Chapter Nine

Sorry for the delay, lost the muse for a bit, but now the story continues.

I was woken by hands frantically shaking my shoulders. Disoriented in the darkness, I realized that I was lying a dirt floor. My eyes noticed the row of barrels along one wall and sacks of grain along the other. This storeroom seemed familiar, and then it all came flooding back to me. The long night sitting beside my ailing king. The prince’s power grab. The missionaries installing their new religion. My expulsion from the council. Fleeing the castle when it became clear that my skills as a bard were no longer welcome.

“You’ve got to go now!” the voice attached to the hands whispered. “They know you’re here.”

I looked into the eyes of Tom, the innkeeper, with confusion.

“How do they know? Who?”

“We don’t have time for questions, you need to go. I’ve packed some supplies for you. It’s probably safest in the forest.”

I pulled by boots onto my feet and my cloak around my neck. The pack was heavy, but once I’d hoisted it onto my back, I was able to move about well enough.

“What about my apprentice?”

“We don’t have time.”

“Tom, what happened to him?”

“He’s the one who told the prince where you are. And they killed him for his trouble.”

I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. I’d lost my king, my lover, my home, and now even my apprentice had betrayed me.

“What about you, Tom? The guards aren’t going to be gentle when they search for me.”

“I’ll be alright. Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“How do I get out of here?”

Tom pushed a sack of grain to reveal a trap door.

“This tunnel will lead you outside the city walls. But hurry, when they don’t find you here, the guards are sure to step up the patrols.”

“Thank you, my friend. And be careful.”

The trap door banged shut over my head, and I heard the bag of grain being pushed back into place. The tunnel was pitch black, but I held out my hands and tried to move forward as fast as possible. I tried to count the number of steps I’d taken, but soon lost track. I thought about my apprentice, who’d probably only tried to save himself in these now dangerous times. I thought about Redwyr, who’d tried so hard to convert me in the days after the prince’s rise to power, at one point even trying to kiss me. I thought about the king, who was still trapped in whatever illness he’d fallen prey to, but that I suspected was less than natural.

When my hands made contact with a wooden surface, I felt all around for hints that it might be a door, but realized it was just a wall built to support the tunnel that now turned to my right. I continued on into the darkness, listening carefully for sounds that I was being pursued, or that I was approaching the outside. And I kept moving forward.

 

Chapter Eight

I entered my chambers to find Redwyr and my apprentice engaged in intense conversation. So involved, in fact, that they did not at first recognize my presence in the room.

“Excuse me,” I interrupted. “Don’t you have drills to be completed, my young apprentice?”

“I’m sorry, Jorenn. I was discussing the tenets of the Bright Light with Redwyr. It’s really quite fascinating.”

“I’m sure it is, but it’s time to get back to practicing.”

“You are too hard on the boy,” Redwyr said after my apprentice had scurried. His voice sounded different, but I couldn’t figure out how.

“Becoming a bard is a life’s work. Practice is as important as eating regularly, perhaps moreso.”

I began to move about the room straightening objects, busying my hands, waiting for the squire to reveal the purpose for his visit. I noticed that in the time we’d been alone together he had not once reached out to touch me.

“You know I hate silence,” he finally said. “Will you sit and talk with me?”

“What have we to talk about?” I asked.

“You are angry with me.”

“Perhaps.”

“Betrayed?”

“Maybe not that far.”

“You don’t like that I’ve chosen to follow the Lord of the Bright Light.”

“Not one bit.”

“But listening to the teachings of Master Toren has opened my eyes to so much. I feel the weight of all my past failures lifted from me.”

“Am I one of those failures?”

“We were both weak to give into our desires. But the Bright Light is forgiving. I have been absolved of all those things, and you could as well. Please, allow me to show you His love.”

I looked at him skeptically. Perhaps I was being overly cautious with this new religion, but something about these missionaries didn’t sit right with me.

“I will listen, tell me of your new faith.”

Into the dark hours of the night I listened to my former lover tell me about the teachings that had lead him away from me. I asked questions where prudent, and pushed for explanations when I could. But when a steward came banging on my door, I was relieved to have an excuse to end the discussion. My relief, however, was short-lived.

“The king,” the steward panted, “is not well. Come quickly.”

I rushed across the castle, racing down the darkened hallways with my harp tucked under my arm. When I entered the king’s chambers, I found the prince and Toren standing beside the the bed of a king who’s coloring was fading. Toren was moving his arms in cryptic patterns in the air over the body which would occasionally jump or convulse as if on queue.

