From: gdg019@cch.coventry.ac.uk (Ridley McIntyre)
Subject: STORY: RED (7)
Followup-To: rec.games.frp.misc
Organization: Coventry Metropol Tactical Division, UK
Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:46:43 GMT

                                   RED
                           by Ridley McIntyre

                                  - 7 -

                           31 Daethander 1222

They arrived at the town gates under cover of darkness.

 The guards weren't going to let them in, but  Aifam insisted they had an 
urgent message for the High Reeve and that any delay only endangered both
him and the town further, and  eventually  the  gate guards called for an 
escort party to take the travellers up to the  castle at  the top  of the 
hill.

 Inside, the rest of Castle Westwood was asleep. They were ushered into a
private  meeting  room   which   was   furnished   simply   by   a  long,
rectangular  table surrounded by cushioned benches. A tall guard  in  red
livery lit some wall torches and the room glowed with  orange  heat.  The
wooden shutters clicked without rhythm as soft winds buffeted the castle.

 They sat down on the long bench and waited for what seemed  like  hours.
Silence  descended on them like a wisp-ghost, slowly and with the essence
of the  supernatural. It was  as if they were  forced into some pact that
left  them  without  tongues  to  speak,  nor energy to make a sound. But
no  ghostly  apparition  had silenced them all, no magic had been cast on
the room. Instead, the shared memory of  the  last  week  had  left  them
utterly speechless. There was simply nothing left they could do or say.

 And then the tension snapped with the click of the door, and in walked a
tall figure in a grey Seer's robe. Landers could see it was the woman who
had witnessed the signing of  the  warrant issued  for  Cainan Silthorn's
capture. They all stood suddenly in reverance.

 She quickly motioned them to sit. She had no signs of having been woken,
as  if she never slept at all. Landers had gone on late into the night at
times at home in Aszuan, but this late? It was nearly dawn. "I have heard
about  our  plight.  The High Reeve has been informed and will be with us
shortly. By my estimations, if Silthorn is organised, he'll be  ready  to
attack at dawn tomorrow. This does not give us much time."

 High  Reeve  Edsig  entered  silently  wearing  a simple shirt and brown
breeches. His slippered feet padded over to the table  and  he  sat  down
next  to  Keen  as  if  they were life-long friends. "Indeed it is barely
enough time to organise a party at the Beggar's Bush Inn," he said.  "Let
alone organise this town for a siege."

 Aifam raised her eyebrows. "Siege?"

 The  Seer  sat across from the High Reeve, and the man turned in to face
the others. "They'll never get past our walls  in  an  assault.  Silthorn
knows  that; it's pointless. So they'll have to try and lay siege against
us. The only advantage they had was surprise,  and  thanks  to  you  all,
they've just lost that advantage."

 The  Seer  pulled  back  her  grey hood as a sign of respect to the High
Reeve. Once again, Landers was struck by her simple beauty. Her skin  was
akin  to Canderesse  porcelain, so smooth  and  perfectly carved. And her
eyes seemed to shine like emeralds set within that  face.  Unconsciously,
she  pulled  her  single  lock  of gold-white hair back across her smooth
scalp with a swift wave of her hand. Surely in the  whole  of  Temiscamin
there could not have been a woman more striking than this one.

 Aifam  turned  to  the  High Reeve. "May I volunteer to help you in your
preparations?" She asked. Then she added,  "I  still  have  a  bounty  to
collect." 

 Landers and the others indicated that they also wanted to help. The High
Reeve nodded his head, his face wrinkling in a smile. "Thank you, yes  of
course you may help. We will need all the skilled fighters we can lay our
hands on ready for tomorrow." 

 He placed a large hand on the troll's tiny shoulder.  "You,  however,  I
may need for another assignment."

 "Me?"  Keen suddenly flushed with embarrassment, and then an inner rage,
feeling that he was about to be excluded from the battle because  of  his
size. 

 "Yes,  you."  Edsig's  face  had  turned  a little more serious. "I need
someone to ride to Falcon to  call  for  reinforcements.  Someone  small,
inconspicuous, who might fail to attract the attention of any goblins who
may be lurking in this forest. Are you up for the job?"

 Keen bounced in his seat with excitement. "Job I am up for, Sir!"

 When the High Reeve's eyes went from the excitable troll to the  snouted
face  of the ogre, Catan merely nodded in silent understanding. He was to
protect his friend on the journey north.

