his head. “Forgive me Sir, I’m sure this place will be a more than suitable home for you and your family. I only worry at the work needed to make it defensible.”
“The Queen has given us some of her best men to make it so. And I have faith in you Richard.” He rested a gloved hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
Horses all down the long line reared suddenly. The Lord’s mount went up on her back legs, crying out. He pulled at the reigns to calm her.
A long, wailing groan echoed through the trees, filling the white land with its sound, echoing off the flat ground. Little Wilham clenched tightly to his sister. Domani felt her guts clench and twist.
“Father!” She called out.
Devray’s eyes were wide, studying the trees and snow covered ground for the source of the sound. It ceased as abruptly as it started, leaving a heavy silence in its place.
“It is the river my Lord.” The local woman, Abela, slowed her large, hairy mount to ride closer to Devray.
The Lord and his daughter both looked to the side of the road, to the wide, white frozen river that lay far in the distance.
“It can barely be seen from here, how could it sound so near?” he asked.
Abela pointed out over the snowy ground, “The sounds of the water deep below the frozen surface play tricks with the stone formations in this area. It can be heard a great distance away.”
Tilldon looked out toward the river, “And the other side of it, that is Glevemer?” he asked the woman.
“No,” she shook her head, “That is the frozen island. The river branches around it up past the keep.”
“The island is that big?” the Lord asked.
The woman only nodded.
“Do the Glevens claim that as their land, or is it the Queen’s?” Tilldon asked, watching the island with suspicion.
The woman turned her head, her face serious and stern, “Neither Sir, that land belongs to the ice and snow.”
“Why have a keep so close to the border, Father?” Domani asked.
“It was not always a boarder, the land the Glevens now hold was once ours, but no longer,” he stopped for a moment and leaned forward in his saddle, pointing to the treeline ahead, “Do you see that? There is the castle.”
Domani lifted her head, wanting to stand in the wagon, but knowing her father would not approve. Little Wilham pulled a scarf away from his face expose his pink cheeks and bright red lips.
Above the pine trees a stone tower reached into the icy blue sky.
--
She didn’t believe her father when he said the keep was close. Perched on the bench of the wagon all she could see in any direction were trees and snow. Behind the wagon, in a long train that reached so far back she couldn’t see the end of it, was her father’s household staff and the carts and wagons that carried their cargo to his new home.
Her father was mounted on his great black and white steed talking to his Marshal, sometimes tossing his head back to address his children in the wagon.
“The first order of business will be to make my presence and character known to the people.”
Lord Wilham Devray looked much older than his years. His hair, which had once been a vibrant orange, was now scattered shades of grey. The long strands of it poked out of the hood that covered his head.
“What people there are, my Lord.” Marshal Tilldon replied, his lips, pale from the cold, pulled in a deep scowl.
“I wouldn’t have been appointed Landgrave here if there were no Queen’s people to guard.” He gestured to the local woman who guided them down the road.
“The Queen has never guarded them before, nor did her mother, or the King before her.”
“Father,” Domani interrupted, leaning forward on the bench. “I thought you said that a Landgrave lived in this keep before us.”
Devray slowed his mount so he was riding alongside his daughter, “Yes Domi, many generations ago the Rikren Lords served here, but they abandoned the keep.”
Domani pulled her gloved hands together in her lap, leaning forward so that long strands of her dark red hair now hung over the side of the wagon, “Why would they do that?”
Devray reached his hand out, pushing her back, “Be careful, the wagon could hit a stone at anytime, you don’t want to fall out, do you?”
“No,” she shook her head, her red hair bouncing and flowing with the motion.
“And put your hood back on, you’ll freeze solid like that.”
She lifted her hood; the fur that lined it and her coat was soft against her skin and protected her from the biting cold, but it also made it hard to look around at the woods and road.
“Despite your skepticism Tilldon,” the Lord addressed his Marshal again, “this land needs a strong hand to guard it.”
“Only because the Queen worries that without a Lord here the Glevens will seize it for themselves. Though I don’t know why they would, this land is too cold for even their thick skins.”
“I don’t think it’s that cold,” Domani said.
Tilldon laughed over his shoulder, “Not all of us have such a mane of hair to keep our heads warm my Lady.”
Domani laughed and wanted to run her hand through her hair, but only ending up patting the side of her hood. Though the cold had drained most of the color out of Tilldon’s young face, she still admired his round lips and his strong jaw, covered in a light beard.
“Why did the Rikren’s abandon their land, Father?” little Wilham asked, cuddled next to his sister.
“The Yaldings had just invaded Glevemer,” Devray looked at his son, so bundled in coats, furs and scarves that his features were completely hidden, “Ian the Fifth, who was our King then, promised soldiers to aid to the Glevens. Rikren sent his largest force to the fight, then left himself a year later with his remaining men when the Yaldings made it into the King’s land. He was killed, as were all his heirs, and the King, and all the Kings and Queens after him, never appointed a new Lord here.”
“Until now,” Domani said.
“Yes, and it is a great honor.”
Tilldon scoffed at his Lord.
“You’re sure Mildon is already at the keep?” Domani asked, she felt her brother shift beside her. Just mentioning the crafter’s name made him uncomfortable.
“Yes Domi, he is working with the masons to rebuild the stonework that has collapsed.”
“Because our Lord’s new castle is in such disrepair that whole walls and stairways are nothing but rubble.”
Devray looked at his Marshal, his blue-green stare colder than the chilled air; it told Tilldon that his objections had gone too far.
Tilldon acknowledged his Lord with a deep bow of his head. “Forgive me Sir, I’m sure this place will be a more than suitable home for you and your family. I only worry at the work needed to make it defensible.”
“The Queen has given us some of her best men to make it so. And I have faith in you Richard.” He rested a gloved hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
Horses all down the long line reared suddenly. The Lord’s mount went up on her back legs, crying out. He pulled at the reigns to calm her.
A long, wailing groan echoed through the trees, filling the white land with its sound, echoing off the flat ground. Little Wilham clenched tightly to his sister. Domani felt her guts clench and twist.
“Father!” She called out.
Devray’s eyes were wide, studying the trees and snow covered ground for the source of the sound. It ceased as abruptly as it started, leaving a heavy silence in its place.
“It is the river my Lord.” The local woman, Abela, slowed her large, hairy mount to ride closer to Devray.
The Lord and his daughter both looked to the side of the road, to the wide, white frozen river that lay far in the distance.
“It can barely be seen from here, how could it sound so near?” he asked.
Abela pointed out over the snowy ground, “The sounds of the water deep below the frozen surface play tricks with the stone formations in this area. It can be heard a great distance away.”
Tilldon looked out toward the river, “And the other side of it, that is Glevemer?” he asked the woman.
“No,” she shook her head, “That is the frozen island. The river branches around it up past the keep.”
“The island is that big?” the Lord asked.
The woman only nodded.
“Do the Glevens claim that as their land, or is it the Queen’s?” Tilldon asked, watching the island with suspicion.
The woman turned her head, her face serious and stern, “Neither Sir, that land belongs to the ice and snow.”
“Why have a keep so close to the border, Father?” Domani asked.
“It was not always a boarder, the land the Glevens now hold was once ours, but no longer,” he stopped for a moment and leaned forward in his saddle, pointing to the treeline ahead, “Do you see that? There is the castle.”
Domani lifted her head, wanting to stand in the wagon, but knowing her father would not approve. Little Wilham pulled a scarf away from his face expose his pink cheeks and bright red lips.
Above the pine trees a stone tower reached into the icy blue sky.
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