Part 8: Rapture

(date ref: feb 9th vol 1)

EDWIN

His eyes followed Silks stern gaze. His heart stopped. Amid the blood red, and stinctillating light lounged the Carthian king. Even without the crown and throne it would have been obvious that this figure was the king. Every inch of Armand rippled with stateliness. His exquisite clothes matched perfectly the décor of this vast hall. His face was perfect in every detail. Some artist, surely had laboured over the king, striving to improve on perfection- surely such a handsome visage could require little perfecting- as the king obviously wore make up. Haughty, arrogant eyes stared piercingly across the room towards them, face framed by perfect ringlets of a brilliant golden colour. Laughter twinkled in the king's eyes as he appraised their bedraggled state.

The king had not yet noticed Edwin, or so it seemed- his attention firmly fixed upon Silk. Obviously he had wit enough to know when he faced his rival, even if they were more muddy that courtly. The nobles however had noticed their Kings alertened state, and fixed gaze. Silence abruptly fell over the hall, the whirling dancers still as if they had never moved from their respective spots. With a new passion burning in his veins Edwin watched the regent rise.

(date ref: feb 10th vol 1)

ARMAND

The two strangers had slipped in unnoticed by the general crowd. From the corner of his eye Armand watched them stand a gawk like a couple of Surrendian yokels. Surrendian? Interested now he looked at the blonde. Unwavering eyes met his own. The stranger was well dressed if a little soggy. Despite the water something about him spoke of nobility, perhaps a trite informal, but nobless none the less. Finding nothing better to do he decided to address the strangers. Around him the court had felt his intense gaze, and silence descended, even the roar of the rain seemed to abate momentarily, as if the whole world was interested in this first meeting. The Great Hall took on a coiled, baited atmosphere. As elegantly as he could manage, Armand stood, self-aware, but not self-conscious

"What's all this then?" He smiled a charming smile " You're dripping on my floor!" It was obvious to whom he spoke, a nervous titter circulated the room with his words. The two strangers advanced, the blonde one attempting to appear confident and self-possessed. Oddly – or perhaps not – his companion had eyes only for himself, an odd hunger burning within their dark and stormy depths.

With difficulty Armand forced himself to ignore the mysterious lad, all would be revealed no doubt. The blonde one was still looking at him

"I am Silk" he said, attempting to gain stature "King of Surrendia" the crowd gasped, as if watching one of the trite pantos from the previous day.

"Well!" exclaimed Armand, genuinely almost slightly impressed "Of course we heard your sad news, it seems that the whole world is on mourning. I must admit though that I did not expect to meet the new Surrendian king so soon. I hope we meet on favourable terms?" Indolently Armand flopped back to his previously relaxed portion on the throne, leg draped over one arm.

"Favourable, for who? Of course your carrier bird reached my fort" Silk blushed involuntarily at the thought of his fort when compared to this Carthian Stronghold "I have come to vindicate my messengers, and to – well, our business is not for everyone's ears" Silk indicated the rapt court.

"Perceptive. Yes I still have your messengers under arrest. I have not harmed them, and I have ordered no punishment, but, well, you know what guards are like"

Silk ached to blurt out ' so you can't even control your own people' but knew when to hold his tongue. Taking Silks silence as a reply, Armand smiled, enjoying the sight of his only rival dripping wet and unguarded in his hall. It intrigued him that Silk would do such a thing. It was either an act of foolhardiness or audacity. At that point he could not decide which, the thought that Silk could be here to size up his rival unnerved him slightly, not that he perceived Silk as a threat, more that his fun and games might be interrupted by the necessity of war. Either was it was apparent that the boy was unprepared for leadership, his actions were those of a child

"have you found your mothers assassin?"

"Yes" Silk replied with a little hesitation- enough to tell Armand that he lied "It was a serving girl"

"I see, a tragedy to be sure"

(date ref: feb 13th vol 1)

SILK SURRENDIAN KING

With every moment spent in Armand's company, Silk disliked him more and more. The Carthian's airs and graces, calculated and affectated in the same instant, with that cold, cruel smile, and always a hint of insolence in his voice. It all grated on Silks nerves.

More than slightly irritated by Armand's blatant and deliberate lack of manners – keeping them stood dripping wet, questioning him openly like a common messenger, pointedly he asked

"Am I to receive hospitality, or are we to stand here all night, risking ill-health?"

