Princess of Shadows

Part 1, The Phoenix - Chapter 2: An Enemy Of Many Faces

“What did he say?” the young man demanded once the dark figure was out of sight. Aithne didn’t reply she just stood still, stunned. The young man repeated his question, louder, drawing her attention to him.

Aithne looked at him curiously, as if she had only just noticed he was standing there. The man, Garth, the dark figure had said his name was, had shaggy, dark hair and was clean-shaven. He was tall and well built, although not as much as Prif Arvel. He also had slightly sharper features than others she had encounted, who could best be described as 'blunt', and he was noticeably more handsome because of it. 

“Are you alright?” Garth asked, concern evident in his voice and painting his face. It was then that Aithne noticed the circlet of silver, studded with a single black onyx that rested upon his brow. Arvel’s son.

“I’m fine.” she stated, clearing her face of all emotion and forcing herself into a serene calm, in an attempt to clear her cloudy head. 'What is he doing here?'

“No you’re not, I’ll take you to the physician. You need to get those hands of yours bandaged, before they get infected.” he commanded, and she looked down at her hands, confused. Then she saw that they were dripping with blood.

Aithne was puzzled, she must have lost a fair bit of blood, probably why she felt so tipsy, however the cuts caused her almost no pain. It took her a little while to remember that that was normal, she was a Lièrén after all.

"Well?" Garth queried, already several paces down the hall. "Are you coming or not?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Aithne answered vaguely, as she followed him down the corridor. He led her past the hall and into the left wing of Orlv Manor, where the servants' quarters, kitchens, washing house and apparently the quarters of the Manor's physician lay.

"Selwyn?" Garth called once he and Aithne had entered the room, not bothering to knock.

"Coming! I'll be there in a moment!" came the flustered reply from a side room that looked like a broom cupboard. The main room held several stretchers, lined up vertically in the far side of the room. To the left were two bookshelves crammed with various bound volumes as well as old scrolls and crumpled sheets of paper. To the right was a long bench and a set of shelves covered in various types of plants, dried and fresh, a mortar and pestle, many bowls, jars and bottles which were both filled and empty, open books, unrolled scrolls, spoons, a quill and inkpot, a pile of clean paper, a small pot filled with water, a heap of clean rags and bandages... and the list went on. On every free space of wall a poster was pinned, each poster bore a faded picture of a type of herb, plant or flower, as well as its various uses and potential dangers. From the ceiling hung strings of drying herbs. 

"It's a bit... cluttered." Garth explained, watching as her keen gaze roamed around the room.

"That's putting it mildly," Aithne replied dryly.

Without warning there was the sound of something heavy falling to the floor with a thud. Followed by the cracking of what sounded like a broom, striking the stone floor. Then came the sound of glass smashing.

"Oh deary me!" exclaimed the physician. Scuffling could be heard and a fair bit of murmuring before he finally declared, "Oh never mind, never mind... I'll just... ah..."

"Selwyn? Is everything alright?" Garth yelled.

"Huh? I beg your pardon, who's ther - Oh right, yes, yes of course. I'll be there in the moment." Selwyn answered, remembering that they were there. There was the sound of movement and then a crash as something else struck the stone floor. Silence. "Oh dear."