Dryads and Nymphs

Chapter 7-Monsters and Flame

The dining chamber was an exquisite place with tall windows framed by drapes that were drawn back from them to filter light into the unused room. The air had a hint of staleness to it as if the room had not been used for some time now, but other than that there was nothing to give that fact away.
Aron and the king sat at the end of the table, talking in hushed tones, but looked up to see her as she approached them, and bowed courteously. They inclined their heads in her direction and Ariana caught Aron's gaze as he smiled at her, his eyes twinkling brightly.
The King seemed in better health than usual too, his crown catching the sunlight as he surveyed her silently.
"Lady Greene, it is a pleasure that you could join us," he said, his voice somewhat cold.
"The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty," she said, inclining her head. "Though I must say this invitation was rather surprising."
"Everything must change with time, as is the way of life," the King declared. "And my son can prove very persuasive sometimes."
With this the King cast his son an almost fatherly glance.
Ariana met his eyes from across the table and in a look asked him, 'What in the world did you do?' She knew her astonishment was conveyed in her look too.
A smile tugged at the corners of Aron's mouth and he cocked his head to the side as if to ask, 'Didn't you know? I have many charms in store.'
She smiled behind her napkin and rolled her eyes at him. The King cleared his throat and that brought the two of them back to reality.
Ariana blushed when she realized the King had been watching their little exchange.
"We should get to the matter at hand," Aron spoke, and the others nodded as servants started serving them food.
"Father," Aron said approaching the subject with care. "Has the war council decided anything yet?"
"You would know if you bothered to show up," the King said, his voice cold.
"We have not get reached a decision as to how to respond to yet 'another' rebellion brewing."
"I have decided to join the war council from today and help you reach a decision as I should and as is my duty," Aron replied coolly.
"As you should have," his father interjected. "A long time ago, instead of hiding in the woods."
Aron flinched as if he had been slapped but said nothing in return.
"And what if he had been here when the rebels bad attacked?" she interjected. When my father attacked, she thought, but didn't say. "He would have been in greater danger and killed for sure."
Aron was pale now, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't say anything but it was clear he wasn't happy with the turn the conversation had taken.
"With being so close to your village, he had been in greater danger. It's sheer luck that he wasn't discovered," the King argued back.
She didn't have an answer but Aron came to the rescue. "This is not why we wanted to talk to you," he said, his voice ice-cold.
"You want to talk about the rebellion, then?" The King guessed, his face a mask devoid of emotion.
"No, actually," Aron said, wiping his mouth on a napkin and throwing it down before resuming. "The purpose of this meeting is exactly what it is; breakfast."
The King stared at his son with confusion. "Breakfast?" He parroted, sounding skeptical.
Aron shrugged. "Yes. We are a family, and if we want to stand united, I suggest we start acting like a family. We take our meals together from now on, and will discuss the important matters with each other before deciding. I'll also be joining you at the war council meetings, father."
"Very well then," the king sighed. "I hope some good comes out of that."
He then got up to leave, Aron and Ariana rising with him. He waved them back into their seats with his hand and said, "Continue with you meal, and be here in time for lunch." Then he walked down the room briskly, exiting from the far end.
Ariana watched him go. "It worked," she muttered.
"Well of course it did. We didn't ask him for something ridiculous like a pony with snow white mane and a single horn," Aron whispered back.
She snorted. "You mean a unicorn?" she asked, playing along.
"What are those?" Aron asked, an innocent smile playing on his lips.
"They're mythical creatures. Rank high in the list of unreal things, along with ghosts that haunt castles," she teased but then stopped.
"Aron?" she asked.
He looked up from his goblet and met her eyes. "Yes, my dryad?" he asked.
"Are there real ghosts in the castle?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.
Aron smiled faintly. "Did you have a run in with them?"
"Well...," she bit her lip. "Yes, actually." And she told him about everything that had occurred in the woods the day before.
Aron's frown deepened as she went on, but he said nothing. At last when she had finished by telling him about the twig that had turned into flowers, he said, "This is...peculiar. Nothing like this has happened before."
"You keep talking about ghosts like they are real so maybe there are some," she insisted, knowing she sounded delirious.
Aron smiled sadly and shook his head. "That's all they are. I just talk, but they do not exist, nor will they. This is something else. Unnatural yes, but I have a feeling it's something different. I want you to take a guard with you, whenever you go into the grounds."
"But," Ariana started to protest.
"Ariana, no," Aron said with a ring of finality. "Rebels broke into the castle barely two weeks ago, and you almost disobeyed me back then. All I want for you is to be safe. Please, take a guard with you."
She hung her head and nodded at the table. "I'm sorry."
She heard his sigh in reply, and quiet settled over them, neither of them hungry anymore.
