Kori, Francis, and her small regiment of twenty soldiers slowly tramped out of Maribel atop horses.
The soldiers who accompanied them were in a neutral mood; many of them joked and talked of happy things, while others remained silent and attentive to their surroundings.
Kori was in a dour mood—a mood that matched the gray, overcast sky which was threatening to rain down upon them.
Kori listened to the clopping of the horses on cobblestone as they headed through the castle city--approaching the portcullis and drawbridge.
Because she was so short, she couldn't have her own horse. Instead, she wrapped her arms around the torso of a knight in front of her who held the reins—leaving her little to do but sulk.
She tried to let the sound of the horses trotting drown out her unrelenting, intoxicating memories of her past with Laurence, and her misery of losing Eory.
Francis, for his part, whistled gaily as he rode by her side.
Kori shot him dagger-eyes. She was furious that he was the only one who had gotten what he wanted out of the whole, messy situation.
"What are you so happy about?" Kori asked over the noise of the hustle-bustle in the streets and the noise of the clip-clop.
"I'm happy, little waif, because I'm free and I'm going home. Maribel stinks; Alanheim smells like the freshest of roses." Francis mocked her openly. "Not only that, but Maribel is freezing and much of the land is ugly and unkempt—if you had slaves as we did, it would all be beautiful."
Kori bristled at his insult. "On the face of things, it might be more beautiful, but underneath, it is a hideous land built on the backs of slaves. Just how much is beauty worth to you elves?"
The knight riding in front of her said, "it's not too late to behead him if he offends you, milady."
Francis threw up his palms. "Calm down, little waif. I was merely jesting."
"Well it wasn't funny." Kori replied testily. "I wish to hear nothing of your ugly culture."
Francis rolled his eyes. "Your loss."
Kori rode in silence again for a time—listening to the conversations of the surrounding knights.
"I've taken on a page as an apprentice—he'll be knighted soon enough." Murmured one knight to another. "He just needs to see some action, prove himself, and then I think he'll be ready."
"I wish Maribel weren't so damned cold," said a different knight. "I swear, I need to wear a coat even during the summer from time-to-time."
As they left Maribel castle, the sky which had been turning darker and darker--relentlessly threatening to rain--finally did so.
It started off as an uneven rain, spitting down from the sky. Before long, however, it became heavier—blanketing the land and the riders in a ghostly white, opaque mist.
Kori shivered and pulled her hooded, fur trimmed cloak closer about her shoulders.
Her teeth continued to chatter nonetheless.
Francis shrugged off his overcoat and handed it to her. "Take it, little waif."
Kori turned her nose up and haughtily crossed her arms--jerking her chin in the opposite direction.
Francis shook his head and laughed.
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The rain had not let up even as the sun began to set.

YOU ARE READING
Inheritance
FantasyEory lived 12 of his eighteen years in captivity due to his evil heritage and finally has a chance at freedom when his caretaker, Kori, informs him that the usurper king who beheaded his family is willing to give him a chance at freedom if he can be...