at the bottom of the hill.
Seeing them coming towards her, Branwen slowed.
“I saw Svend returning alone,” she panted as she tried
to catch her breath.
Harris, Kyla and Anna seemed in extremely high
spirits. “He needed a rest.” His smile remained wide.
“But this is getting to be a habit now, Branwen.”
As they each came together, they made their way
back towards the castle. Branwen raised her brows. “I
was simply worried about my friends.”
They each felt warmed by her comment. “Thank
you, Branwen,” said Kyla, “it’s still dangerous out here
though, the Atlanti will soon be out to collect from the
field.” She had a tone of sarcasm as she looked to
Branwen. “No matter how well trained you are.”
Branwen raised her head. “Perhaps that was a
slight exaggeration,” she admitted, “either way, I didn’t
mean any harm.”
“Trained?” asked Harris, intrigued that Branwen
would be trained in anything relating to war.
Branwen gave a pinched expression. “I used to
watch the soldiers in the fields of Sonnin,” she softly
said, battered by the very thought of her exaggeration
being misinterpreted as a lie. “I thought I’d picked
something up, clearly, I didn’t,” she said with
embarrassment.
Anna could not help but laugh. “We were just
shocked that anyone would do that for Harris,” she
said with a low tone, “he can look after himself.”
Her comment seemed to spark something in Kyla.
“Perhaps he shouldn’t have to always look after
himself,” she commented. As one of the few women
Harris had not had relations with, Kyla still held some
affection towards her commander.
Branwen soon defended her actions. “Exactly
that,” she quickly said, “no one should ever have to
depend on themselves, especially when they have an
entire army at their disposal.”
“Trust me, Branwen,” said Anna as she turned to
look at her, “this one,” she pointed to Harris, “can
look after himself, I’m sure he would rather die than
see someone take the fall for him,” she looked to
Harris.
Harris held his hands up. “While I usually enjoy
the thought of women fighting over me, on this
occasion I do need to mention I am still here,” he put
his arms down, resting his hand on the hilt of his
sword. “I can, however, confirm, I can look after
myself, I’ve managed happily for the past twenty-nine
years, don’t ever follow me again,” he said with his
brows raised towards Branwen.
Branwen replied with a low tone, “I won’t, it’s far
too vulgar out there, I am needed in other areas of this
world, a battle ground is not one of them.” They
looked to Branwen as one of their own on so many
occasions, but each time she spoke they were
reminded that she was far from it, she was of royal
blood, to them, it meant she was better than they
would ever be, even though she did not believe that to
be the case.
The bloodied corpses would soon be cleared, the
field would soon be ready for a new day, and a new
battle. Harris, Branwen, Kyla and Anna made their
way towards the castle Marrion. A cooler night began
to hit, a lighter mood had finally begun to show in the
castle, as they sat at the long benches in the dining
halls the castle filled with laughter and cheer.
Branwen had joined the celebration. “It’s the first
time I’ve heard them all laugh together,” she
commented as she stood beside Dominic.
Dominic smiled at her, he turned to face Branwen,
his clothes were finally clean, it was the first time she
had seen them all without their armour, his thin tunic
relaxed around him, his thin frame showed that not all
soldiers were built like Harris. “It’s the charm of
Harris,” he replied.
He pointed to a small man, sat at the end of one of
the tables. Branwen could make him out in the dimly
lit and energetic room. The man wore a padding to his
face, blood had seeped onto the dressing which
showed he had a large gash to his face, it did not seem
to bother him, as he made merry with his fellow
fighters.
“Him there, he wouldn’t be here, were it not for
Harris,” said Dominic. He took a drink from his
tankard. A soft look caught his eyes, a smile of grateful
pride showed in his broken voice. “In fact, half of this
lot wouldn’t be here.” Branwen looked around the
vast amounts of soldiers in the dining halls. “You see,
Branwen, many call him a cruel berserker,” he began
to walk with Branwen. They made their way to one of
the large tables set out with the banquet. “But Harris is
more than that. The other commanders would see you
dead in an instant, Harris on the other hand, he saves
more than he kills, his obsession with being better
than any, it seems to have paid off for him.”
Branwen was impressed, she had seen so much of
Harris’s success, but she was yet to see Harris.
Alone in his chambers, Harris’s work was not over
yet. The deaths would need to be counted, he had
seen a lot survive that day, he had saved many, and his
figures were showing. The door to his chambers
opened. Slowly, Branwen stepped inside. He did not
lift his head from the papers, he continued his work.