"I've sent a letter to the Spanish Queen, they'll send their reply back in a week. You need to start planning for their arrival. Ask Mrs. Henley to give you information if you need it. Ethel will help."
Ariana played with her food.
"Ariana," Aron said and she looked up to see him lean forward, his brown eyes intense and warm. "I know you can do it. I'm here if you need me."
"I want to go to the woods tonight," she found herself saying. "With you."
A smile spread on his face slowly. "Anything for my dryad."
***
The sound of wheels creaking in motion filled the night. The blanket smelled musty, and provided little warmth in the chill air.
The monotonous motion lulled him to a sleep like stupor, despite the pain his body was in. The pain painted different colors on the back of his eyelids, throbbing everywhere.
His throat felt dry, and his mouth tasted sour and unpleasant.
The cold air seeped in from the cracks in the wooden boards of the caravan, and the flap of cloth mixed with the neigh of horses and the occasional shouts of men. Despite the noise their caravan was a quiet one, and he sensed discretion was their aim at the moment.
The horses finally came to a stop a few hours later, and a heavier silence descended on them. A rough hand pulled the cover of the caravan aside and the outline of a man could be seen. He squinted back, the vividness of his pain dulling into the background as his focus sharpened around the man.
"Get up," the man growled.
"I would, if I could," he sneered back, his voice weak and desperate. He hated it.
The man climbed inside and took out a flagon of water, lifting it to his lips. Cold water tricked down his throat and he drank, taking care not to choke on it in his eagerness.
"Commander, we need you to meet a few people. It would be good if you looked your best, given the situation," the man said and he recognized the voice now.
"Kendrick?" he croaked.
"At your command, sir," the man replied.
"I hardly look my best, right now, soldier," he said, grateful that it was dark.
"I said given the situation, I would prefer if you look your best, sir," Kendrick replied.
He laughed. A sound which rang through the caravan, as chilly as the air that seeped in.
"Let's meet these people then," he replied, and grabbed Kendrick's arm.
Leaning on his soldier's arm, Commander Ziluis stepped out into the cold air of the North.
***
The night was cold. Ariana hugged herself as they walked. Aron was quiet, deep in thought, and for once she wished to go back. She wanted to see the cheerful boy he had been when they had met, again.
"How was the war council?" she finally asked, getting tired of the silence that stretched between them.
Aron grimaced. "It was...everything I would have run away from a few months back."
"Still no decision reached then?" she asked, trying to get a straight answer out of him.
He shook his head. "No," he sighed.
"What are we going to do about the Spanish royal family? I don't even know where to start," she voiced her worry.
"Don't worry. I suspect they'll expect much of us anyway. You just need to organize their rooms, select the menu for every meal they'll be having, prepare a warm welcome and a hopefully agreeable departure with gifts, and organize evenings with them where you can sit and talk to them about our situation."
Ariana stopped walking. "That's...overwhelming," she finally said.�
"It seems like a lot but trust me, it's not that much. You'll have Ethel and Mrs. Henley has organized stays like this for many years now," Aron said, almost dismissively.
She stared at him. "I...do you really think I can manage all of this?"
"I have the utmost faith in you, Ariana," Aron said, his brown eyes warm.
Ariana kept silent; a heavy weight had just settled over her.
"So, where did you see those...messages, exactly?" Aron asked.
"They weren't in just one place," she said, leading him back to the first and then the second, showing him where the rest were. In the end they stood near the edge of a small stream.
"How is this even possible? And were there no foot prints?" he asked in the end.
"Aron, I know woods, and I can spot footprints as well as anyone can. There were none anywhere near the messages. It was almost like...magic," she finished.
"Magic," Aron breathed. "Do you think this was the dryad?"
Ariana shook her head. "She would have shown herself. Why would she hide?"
Aron nodded and fell silent. Ariana glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, as the walked. "Aron, why are you always talking about the ghosts if they don't exist, and you know that they don't?"
Aron looked up from the ground. He opened his mouth but didn't say anything. "I...I miss her," he finally said, running his hand hastily through his hair, messing them up.
"Her?" she echoed.
"My sister. She...I miss her. And I pretend that she's still here, if only she's a ghost and I cannot see her. It helps. I can believe she isn't really gone," he said in a low voice.
Ariana stared at him. There were so many layers to him, and he was so good at being evasive that each time he talked about himself she felt like she was seeing a new person entirely; a new but familiar person. How did she even manage to over look him, she didn't know. "I'm so sorry," she whispered back.
"So am I," he replied quietly, his eyes locked on hers. They stared at each other, in the darkness. It reminded Ariana of all the times they had met at the lake. All of the times she desperately wanted to go back to and in that moment she understood. Both of them had changed but their bond still remained, and she hoped it would prove strong enough in the time to come.
***