Blood And Stone

Chapter 3: The Duke

Clouds drifted through the smoke lazily, peacefully. Listening beyond what the world around her was saying, she heard the birds singing their songs in the distance. Bees hung in the air like winged saviors, going about their days as if nothing bad could have had the audacity to happen. The mid-morning sun was shining, warming the backs of the cattle nearby and beginning to dry the mud surrounding the village's main path. It touched Lyric's cheeks in a gentle caress as if to tell her she was alright. It was amazing how one's world could completely change but the world around them would stand as if nothing had ever gone on. But this fact did nothing to quiet the ache in Lyric's body or the sobs of those around her.

She sat up and looked around. Men holding their women, mothers holding their children. Death surrounded the village and permeated the air as if it had always belonged there in the first place. The iron sent of blood was inescapable, sticking to the inside of her nostrils, thick and heavy as oil. She then turned towards the church and stared as the beautiful building began to crumble and fall in on itself. She wanted to run back inside and make sure everyone had made it out but, it was far too late. Anyone still left inside was surely dead or unconscious. Maybe that would mean it wouldn't hurt them so badly. Lyric shook her head as if to send the thought flying away.

Pulling herself to her feet, she bent to arrange her skirt so that it felt less uncomfortable and out of place. The fabric was beginning to stiffen as the mud and blood dried in its folds. It would soon be too uncomfortable to allow against her skin. As she was about to begin walking down the path and back toward her master's home, four rough, strong hands gripped her arms. She pulled instantly, going defensive, the past few moments still raw in her memory. "Oy. Don't fight us, girl. The Duke wants to see you." A gruff voice said.

Settling herself she relaxed a bit as did their grips. "This way." Lyric followed the two men over to a wooden fence where the Duke was sitting, a woman bent down bandaging his leg.

Lyric faced him and waited, watching sweat run down his face, leaving a clear trail in the dirt and blood as he winced. Everyone stood silent as the woman continued her work. Once his leg was bandaged tightly, another man helped him to his feet. He tried to balance but his leg was too weak, with a sickening twist, he fell forward. Lyric, as well as the two men that escorted her, reached out to catch him. He was pulled back up, steadied, and remained leaning against one of his men. "You. You're the one that threw the shield?" The Duke finally spoke.

"Yes, sir."

"That was impressive, especially for one with such a small frame. What is your name?" He asked, hopping just once to bring himself into a more upright position.

"Lyric, sir." She mumbled.

"Your last name?"

"I don't know, sir." She admitted, looking down in shame. She always thought it strange that she never really had a last name. Though she never knew her parents or any family she may have had. They had all perished when she was younger. She was told very little about them but, she went about her life with what information she had. Her family and their deaths seemed of little importance to her anyways.

"Who is your master?" He asked as he once again shifted, this time pulling a leather pouch from his belt.

"Master Vilhelm Friedrich, sir."

"Ah! A fine man. His crops always provide the best vegetables. Well, Lyric of Friedrich, take this coin as a reward for saving my sorry ass. I will be sending word to your master, my wife and I would like to invite you and your master to dinner soon. Within a fortnight." He lightly tossed the pouch to Lyric, who caught it and gasped at the weight she felt in her palm. Val had given her quite a bit but, judging by the heaviness of what she was just handed, she would be able to leave her master's farm and purchase her own small plot.

Lyric smiled and bowed a bit to the Duke. "Thank you, sir. I shall tell Master Friedrich of the expected arrival of your invitation. I am sure he will be pleased."

"He shall. And you, Ms. Lyric, I may have a job for you. We shall discuss it all with your master in due course." At this moment, Lyric felt her cheeks grow warm, a blush taking over. She never thought she would get to work in any place more extravagant than her master's home, let alone the Duke's home.

The Duke had a reputation for being strict but ultimately kind to his employees. Even the lowest of servants spoke his praise, telling tales of him joining in the kitchens to prepare meals, cleaning some of his own messes, being kind and allowing rest to those who fell ill. It was even said that he would loan money to them and let them work it off. He was a decent man that paid well and treated the staff as if they were people.

"Yes, sir, I would love to hear about this job."

"Very well. Perhaps you can accompany me to my home and we can discuss it now."

"With all do respect, sir, I would like to help clean up this village. Part of this blood was spilled because of my hands." The Duke let his eyes travel over the people around him, sadness overtaking them so fast that the change barely registered in Lyric's mind.

"Very well. When you have finished, bring yourself to my home. We will have a bath drawn for you, clothe you and feed you. You may stay for the night if you wish. Friedrich's home is a good walk from here, no need to travel in the dark."

"Thank you, sir." Lyric gave the man a bow to which he nodded and signaled for his men to help him home. She watched them hobble along for only a moment before she turned and looked at the village before her. With a sigh, she stepped forward to find where she would be needed.