“What has happened here?” I demanded.

“Who called for you?” the prince shot back. “Your sorcery is not welcome here, singer.”

“He is my king, and I have served him faithfully for many years. One of his stewards came for me. What is wrong?”

Toren’s arms fell slowly to his side, “I have finished my prayer, we shall have to see if the Bright Light will hear our plea.”

“Have you called for a healer? Or the apothecary?” I asked.

“There is no need,” Toren said softly. “The Lord of Light will take care of him.”

“How can you just sit there?” I asked the prince.

“I have faith that he will be healed.”

I moved closer to the bed, shifting the weight of the harp onto my back. The color was mostly gone from the king’s face, and his breathing was so shallow that I could hardly hear.

“You are not needed here,” the prince said again.

“I will not leave my king’s side during his time of need.”

Long minutes of silence passed as we all stood beside the bed of the sickly king. I wanted to try and play some notes from my harp to reach out, but each time I made move, the glare from the prince or Toren stopped me.

Word Count so far: 5,419

 

Chapter Seven

The Great Hall was buzzing with excitement. The missionaries had entered the city and come to the castle to seek audience with the king. The prince had been meeting with them for nearly a fortnight, and while at first Redwyr’s reports had been dutiful, the tone had shifted to reverance in recent days.

I stood in my customary spot beside the dais and watched the king as we awaited the arrival of the missionaries. They were being escorted by the prince himself, in a gesture that had been perplexing me since I learned about it.

I didn’t have much more time to wonder, as the doors to the hall burst open, and the prince entered flanked by Toren and Lysa, and followed closely by Redwyr. All were now wearing the cream colored robes, although the prince’s was open to show his armor underneath.

“I greet you in the name of the Lord of the Bright Light,” the prince said as he bowed before his father’s throne.

Toren and Lysa also bowed their heads, and Redwyr slowly followed after giving me a nervous glance. The king looked down upon the quartet for a moment before speaking.

“You may rise. A new greeting. Welcome once again to my hall. And I see that you have won over some new hearts this day.”

Toren smiled, “The prince and his squire were baptized in the flames of the Bright Light this very morning, giving over their lives to His service.”

“Is this the truth, my son? Have you forsaken the ways of your fathers in favor of this new god.”

“These missionaries have shown me the error of my ways. They have lifted the veil of darkness before my eyes and allowed me to see the truth. Our kingdom is falling victim to debauchery and vice, and our old ways only keep us from seeing our failure.”

The king spoke no words, but looked back and forth between the four of them.

“And you, young Redwyr. And you also taken up common cause with these missionaries?”

The squire opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a sound, Lysa filled the silence.

“It was a clever ruse, to send the prince’s trusted squire as a informant. How little must you trust your beloved son that you would send someone to spy on him. But it turns out that his soul was even more thirsty for the Bright Light than the prince. He had been lead astray by the pleasures of the flesh, but when his corruption was laid bare, he confessed to all his crimes including his duplicity.”

My heart sank. I tried to meet Redwyr’s eyes, but since the first guilty glance when the quartet had entered the hall, he would not acknowledge my presence.

“You and your followers continue to be welcome in my lands,” the king began, but the prince interjected.

“If it please your highness, I’d like to see that these followers of the Bright Light be given accommodations here in the castle. The seasons are turning and their tents are not well protected from the changing weather.”

The king seemed hesitant, and the missionaries tried to protest, but the prince’s request was granted before the gathered lords. A king must be gracious, after all.

Word Count so far: 4,757

 

Chapter Six

I was summoned to the king’s solar late that same evening. I assumed the hour meant he wished to discuss what I’d overheard, and I was bracing myself for his disappointment when I related that I heard little before my apprentice disturbed me. However, when the king’s private guard allowed me into the room, I found the prince there in a heated, if hushed, discussion.

“Why did you have me followed?” he demanded.

The king looked over the prince’s shoulder at where I stood.

“Why is he here? Do you know how angry the missionaries were that someone was spying on them?”

“How could they know that?” I asked.

“You are not the only one practiced in magic, Jorenn. Lysa sensed your presence.”

This is troubling. I thought.

“I sent Jorenn to provide me with a second perspective on our visitors. And it appears that we have learned something from this incident.”

“We very nearly angered these people.” the prince exclaimed. “I was establishing a rapport with them, but the bard’s interference might have lost me their trust.”

“They seek only to convert you and our entire kingdom to their ways.” I said forcefully. “I didn’t hear much before the spell was interrupted, but heard enough. They will not parley objectively about their motives, and I fear the prince is blind to their true intentions.”