"of course not" Armand said dismissively as if it had been Silk's idea to stand there "you will be assigned rooms befitting your stature ... But first, who is you tempestuous friend?" Armand's voice taking a tone that suggested an intimacy which was too close to the truth for Silks liking. Involuntarily he stepped away from Edwin, and received a hurt glance before the young Lord stepped forward and introduced himself.

(date ref: feb 15th vol 1)

EDWIN

The stunning king had paid him no heed till then, Armand's attention had been firmly fixed on Silk. Edwin knew that the Carthian monarch was belittling Silk, and in no small way, already gaining considerable psychological advantage. After the last few days though, Edwin felt quite content for Silk to be humiliated a little. Edwin was scarcely aware of his own damp state, he was too focused on the king- He watched Armand move, devouring every detail. The kings well spoken voice a tantalising mix of sarcasm and well-feigned offhandedness. Where Silk found faults, Edwin saw only beauty, appreciating that which his friend dismissed. Armand's eyes, particularly, when he turned them on Edwin, he found to be a sparkling blue oasis of wit and cunning coupled with a keen intellect.

" ... but, first who is your tempestuous friend?" The divinity had said. Desperate to make an impression on this rare creature, Edwin stepped forward, bowing deeply – his eyes locked on to Armand's the whole time

"Your highness, may I present myself? I am Edwin, Lord of BLANK, Surrendia, your highness"

"Loyal to your king I hope?" Armand asked, an interesting lilt in his voice, subtle, yet clear by the glint in his eyes. Inside Edwin wriggled with glee, his hungry gaze had not gone unnoticed – he had gained the king's interest

"Of course ... your highness"

Satisfied, for now, Edwin retreated respectfully to Silk's side, it would not do to push this magnificent psyche too far, after all the eyes of the court were upon them.

(date ref: feb 16th vol 1)

MORGAN

Upon ditching the horses, the proud little girl stomped off to find someone in authority. Quickly she secured apartments, and a change of clothes. Recognising Morgan's quick to anger temperament, the servants quickly showed her to a huge set of rooms, far larger and more finely decorated than her own in Midian. In contrast to Midian too, there was little wood, the Stronghold being made almost exclusively of stone. There were five rooms in total in her wing, all definitely set aside for her own use. Elysium had rounded up some hung over and unwilling thralls to do her bidding, she too seemed to be enjoying the lavish surroundings.

It seemed to Morgan that it took an age to get ready, her hair had taken forever, it seemed that the maid was taking great pains to make it appear longer than it actually was. The cloistered girl had no idea that the other ladies would sneer at her functional short locks, in Carthia proper even the thrall females grew their hair long, no respectful female would be seen with boyish looks.

By the time Morgan arrived at the Great Hall the king had retired, Elysium, being a servant was denied access, so Morgan wandered the expanse at a loose end. Ridiculously she looked round for Silk, having grown accustomed to his company over the last few days, but she knew it was futile as he was only a commoner, and therefore excluded along with her servant. Amid the sea of faces she was totally lost, they all looked, and acted so differently to what she was accustomed to. Glum and disappointed she foraged for food, then retired to her cavernous apartments.

(date ref: feb 18th vol 1)

SILK

Separate servants led the Surrendians from the Great Hall to their rooms. Being the King of Surrendia – and the title being, on paper at least, equal to that of King of Carthia – Silk was given a lavish suite, a vast apartment was to be his lodgings in Carthia.

A nondescript servant cautiously came and introduced himself, and explained that he was to be Silk's valet while he remained at the Stronghold, and would undertake any task for the king. Glad that, at last he was being given the treatment he deserved, Silk sent him off for new clothes and some food.

He ate alone, the rain steadily pouring down outside his window, filling the room with a damp, fresh smell. Silk had never been so isolated before, his single room in Surrendia barely scratched the surface of these assigned quarters, none of which showed signs of recent use. The apparent splendour that had surrounded him in his homeland paled into insignificant baubles and nasty trinkets when compared to Armand's inheritance. Sullenly he brooded, not realising that Armand had done that on purpose. Now that he was here his reasons for coming seemed ludicrous. He angrily relived his demeaning audience with Armand, stewing over his enemy's calculated slurs and superior manner. Eventually though Edwin came

(date ref: feb 19th vol 1)

EDWIN

In fine spirits Edwin followed the Carthian servant to his assigned quarters. As a Lord he warranted a fair sized suite, but Edwin was still surprised by what he found. His delegated rooms totalled five in all, and the interior was astoundingly rich. Surrendia could never hope to boast such wealth. Starry-eyed, Edwin explored the rooms – they were so vast as to require 'exploring'. Somehow though Edwin felt that he would not need to use them much. A valet had appeared with food and clean clothes. The shade of which, Edwin mused seemed startlingly similar to Armand's own.