 Edsig slapped his palm against the table. "Then it  is  settled.  Sister
Alaya, could you please call Captain Wulfric to council? Plans need to be
made as soon as possible if we are to win this battle."

 The Seer nodded and stood, raising her hood once again as she  left  the
room with pride and urgency in her step.

 "Well,  people, I suspect you have had a particularly rough journey back
to Shelfield and are probably in desperate need of rest. There is a guard
outside who will show you to the guest quarters. If there is anything you
need, ask him and he will be able to provide it for you."

 They all rose from the  benches  and  headed  towards  the  door.  Aifam
remained  behind.  "If  you would be so kind, Sir, I would like to attend
your war council."

 The High Reeve merely nodded his head solemnly. "So would  I.  We  would
probably  have a lot to learn from your people's ways of battle. But with
respect, I feel you would be of more use to us if you were rested  before
today's  preparations.  Tonight will be a long night, and it would not be
good to have one of our greatest assets too tired to fight, yes?"

 The elf girl lowered her head in reverance. Her  long  raven-black  hair
fell to cover the tired expression on her face. "You are right, Sir," she
admitted, more to herself than to the High  Reeve  before  her,  and  she
turned to join the others.

				* * *

Landers held his hand outstretched in front of him. It  disappeared  into
the murky grey, fading like a dying man's sight. The  castle  walls  were
dark  shadows  less  than a running jump  from  where  he  stood  in  the
courtyard by the gates of the inner bailey.

 "This fog's getting thicker and thicker," he said.

 Catan  was  a  tall silhouette in the rolling mists. "At least you don't
have to travel in it." Landers watched him shake his large head. "This is
a  bad  omen. We're leaving, but we can't see where we're going. I cannot
foresee any good coming of it."

 The  Aszuanian  man  squinted  his  eyes. Above them, a bright white sun
forced a sad wintry shine high in the sky. "Then why do you go?"

 The  large ogre's snouted face broke into a smile. He looked down at the
Aszuanian. "Who else would look after Keen?"

 "You have a point, Catan. I certainly couldn't do it. And Aifam... Well,
I think the further away we can keep  those  two,  the  better."  Landers
laughed, and Catan nodded, smiling still.

 A horse snorted in the courtyard behind them. Catan  rested  a  hand  on
Landers'  shoulder,  the  chill of the fog suddenly took the ogre's bones
and made him shiver a little. "I have to go now," he said.

 Landers clasped hands with him. "Speed of the dragon's  flight  to  you,
Catan. And look after that little troll.  I  tell  you,  if  we  make  it
through this battle alive, I'll challenge you to an eating competition!"

 Catan's  face took on a sad smile. "I'll take the challenge, friend," he
said. 
 
 "Big horses we have!" cried Keen from somewhere in the courtyard.

 They parted, Catan lifting his pack and padding off towards the sound of
horse-shoes on stone. Landers watched them leave the through the gates of
the inner bailey; laughing when  he  saw  that  Keen's  "big  horse"  was
only a Yieldfields pony.

				* * *

Captain Wulfric wore a bright tunic indicative of  his  status,  but  sat
casually  on  the  edge  of the table in the High Reeve's private meeting
room. He was a large man, much taller and wider than his liege, with long
hair  tied  back  into  a thin tail that trailed down to the small of his
back. On his belt hung a sword only slightly smaller in length and  width
than  Catan's  giant  two-hander, the pommel of which was engraved with a
fierce wolfen face, the High Reeve's heraldry. It  was  pure  coincidence
that the Captain of the Guard had Wulfric for a name, though many thought
it a wise move. It was a name that instilled a mixture of fear and  pride
in the hearts of the people of Shelfield.

 The  door  was  open  when  Aifam  entered.  Only the High Reeve and the
Captain were there to meet her in the room. Edsig  motioned  for  her  to
close the door and come in.

 "You asked to see me, Sir?" she said after a bow.

 Edsig  was  sat  on the end of one of the benches that ran the length of
the table on either side.  "Yes,  Aifam.  Please  sit.  May  I  introduce
Captain Wulfric. Wulfric, this is the Tehalish elf, the one  I  told  you
about."