“I will not have the singer who defiled my squire questioning my honor.”

The prince stomped out of the room in a rage, bowling over one his father’s guards outside the door. I turned to the king, my own face flushed with the insult that had been cast at my feet.

“He has much to learn before his is to take my place,” the king thought aloud. “Jorenn, I do not want you to attempt to eavesdrop on our visitors again, as I fear that the risk is too great. I think you for trying to help, but for the time being, I’m going to allow my son to be our sole envoy.”

***

Early the next morning, as I was headed towards the kitchens for some breakfast before setting out to the city for the day, I was grabbed by a strong arm and pulled into a storeroom.

“What is the meaning of this! Unhand me!” I demanded, trying to wrestle free of my attacker’s grip.

“You never tried to get away from my arms before,” a familiar voice joked, and at the same time releasing me.

I turned around to see Redwyr standing before me, an impish grin on his face. We’d been apart for longer, but knowing he was nearby yet out of reach had been cruel. Our lips found each other and my arms sought to bring our bodies as close as possible. But our embrace lasted only a few moments before the squire pulled away.

“The king has asked me to be his second set of ears when the prince heads out to meet with the missionaries again today.”

“Be careful,” I cautioned, laying my hand on his chest. “I do not trust them.”

“They seem harmless. Just here to spread their new religion. Some will follow, but most will keep to the old ways. You have nothing to fear.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Word Count so far: 4,210

 

Chapter Five

My eyes fluttered closed, and a moment later I was seeing through the eyes of the bird. I could hear the notes being played by my other body. The sound of hooves drew my attention into the courtyard, and I saw the prince and his guards charging off through the castle’s main gate.

As naturally as if I’d done it all my life, I leapt from the small branch and took flight. The sound of the tune my hands were playing remained strong in my head as I gave chase to the men on horseback.

Should have used a hawk, I thought to myself as I struggled to keep pace and eventually saw them move further away. But I do know where they’re headed, so I shouldn’t miss too much.

Relaxing my pace just a little, I let myself enjoy the sensation of flying. It reminded me of my time as a novice, when I’d spent days inhabiting the different animals of the forest. When I’d taken the position as chief bard for Castle Srenna, I’d looked forward to the days when I’d pass those skills on to others, but my current apprentice had no gift for the finer arts of the bard. He could play the harp and flute beautifully, but he would never rise to the level of king’s advisor as I had.

The city walls approached and I saw the cream colored canopies of the missionaries’ tent city just beyond. The number of tents had nearly doubled from when I’d watched just a few days prior, and the camp seemed to buzz with activity.

Landing lightly on the canopy of a tent, I surveyed the camp slowly. While there had only been twelve before, now thirty or more robed figures moved about the area. It seemed that some of the townsfolk had already begun to follow this new religion. I spotted two members of the prince’s entourage standing guard outside a tent across the camp, and softly glided over for a closer look. Pecking at the ground outside, I listened to the conversation going on inside the tent.

“You’ve returned to us.” I heard a male voice that sounded like Toren’s.

“I’ve spent much time thinking about what you’ve said. Perhaps, my eyes have been blind to the debaucheries of my home. I wish to know more about this Bright Light that you worship.”

“The Lord of the Bright Light welcomes all who seek his guidance. He teaches us how to live a simple and pious life, without the extravagancies of the flesh. The path is not easy. You may be asked to give up all that you have, would you do that?”

“I am the Crown Prince of this kingdom, I would gladly give my life for its safety.”

“Let us pray it does not come to that. However, I speak not of life, but of riches. You saw when you arrived that some of your subjects have already come to our ways, but it is easy for those who have little to accept the hope of Brightness, but for those who have much…”

The prince seemed to bristle at the notion, or so the sound of restless shifting indicated.

“I have come to ask questions and learn about your Light. I am not interested in becoming one of your followers. If you will not tell me more, I will find others who will, or I will ask you and your people to leave this place.”

There was silence for a time, while I can only assume that the missionaries were whispering between themselves, or perhaps Toren was as bull-headed as the prince and they were attempting to stare the other down.

At last the silence was broken by Lysa’s voice, “You say you have come to learn, then we will teach you. And we shall see if you come to follow.”

I heard the pages of a book turning, and I strained to hear the voices in the tent.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The loud sound of knocking at my chamber door broke my trance, and I was once again seated on my balcony, the meeting in the tent lost to me. I felt slightly disoriented and heavy in this suddenly larger body, but the feeling passed quickly. It would take too long to get back to the camp again, and the meeting would likely be over.

Guess I should find out who’s knocking at my door. I thought.

Word Count so far: 3,666

 

Chapter Four

“I think I’m going to meet with them again,” the prince said.

The king, his other councilors and myself expressed varying degrees of confusion. Only the king spoke.

“To what purpose, my son?”

“I’ve been thinking about the things they were talking about, and I’d like to know more. I want to know how she knew all the details of my life growing up. I want to know how she knew secrets about my squire.”

“I’ve been hearing reports that townsfolk have been having similar run-ins with these missionaries,” the commander of the city guard added. “I’d be curious to know more about how these strangers can know so much.”

“There is clearly witchcraft involved,” interjected Lord Horace, one of the king’s most trusted leige lords. “We should force them to leave, they are only going to be trouble, mark my words.”

The king folded his fingers in front of himself and thought a moment before speaking, “So far they have posed no threat to my realm, and I will not chase them off just yet. However, I would like to know more about their motivations. My son, you will visit with these missionaries again, but I want you to take more protection than just your squire.”

The king dismissed the group of us, but I lingered behind.

“Something troubling you, singer?”

“I share Lord Horace’s misgivings. I do not think these missionaries have malicious intent, but I think they are more than they appear.”

“Or are you just upset that they have cost you your bed companion?”

I blushed, not realizing that the king knew about that.

“My son is young and brash, and seeks to appear strong in my eyes. He has not learned the virtues of love and compassion yet, although I am hopeful that his new bride will quickly open his eyes.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

“But I too agree with my good Lord Horace. And I fear my son may not provide a fully objective telling of the meetings. Perhaps, a little bird could provide us with another perspective?”

The king’s eyes glimmered mischievously.

“As you wish. I will make the preparations at once.”

Hurrying from the king’s private solar, I made my way across the castle to my own chambers. Gathering my harp in my arms and testing the strings for tune, I locked the door and dragged a stool out to the balcony. It had been some time since I’d playedfor more than the entertainment of others, but the magic in the chords returned to me easily. I saw a little sparrow perched upon the branch of a nearby tree, and began to play a light and airy melody.

Word Count: 2,917

 

Chapter Three

I was strumming mindlessly in my chambers when I heard my door open slowly. I turned in time to see Redwyr slipping in, and closing the door as quietly as possible. I tried to pull him closer to me, to feel his strong arms surround me. A few days had passed since he’d brushed past me in the courtyard, and I missed him. But he pulled away at my touch, sitting on chest at the foot of my bed.

“Your apprentice is sound asleep.”

“He was played an inn last night, and came in this morning at sunrise smelling of too much ale and perfume.”

“So he’s not-”

“Just because I prefer the company of men in my chambers, doesn’t mean that every one of my order does. In fact, my predecessor was rumored to be the secret lover of the king’s mother.”

“The prince knows about us.”

“I knew he’d find out eventually. How’d he find out?”

“The missionaries. While we were meeting with them the other day. The prince was questioning them heavily about their god, and I was trying not to fall asleep. I’ve got no head for religion, and all the talk was boring me.”

Redwyr stood and began pacing about the room.

“But then the woman, I think her name is Lysa, started to speak in a very low, deep voice. She started to recite every fib or misdeed that the prince had committed as a child. About the time she’d reached the prince’s transition to manhood, he gave me a look that I knew meant I could wait outside. I turned quietly, trying to slip out of the tent inconspicuously, but as my hand reached out for the canvas, Lysa’s attention was drawn to me. Her voice became even louder as she said, ’He who shares a bed with another man is most in need of salvation. Especially the bed of man who practices a pagan witchcraft.’”

“Witchcraft?” I asked. I’d heard my craft called many things, but never that.

“I stood there frozen while she recited all of my misdeeds before returning her attention to the prince. That was why we were gone so long. The prince wouldn’t look at or speak to me the entire journey back to the castle. Then, last night, as I was taking care of the prince’s armor, he came to speak to me.”

“What’d he say?”

“He told me I was not to see or speak to you again if I wished to remain his squire. He told me that my desires must be squelched if I ever hoped to be a knight. Then he stormed off.”

“And now you’re here.”

“I had to tell you-” his thought hung in the air unfinished.

“Tell me what?”

“Tell you that I can’t do this any more. Except I can’t. I want to be a knight, but I want you too.”

“You’ve wanted to be a night since you were a little boy. I see the joy on your face when you’re on a horse. We’ll keep our distance for now. And wait until these missionaries leave, and the prince forgets his anger.”