He ate alone, listening to the rain, noticing the odour of wet masonry. The rooms felt hollow, as if no one had lived there for many a year. Truly the Stronghold was of gargantuan proportions, the view from outside had not allowed him to fully appreciate the scope of the place, and though in retrospect, any castle carved out of an entire mountain had to be fairly large. Surely a large portion of this place lay unused, the Great Hall had been nowhere near capacity. Traces of other huge monuments around their world spoke of a long vanished race, but none more clearly that the Stronghold itself. It had been added to by the Carthian's, on the outer side new more familiar buildings looked new, but, so the stories said the oldest constructs lay deep in the mountain all but forgotten, and certainly never used.

Edwin brooded for a short while, testily considering Morgan, of how easily she had wormed her way into Silk's heart with her silly femininity, so subtly that neither Silk nor herself were even aware of it. The thought was like a fresh knife wound. He thought also of Armand. Everything about the king appealed to Edwin, beside him, Silk seemed so much less.

Unwilling though, to admit defeat, Edwin left his rooms in search of Silk. A while later, after getting thoroughly lost he procured a guide to take him to Silk. With his usual familiarity he entered without knocking.

(date ref: feb 21st vol 1 taken from spiral 2)

ARMAND

Armand left the celebrations shortly after Silk and Edwin. He bid the revellers continue in his absence, amid a drunken flurry of 'long live the king' Armand strode away.

Once more in the sanctity of his rooms Armand dismissed Leander. He had games to plot. Things certainly were interesting. The Surrendian queen murdered, the new king practically deserting his throne for a mere messenger, and what of the was everyone seemed to fear – perhaps the king felt safe in Armand's lair. He also wondered about ''a serving girl'' being Anastasia's murderer. Servants did not kill monarchs, at least not on their own. The Carthian king knew that Silk was no murderer – he did not have what it took, Armand was well aware of just what it did take. Silk was not the murdering type.

And what of the Surrendian's friend. Obviously he was a trusted friend, perhaps more than a friend, this thought amused Armand for some time. There had been a slight tension about the two of them, they had argued – recently. The young lord could, therefore be useful. Edwin was an odd figure, true he was a fine looking lad, his whole appearance spoke of a passionate nature. Emotionality, sensitivity, and a fair measure of intelligence lay under his stormy exterior. The lord had made an almost painful attempt to catch his eye, Armand did not mind - of course the boy would want his favour – after all he was the king of Carthia, and dashing with it.

The court seemed not to have noticed Edwin's intent, the same as they failed to notice the nature of the 'relationship' between the two Surrendians.

The king was intrigued by Edwin's intentions, in a moment of perverse inspiration he recalled Leander and specified that Edwin should receive stately clothes, matching in hue, Armand's recently favoured blood red. It was not a subtle ploy, but in a mans own kingdom surely subtleties could be dispensed with.

Unwilling to bide his time, Armand took his bottle of laudanum and entered the secret passages.

(date ref: feb 22nd vol 1)

He had placed the visiting nobles specifically so they would be simple to access via the passages from his own. Swiftly he decided that going to Silk's rooms would be the most profitable, Edwin was bound to end up there, and Armand felt he was far more likely to overhear useful information from the king. He found Silk dryer, and in fresh clothes, he sat on edge in the bedchambers. The Surrendian kink seemed ill at ease in the large rooms, must be a step up in the world Armand chuckled to himself.

As the lad seemed to be doing little, Armand found himself a well positioned spy hole and settled down to wait. Half a bottle of laudanum later he felt someone approaching.

Without a knock the door opened, Edwin strode in. Armand smiled, the young lord was decked in the blood red garments.