 Wulfric  nodded  to  the  elf-girl. "It's a pleasure to meet one of your
kind at last, Aifam, though I never thought from your name that you would
be  a  female.  I  always thought that daughters were awarded with longer
names." 

 Aifam  pursed  her  lips  and  nodded.  "My  Birthname is Kaiathamnas. I
believe in Elan it means 'Looks death in the eyes'.  Aifam  is  the  name
given to me as a Blood Daughter, Captain."

 Wulfric uttered a short monotone hum, a sound  that  humans  often  made
while  thinking.  "I'm  wondering  if  you  can see the difficulty of our
predicament, Kaiathamnas. We are dealing with a much more troublesome foe
than Cainan Silthorn and his goblin tribes. The fog that has settled over
Shelfield is not natural. Someone with the Art has created this."

 "Ricole," she said, suddenly making the connection.

 Edsig raised his eyebrows. "You know?"

 She  felt  herself  relaxing  a  little in their company. Sitting back a
little on the bench, she said, "On  our  way  to  the  Cinder  Hills,  we
encountered  a  forester  who  had told us about a rumour he'd heard that
Silthorn was an Adept's lover. The letter that Keen found was written  to
a  woman  called  Ricole. We scoffed at the  forester  before,  but  this
whole town stinks of the Art today."

 Wulfric  and  Edsig  exchanged  glances.  "Well,  you're  a  canny  elf,
Kaiathamnas," the Captain said to her.

 Aifam took it as a compliment.

 "We don't want any of the guard or even  your  friend  Landers  to  know
about  this. Their spirits must be high for the attack tomorrow." Wulfric
rose from the table and  moved  over  the  window  in  two  long,  steady
strides.

 Edsig's  gaze caught her attention. "I warn you this is a Renegade Adept
we're going up against here. Ricole Fevon is a prodigy in the evil  Arts.
All that we know is true, she can twist with a thought. Be on your guard,
Aifam. By the time darkness falls, she'll  have  tried  every  trick  she
knows to tip the odds in her favour."

 Aifam nodded solemnly. "I understand, Sir. At least I think I do."

 Wulfric   turned   to  face  the  elf -girl.  "Good.  But  remember  the
importance of hiding the truth to everyone." He  smiled  a  sweet  smile.
"Your Aszuanian friend is waiting for you, I think."
 
 She thanked the High Reeve for his private audience and  bowed  to  them
both as she left.

 Edsig  turned to his Captain. "She would be a match for most of your men
in the field, I wager."

 Wulfric nodded and laughed. "Pity she was brought up to hunting  bounty.
She'd make a fine soldier."

 "Quick-witted, too. That's going to be our only advantage against Ricole
and the goblins. If we are to kill the Renegade, we must  catch  her  off
guard.  Out-think her, somewhat, yes?"

 "Yes,  Sire.  But  what I do not understand is why you don't put up some
sort of shield against her confusion magics?"

 The High Reeve raised his eyebrows. "You read Cainan's  letter  to  her,
Wulfric.  She  wants  me.  I'm  going  to  need  to  save  all my Art for
protecting myself. I'm afraid it's up to you to protect the others."

 Wulfric sighed as he looked  out  of  the  window.  The  fog  was  still
thickening,  the  town  of  Shelfield  drowning in the dark  grey  mists.
This  was  the  town of his birth. He'd travelled all over Temiscamin and
soldiered  at  Canford with the King's Yeomanry, but his heart was always
here in Shelfield. When he  was  offered  the  post  of  Captain  in  his
hometown he jumped for the commission. Now he wasn't so sure he wanted to
command his townsfolk - some of which were now family and nearly all  his
good  friends - into a fight against the evil Art of a Renegade Adept and
eighty rabid goblins. 

 "Tell me, Sire, what do you think our chances are?" he asked to the fog.

 The Captain turned to his liege. The High Reeve could only shrug.

(c) COPYRIGHT 1992 BY RIDLEY MCINTYRE





-- 
 ____ *     |  | Ridley McIntyre  -  gdg019@cck.cov.ac.uk |   EARTH CALLING    |
|         __|  | Ronin Ironpig - On a Flowery Space Trip! |       ANGELA       |
|     |  |  |  | "KAAAANEDAAAAA!!!"  ... "TETSUOOOOOO!!!" |  "For The Coming   |
|     |  |__|  | -    script for last 10 minutes of AKIRA |  Of Angels" - '93  |

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