Redwyr looked like he wanted to say something, and like he wanted to cry.

“You must go now. You don’t want anyone to see you, especially by my apprentice. I’m surprised that he hadn’t told the castle your secret before.”

I ushered him out the door, past my still sleeping protegé. I kissed him softly on the cheek and sent him on his way.

Word Count: 2,472 so far

 

Chapter Two

I like to wander the walls of the city when I need to think. Today, however, there was less to think about and more to look at. I loitered above where the missionaries had set up their camp the day before. While two missionaries had come to address the king, twenty individuals in the same robes were milling about a camp of a half dozen tents of varying sizes.

I headed back through the streets of the city towards the castle, lazily watching the various residents go about their daily lives. A few would smile and ask about my day, but as the chief bard in the kingdom, most would not work up the courage to even meet my eyes. I stopped into one of the larger inns along the main avenue and sought out the innkeeper.

“Tom, my old friend, what have you heard about our recent guests.”

“They certainly aren’t drinkers, and that’s suspicious enough for me,” he jested.

His laughter shook his ample belly in a way that reminded me of the days when I’d been a humble minstrel, playing for my meals in this same common room. When his laughter died down, he lowered his voice and asked me to follow him into the kitchens.

“They seem nice enough folks,” he started, “but that’s what troubles me. They’re almost too nice. A pair of them came in last night. They took their supper with the rest of the guests, but refused any of my ale. Then they sought out anyone who would listen to them talk about their god. A few of the guests complained to me that they wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I asked them to leave. Which they did, as peacefully as they’d arrived.”

“Interesting,” I said after a moment. “Do you think they’ll be back again?”

Tom shrugged and turned to busy himself with preparations for supper. I headed back out to the street and continued on my way to the castle. As I passed through the gates, the sun was casting long shadows across the courtyard and I wondered aloud if the prince had returned from meeting with our visitors.

“Not yet, Jorenn,” came the reply from nearby.

I turned to see the prince’s new wife sitting on a bench. She was not yet showing the signs of pregnancy, but she held her stomach all the same.

“I’m sure he’s on his way back.”

“He didn’t want to go.”

There was a trace of annoyance in her voice. She probably knew that it had been my suggestion that he go.

“We all do things we don’t want to do. But we couldn’t send the king, and they were no great fans of mine. Besides, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“He is strong. And he has his squire with him.”

A smile crept across my face as I thought about Redwyr, and the last time we’d spoken. I’d asked him to make sure he’d accompany the prince, and he’d stolen a kiss in a secluded part of the courtyard. But my memory was interrupted by the sound of hooves approaching. The prince jumped from his horse as soon as a stable boy had taken hold of the reins and embraced his wife. I wanted to ask the prince many questions, but his eyes saw only the lady and quickly whisked her into the castle proper. I turned to speak to Redwyr, but the squire would not meet my gaze. His head hung down as if he’d been shamed, and quickly disappeared into the stables.

“Curious.” I said to no one in particular.

Word count so far: 1,886.

 

Chapter One

If you’re just joining the story, be sure to begin with the prologue here.

“Humble farmers, your calls for assistance do not fall on deaf ears. You have suffered greatly as the thaw flooded your fields along the river, and your prospects for a good planting season have been swallowed whole. But let it not be said that I am a king who does not care about his people. The fertile lands to the west of my castle are yours to cultivate until the river recedes and you are able to return home.”

King  rose from his throne and grasped hands with each of the farmers who had come to court seeking his aid. He gestured for one of his advisors to see to his newest decree, and returned to his seat to await the next petitioner.

I was sitting in my customary spot beside the dais, my apprentice standing behind me with a flute in his hands, filling the spacious hall with delicate notes. The prince stood beside the king’s throne, his first day back at court since his wedding. His new wife was already with child, and if I’d not known him since were both boys, I would not have seen the smile on his lips that he was trying to hide.

“Presenting Toren and Lysa. Missionaries of the Bright Light.”

The pair were dressed in robes the color of eggshells with bright orange ropes around the waist. They nodded their heads politely to the king as they reached the front of the dais.

“You are welcome here in my kingdom,” the king began, but as he rose to continue his greeting Toren began to speak.

“We come with a good news and a dire warning. The time has come for the people of Srenna to repent and come out of the darkness. We have been sent by the Lord of Brightness to show you and your kingdom the error of your ways.”

Lysa, a woman with intense orange eyes, had been staring directly at me since her partner had begun to speak. My apprentice had stopped playing his flute, and I could sense him trembling beside me.

