~ The Farce ~ pg 8

Fiora was nodding her head. “Okay, I can see that as a possibility. It makes sense.” Civyl was surprised to hear he make the concession. She had always spoken well of The Wisdom and in good faith of her decisions. “But why send me in the first place?” she asked.

“You were his promised,” Demil offered, “There was no reason not to let you go.”

Nivia’s voice joined the speculation, “And every reason to encourage you to help him in his quest if she learned as I have; imminent disaster for all her lands when The Sight walks the earth.”

Chink had moved away from the wall to join the circle of voices. “If I were Lady Darya, a pretender faced with unknown danger, I think I would want to gather as much power to myself as possible. She is a selfish woman. She would not ‘esitate to use you fer protection.”

“The question, then,” Borris posed, “is what do we do about it?”

All of the Birchwoods looked at each other, communicating without words or even a nod. It was just the intensity of the stare that decided them. Alex was the one to speak for them all. “If the Wisdom is now opposed to this quest, then I would see it through. The Birchwoods will ride with you to the pass.”

“To the pass,” They all cheered together. 

Nivia’s half-smile was aimed at Fiora. The one thing that could unite them, and Fiora had found it. Their dislike of The Wisdom. “It is settled. We will make preparations today and ride out tomorrow morning.” No one argued with her this time. “And back to bed with you, child,” she admonished Fiora, who also did not argue. 

Civyl watched her turn lethargically to the steps as Borris’s arm dropped from her shoulder. All of the men started to walk away as her foot reached the first step, but while the others were distracted, Fiora had one last surprise for him. With a gust of wind to hurry her, she rushed across the room and threw her arms around him in an embrace. Her cheek warm against his chest, Civyl froze, though the fire in the hearth flared. In his selfishness he didn’t want her to let go, though he didn’t dare wrap his arms around her in response. 

The others stared, just as frozen, until Alex locked gazes with him. What Civyl saw surprised him. Sympathy. The man walked forward before the first tear slid down Civyl’s cheek. “Come on Fiora,” he urged as he pulled her arms away. “You need your rest.” Civyl did not look at her upturned face. He could not. Instead he stared at Alex for strength. The man was not bound to the promise he had made, but thank the Fates, he was keeping it anyway.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed