The Knights of Aragon

Chapter 35

I couldn't go back to sleep. I was the first to be up and the first to be ready. After hours of thinking and running my nightmare over and over, I finally had enough and went on a small walk. When I came back, the others had begun to stir awake. I packed all our stuff early and strapped on all my armor on my own, ignoring all the bruises. It doesn't hurt, it's just uncomfortable to move in. I even did Goosey's hair. She wanted me to braid her hair like mine. I decided to make one simple braid down my back, but for her I gave two inverted three strand braid. It looks amazing with her thick hair.

I did all I could to keep my mind occupied. To keep my mind focused on the day ahead. But it all kept circling repeatedly. I looked at each of their sleeping faces and saw their counterparts of my dream. Slowly, but surely, new fears began to arise in me. What if the dream came from Quikas? What if she was hovering over Draxum as she taunted me? Or could it be that I watched my ill-fated life? Constant death all over me, all the time. The cruelest torture would be to live and watch everyone slowly wither away. That was when I came to know Rhydian's pain. I haven't been able to live it yet, but I will soon. Gods! All these painfully distracting thoughts won't keep me alert. Focus, Val.

"We'll be at the Ruins by mid-day."

Bo's voice interrupts my train of thought. "We overshot our course by a bit," he continues, "but since we camped up here instead of the canyon, we'll be there much earlier." Rhydian silently hands me Inferno and Paxis. Thank you, I mouth at him. Vera stands, rubbing her hands together, ready to get a move on. "We'll talk of what happens next when we get there." I sigh and stand with both blades clutched in my hands. "Agreed." I meet every pair of eyes. "I think we should be cautious from here on out." The Puppets. I strap Inferno against my hip, balancing Paxis in my palm. "Why?" Gawain eyes me suspiciously. The Puppetmaster's playthings. "Just a hunch."

He doesn't believe me, I can tell. I'm usually believable but my dream has me rattled. Annoyed, Vera sighs and says, "Let's get a move on, Gawain. We'll be careful." With that, we move forward. We automatically fall into our formations. That's the last thing I notice before my mind dives into the turbulent currents of a memory.

*  *  *  *  *

Then

"Are you sure this man is trustworthy?" I pace, back and forth, in Ygraine's parlor. She calmly sips on her tea, watching me wear out her carpets. "Are you certain that he'll give Em my message?" Elegantly, she places her teacup onto its matching saucer. "My answer is still the same," she grabs a biscuit, "yes. Your friend will receive your warning and leave before you break every law in this kingdom." I roll my eyes and plop myself across from her. "I don't understand how you can be so calm at a time like this." I gesture to her table, full of fruits and biscuits and tea. It is still morning; therefore, all members of the court are still in their chambers. Three days ago, Mordred addressed his court and informed them of the impending crisis outside of Aragon. According to his decree, our livelihoods are being threatened by an outside enemy-an enemy without name-and that his court must stay. This evening, King Uther the Imposter will speak to his people. In the throne room. Word has already spread, and unrest is evident among the people.

My hands tremble slightly, both in fear and in nervousness. "My brother likes control," she taps the rim of her teacup twice with a teaspoon, "In order to maintain the illusion that he controls me, I've had to use other means to keep my freedom." Ygraine purposefully evades my questioning gaze. My curiosity gets the better of me. "Is that what you were doing in the garden during the masquerade? Keeping your freedom." She smirks, looking out onto grey Aragon. I shakily pick up my teacup and sip the warm tea as I wait for her response. The herbs and spice swirl around the cup, constantly moving and shifting. Red spices begin to shape two clear circles, swimming round and round. I get lost in it, hypnotized by its jig in the water. The peppermint leaves just hovering below the surface. I blink and the pattern's gone. Normal tea, Samsa. Normal morning, none the stranger.