Her voice was soft and troubled as she whispered,
“Apologies, Harris.”
His eyes lifted from the paper; his body remained
solid. In a deep voice he asked, “For what?”
Branwen sat at his desk, Harris lifted his head and
looked towards her. She knew what she wanted to
apologise for, only, she did not quite know how to say
it.
Softly she explained, “When I first met you, I
didn’t know you,” she leant forward; she took a
moment to think as Harris sat silently listening, “I
knew nothing of you, only rumour, of a Xencliff
porne.” She gave a slight laugh. Harris did not laugh
or change his concentration. Branwen became serious
as she continued. “I was wrong,” her voice began to
break, she looked into his eyes, “I was so wrong,” she
shook her head, a tear seemed to catch her eye, “you
didn’t know it was me,” she softly said. “You didn’t
know I was that soldier on the field. I could’ve been
anyone, yet you still risked your life, to save a common
soldier.” Harris gave a slow blink as he sat up in his
chair. “You would do that, for anyone, but still,”
disbelief seemed to catch her voice, “everything you
achieve, everything you do, you should be celebrating
with your fighters, those you’ve saved, but you’re here,
preparing for the next, seeing the suffering. Now, I
think I understand a little more about you.”
Harris
placed his quill down, he glared towards
Branwen as he reclined in his chair. “Still, you don’t
know everything, Branwen.”
Branwen gave a humble nod. She had seen him
only at his best, she doubted he had ever had a day
where he had not calculated every action he made.
“As a friend, I’m always here to talk,” she offered.
Harris was conflicted. He took a deep breath and
relaxed in his chair. “Branwen, I know that everything
I have told you is being sent back to your mother.”
Branwen gave a look of horror. Harris held two
fingers facing her. “It’s not a problem,” leaning
forward he assured her, “I understand that your
mother would wish to know,” his voice was high and
filled with curiosity, “if she truly wants to know about
me, I would like to meet her.”
Branwen was doubtful she could arrange such a
thing. She huffed, “She is the queen of Sonnin, Harris,
she rarely has time for her own children.”
A twisted smile grew. “I’m not her child, I am her
champion.” She recognised his words as he continued.
“I am dangerous, but only to the Atlanti, I am an
insufferable flirt, but yes, I’m a charming one. And
you,” his mouth parted for a moment as he enjoyed
the look of horror on Branwen’s face, “need to hide
your letters better.”
Branwen sat straight, her eyes drifted to the desk
with a blink. “You’ve been reading them.”
Harris stood and made his way towards her. His
strange mood broke. “I am different, but mostly
because I need to know what people are saying about
me,” he slowly nodded, “I must say your mother
seems very fond of me.” His brows raised, “Some may
say she’s fascinated.”
“Stop building your ego,” said Branwen as she
laughed. She watched him slowly walk towards her, he
had a menacing look as he leant down and placed his
hands either side of her chair, locking her in. Branwen
held a look of concern, she looked to his hands on the
arms of the chair.
“Harris, what are you doing?”
Harris dropped his head. He held his head back
up, she looked into his deep green eyes, they were so
inviting to her, his hair which was usually tied neatly
back, fell to the side of his face.
“I have had a very hard day, I’m expecting
company,” he slowly blinked, “that is one reward I
give myself.”
Branwen felt her heart sink. “Very well,” she
sighed as she began to stand, Harris stood to allow her
up. She walked to the door; the same feeling of
jealousy hit her. She turned to face Harris, her lips
parted, a moment of absolute awe in him, passed.
“Good night…Commander.”
Harris looked to her from under his brow. “I
could call her off,” said Harris. Branwen turned. “If
you wish.”
Branwen was also conflicted, she had been sure to
make her feelings clear to Harris, but she did not
know if he was playing with her or not.
“I would like that, but also, I would like you to be
peaceful, in whatever way you feel is right for you.”
He slowly walked towards her, he took her hand,
she felt a warm tingle run through her blood. He
entwined her fingers into his.
Tenderly he whispered, “You bring me all the
peace I need, Branwen.” He leant forward and softly
kissed her lips. He stood back slightly. “I want to
please you; I feel like I’ve not done that lately.”
Branwen gave a twisted smile, she knew what she
wanted, now she knew he wanted the same. Wrapping
his arm around her small waist he began to kiss her
neck; a fire ignited her soul. Burning passion took
hold of her. Softly he held her neck and kissed her
chest. He untied the top of her flowing lilac dress. Her
breasts were deceivingly large, kissing them her veins
began to pulse with passion. Harris took a knee and
gave her a pleasure she never knew existed. He
remained knelt on the floor as she ran her fingers
through his hair. He wrapped his arms around her
legs and lifted her, while continuing to please her, he
laid her on his bed. She finally had gotten her own way
with Harris, and she was elated. Having never known
the touch of a man, her chastity was still intact, she
never thought it possible, but Harris was certainly
different.
As they lay in his bed on the warm Marrion night,
they could hear the merriments from the courtyard
below. Harris rested his head on his hand and his
elbow on his pillow, he looked down towards her in
his bed. Her soft skin blended with the silk sheets as
she held them over her.
“I never thought it possible,” she softly whispered.
He ran his finger over her soft skin on her chest.
His eyes met hers as he asked, “Never thought
what possible?”
She looked into his deep pools of green inviting
eyes, the otherworldly glare he seemed to hold had
her trapped, enchanted. “I never thought any of that
would be possible.” She seemed awkward; she could
not use the same language as him.
Harris gave a warm smile, his unshaven face
seemed to draw her even closer. Her innocence was
intriguing to him.
pleasure, is that what you mean?” he asked with his
brows raised.
Branwen laughed and covered her face with her
hands. She looked to Harris; her captivating smile
remained. “I struggle to be so crude.”
“I’m Xencliff,” replied Harris, “it’s all we know,”
he said as he laughed. A moment of clarity seemed to
hit him as he looked to her perfect face, her skin was
bright and warm, her touch was inviting, but one thing
that he could not resist was her warm and enchanting
smile. “Has anyone ever mentioned, you have the
perfect smile?”
“Never, has anyone ever mentioned your eyes?”
“Always,” he said with an inviting laugh. He knew
she was ready again; this night would be a night she
would never forget. He kissed her soft skin and
stroked her supple breasts, again his head began to
drift down her young body, kissing every inch of skin
on the way down, her calls of passion were drowned
out by the merrymaking that night, but her addiction
to the commander would remain.
Sat in her secret room, Librye watched the council,
her eyes remained fixed on the room, she had not
touched any of the books she had brought with her
that day. Her hate for them grew. The boring meetings
were filled with talk of Brenin’s need for an heir. Her
need to learn was growing. As she immerged for the
evening from a day spent in the rafters, she dusted
herself off in the large tower.
“So, this is where you’ve been hiding,”
said Mord.
Librye was startled as she turned. “I have spent the
entire day looking for you,” she moaned as she threw
her hands up.
“Apologies, Mord.” Librye held her head low. Her
innocent eyes did not seem to have the same effect on
Mord that day, who remained furious with Librye.
With a sharp tone, Mord replied, “I was worried
out of my mind.” Librye emerged further from the
doorway. “Dinner is ready, councillor Kailron wishes
to dine with you this evening.”
Librye furrowed her brow and tilted her head.
“Kailron?”
Mord leant down towards Librye. “I suggest you
get yourself washed and ready, a dress which is not
inhabited by spiders would help as well.” She clearly
disagreed with Librye’s new habit.
Librye washed and changed, a pink silk dress took
her fancy that evening. Small pink slippers fit perfectly
with her dress. Her hair was tied back as she made her
way from the mezzanine and waited at the fountain.
Kailron walked from his chambers towards her.
“Child, I have been given the task of dining with
you this evening,” said Kailron in a high tone of joy, “I
hope it will be a pleasurable experience for us both,”
he made his way towards the fountain.
“I’m Librye,” she nodded as he came towards her.
Kailron shook his head, his tone changed to his
usual malicious nature, “I know who you are.”
Librye walked towards him; her shoulders pulled
back as she did. “That’s strange,” she mockingly said,
“I have been here for quite some time now, although I
have spoken to you many times, I am yet to have an
answer, or conversation from you.”
Kailron was stricken, he had shunned her several
times. She was a child; she did not know how to filter
her feelings. “Well, let us take this as an opportunity
for us both then.” He guided her towards a small
dining hall in the lower east wing. The room was
bland, green walls surrounded a wooden table, enough
to seat a family of six. He took a place at the head of
the table. Librye sat directly opposite. The table was
set with silver dinnerware, a white tablecloth, and
white plates. The servers felt the atmosphere of dislike
as they brought their meal in.
Librye glared towards Kailron, “To say you’ve