“You speak out of turn, good sir.” the prince reproached, stepping forward to put himself ever so slightly between the missionaries and his father.

The king placed his hand on his son’s shoulder before speaking, “These are unhappy words you bring into my court.”

“These are desperate times,” Toren again interjected. “You and your people-”

“You will remember your place,” the prince insisted. “You are addressing the King of Srenna, and you will do so with respect, and in your turn. Or I will have you removed from this hall.”

Lysa spoke for the first time, “We beg forgiveness of the king. We only mean to convey the urgency of our message.”

The king smiled uneasily. “You are welcome here in my kingdom, and might be we’ll have a chance to speak more about your message. I will have the steward find rooms for you both.”

“That will be unnecessary,” Toren said dismissively. “We do not require comforts. We will camp outside the city walls until you are ready to hear us out.”

He spun on his heels and quickly made his way back down the great hall with Lysa fast on his trail. The prince bristled at the insult to his father.

“Why did you allow them to speak to you that way?” he demanded.

“They are guests in my hall, and unfamiliar with our customs. You will learn with time that a little patience can go far.”

“The king is wise as always,” I chimed in, rising from my seat. “But these strangers bring dark tidings, and I fear that they will not leave the realm as swiftly as they left this hall. The king would be wise to send an envoy to listen to them.”

“Are you volunteering?” the king said with a smile.

“Most certainly not,” I replied. “Lysa seemed to take an instant dislike of me, and I fear that my position as bard would make conversation most adversarial. Perhaps the prince could go to them.”

The prince was not at all happy at my suggestion, but the king seemed delighted.

“You and your squire will go and visit them at their camp tomorrow. And I want to hear back from you about this ‘Lord of Brightness’ they worship and why he has decided to threaten my kingdom. Meanwhile, Jorenn, please have your apprentice continue playing. My hall is much to quiet.”

The boy began playing a light and airy tune and I returned to my place as the next petitioner was escorted into the hall. I paid little attention to the proceedings the rest of the day, the image of Lysa’s intense gaze in the back of my mind as I wondered what these missionaries were here for.

Word Count so far 1,285 of 50,000 (48,715 to go!)

 

The Prologue

I’m going to try to take part in the “National Novel Writing Month” this year. So here you will find the chapters of my story. One that I hatched over a year ago and I’m finally getting around to writing.

I always wake up at sunrise. By the time the first rooster crowed I was practicing with my harp. On this particular morning, I awoke with the strong arm of a squire around my chest. His warm breath was lightly tickling the back of my neck. I closed my eyes for a few moments and enjoyed the moment, as Redwyr so rarely would stay the night after our passionate encounters. Tthe kingdom may accept the unorthodox behaviors of their bard, but a squire to the prince and future knight was expected to maintain a different life. However, the prince had been wedded the night before, and after the bawdy crowd had seen the new couple to their marriage bed, a drunk squire had stumbled into my chambers and torn my feast attire from my slight frame. Whether too tired to leave or too drunk to care, we’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

When I opened my eyes again, I looked at my harp sitting against the wall where’d I left it the night before. I savored the warmth of Red’s body against my own for a moment longer before sliding out of his arms. The stone floor was cold on my bare feet, as I tiptoed to retrieve my harp and return to the soft mattress. Resting at the foot of the bed, I began to gently strum the chords of the harp as I watched the sleeping form before me.

The room was warm and the sheet was drawn down to his waist. When I’d left the bed, he’d rolled onto his back, and I could now watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest. I gradually increased the intensity of my harp-playing and I saw his eyes flutter open. He smiled at the gentle tune I called forth from the strings as my fingers danced.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

He rubbed his eyes for a moment, “I’ve got a thousand horses charging through my head, but that harp of yours is sending them away.”

I increased the tempo of my playing, letting the soothing notes flow through me.

“There’s magic in that instrument,” he said after a few minutes.

“The harp is just a harp. The magic is in the music.”

“Well, it certainly has me enchanted,” he said with a mischievous smile.

“You should get going. The castle will be waking soon, and you’ll be missed from the dormitory.”

Dreamily, I watched him collect the clothes he’d left scattered about the room. The velvet doublet he’d worn to the feast the night before made him look almost lordly. When he’d gone, I sat playing the harp a few minutes longer before calling my apprentice to help me prepare for the day. The spring thaw was upon us and the farmers would be looking for a blessing and a song before the planting season began.

Word Count so far: 479 of 50,000 (49,521 to go!)