"Can't you knock?" Silk said testily, although he had not been startled by the boy's entrance. Edwin looked very hurt "Sorry Edwin. All this has got me jumpy"

"That's ok" the youth relaxed and sat opposite Silk "It's big here – I've been given five whole rooms"

"There's eight here" Silk sounded uninterested in talking

"Have you seen any more of Morgan?" The question was more of a challenge than a genuine question

"No. Does it matter?"

"I think it does" Edwin made no attempt to hide his jealousy

"Why?"

"You know why. You can't be that blind!"

"I think I want to go to bed now" Silk said firmly, standing, an edge of hostility in his voice. Relief – or was it desperation – upon Edwin's face he went to Silk and tried to draw him into his arms "Alone" Silk said firmly, pushing Edwin away. The rejected lad turned an interesting colour (Armand nearly choking on his drink with mirth at the scene unfolding before him) rage, and chagrin showed clearly on his face

"Reject me now Silk, and it's for good – I won't come back" Edwin's voice as cold as ice, a raging fire in his voice

"Please, Edwin. Don't do this. It's just tonight. I've been through so much this week. Please don't do this"

"We've always been together. You never wanted time apart. Always it's just you and me - Why now suddenly. No I know what's going on. Send me away, Your Highness " – he spat the words sarcastically- " ... and I won't come back"

"I'm sorry Edwin" Silk's head hung, voice totally defeated, the boy-king unable to meet the eyes of his spurned lover.

Edwin shot Silk a look of hate, and without a word, left.

As soon as the door banged shut the Surrendian king collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

Disgusted, Armand left.

Once more within his apartments, the young King stripped, and, as was his custom, relaxed in his chair, sipping the last of the laudanum. An interesting scene, Armand mused, Very interesting. He was pleased that he had guessed correctly, when in the Great Hall he had insinuated a more than just good friends relationship existed between the king and his lord.

From Edwin's frantic pleas, and his look of utter dejection when he left Silk's apartments, trouble had been brewing from before they reached the Stronghold.

Given the Surrendian's personal problems that Edwin could prove to be a useful tool.

(date ref: feb 25th vol 1)

SILK

Silk sobbed for a long while after Edwin had stormed out, His heart seemed destroyed. Why? Why, Edwin? Silently he called after his love. He knew that Edwin had spoken the truth, before it had always been him and Silk. Unquestioning. Silk would never have even contemplated sending Edwin away. It was the two of them, side by side, against the world. Damn it, he had lost his mother, then without a moment for grief travelled right across the known world, for Edwin. At his bidding. What more did he want. Why was Morgan upsetting him so much, he'd spoken to other women, courted as was his duty, and anyway it wasn't as if he was going to marry the girl. Though Edwin knew that one day he would be forced to marry, being king demanded an heir. The whole situation was so unfair.

Silk knew also that something had changed, that girl's accusing eyes had made him feel as if what Edwin and himself shared was somehow wrong, made him feel ashamed.

Forlorn, and keenly aware of being terribly alone in the world, Silk tried to sleep.

The darkness in his unfamiliar apartments though, seemed thick, as if it lurked with unnamed phantoms and ghouls given life by the bad things in his mind. Finally as the cock crowed, and the sun rose the troubled boy fell asleep.

(date ref: feb 26th vol 1)

EDWIN

He had been crushed when he left Silk. His disappointment, and bitter taste of rejection was only made bearable by the tiny jewel in his mind. A jewel that promised to shine brighter and bloom larger than anything before it, he held on to the image of Armand clearly in his mind.

Edwin felt sure that Armand had sent him the blood red clothes as a sign. The boy had seen a burning passion lying under Armand's seemingly cold exterior. What form that drive would take when finally acknowledged Edwin could hardly guess, but dearly wanted to find out. The thought of these future possibilities cheered him greatly – though not entirely. It was with a feeling of anticipation that Edwin fell asleep. All night he dreamed blood-coloured dreams of the King.

Edwin arose in his own time, he knew intuitively that the Carthian King would be a late riser, perhaps even a night owl. Only one used to parties and late nights could party for days and still look fresh and rested at the end of it. With this knowledge Edwin dallied in his rooms. He felt no need to seek Silk out – there was nothing between the Surrendian king and himself other than the ostensible business at hand. Despite, though, his attempts to fool himself in to believing that, a small part of his soul wept still for what they shared, and wished they had never left Surrendia – or more that the scheming Hannah had been less ambitious.