The Rogue Lady

Chapter Ten

Okay, I want to share a little something first. It took me nearly TWO years to write and edit this story. When I was editing chapter 55, I finally noticed that, the Western Valleys are actually in the East, whereas the Eastern Caves are in the West. How stupid am I for not noticing this before? Anyway, without the map, you probably wouldn't have noticed. But I fixed it already =)

Secondly, I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED EDITING. The story is on Lulu as a hardback, set on private, but I already ordered my first copy. If everything goes right, I fear/hope that my book is the same size (6*9 inch) and thickness (730+/- pages) as my City of Heavenly Fire copy. I got a bit carried away. Oops.

And finally, click on the external link if you want to have a better idea of what Driaven looks like and where the places I talk about are. It's a map guys!! My sister graciously used her magical drawing tablet to make it look prettier. I made the map, and it is anything but proportionate, especially the distances between cities. Oops. Again.

Now that that is out of the way, let me know if there are any mistakes in the chapter. And Enjoy.

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     William and Eric stood a few feet away from me, and their words were exchanged in a hushed tone. I didn’t fully understand why they were bothering; there was no one in the room but me and them, and I wasn’t listening. Mathias walked into the room and went over to them, casting a quick glance my way. He said a few things to them in a similar hushed tone before moving away again. Not even a minute later, Christopher came in and walked over as well. He said very little before joining his brother, and together they left again, a dozen of William’s fighters waiting for them right outside the room. They were still looking for their parents, I knew that much. As soon as they would find them, the Lord and Lady would be locked up. Mathias was silently fuming, furious with his parents that they had let David attack him and his brother while watching from the sidelines. Christopher was hurt, to say the least, as well as angry and annoyed, but nowhere near as mad as his brother.

     I was sitting against the wall with my knees drawn up to my chest, hidden behind the pillars unless you knew I was there. I wasn’t looking at anything in particular, but most of the time my eyes turned to the spot where the magician had spontaneously combusted. Okay, maybe he had had a little bit of help from that dragon he had created out of fire. Another shiver ran up my spine. To think I had been just inches away from dying. Literally, inches.

     I felt, more than saw, William and Eric looking my way. Eric had made sure I hadn’t been hurt by the magic or anything else, and luckily I hadn’t been. William had asked a few questions when he made it to the castle, and I had answered them monotonously, but seeing I was quite shaken, he hadn’t pushed it; I had not said a word since. The near death experience had tired and numbed me. I wanted to go and curl up in a bed, whether it was a real bed or the uncomfortable one in my tent. But I couldn’t. Or rather, I felt like I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair if I were to go to bed while everyone else was still running around, hunting down the last of the Queen’s men in Roseacre and its surroundings, or looking for the Lord and Lady of the city. They had all fought their share of the battle, just like me, and they deserved to go to bed as much as I did. So, bottom line was; if they weren’t going to bed, then neither was I. But I also knew that I couldn’t do anything with my mind as numb as it was, so I sat there uselessly on the cold floor and watched the people come and go.

     Tom walked into the room, his eyes finding me immediately. His expression was unreadable as he walked over. I was vaguely aware of William and Eric looking our way, and remembered that William wanted me to tell him about my special team of archers as soon as things had calmed a little. The tall archer crouched down in front of me and took me in for a moment. I did the same. His brown hair was tousled, a complete mess from the cape being pulled up and off, from running, from shooting, from the hand I had seen him run through it several times. His eyes were wide and alert, but quite tired at the same time. His bow was still on his back with both quivers. The second quiver was almost empty now as well, except for five arrows. I didn’t think he had taken any hits throughout the night, but I was wrong; his sleeve was ripped at his right bicep, although there was no blood. That was good, because I had seen him shoot a bow, and he needed both arms free of pain. Unlike my left arm, where the pain started seeping back into my muscles; I wondered how long it would take to heal properly.