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   Chapter 5 No.5

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 4928

Updated: 2018-07-10 12:04


'Oh thank the gods! There you are' he gasped.

'What have you been telling Mandy?' Farrell said to him, with his head between his knees.

'She's just come to my house!' Arlen fumbled. 'Quick, you have to help me; I had to escape through the window!'

'Why do you let yourself get in trouble like this?' Brice glared at him.

'I had to say something' Arlen argued back. 'I can't get her off my back, she's practically stalking me.'

'Just tell her you're not interested' Farrell told him straightening up. 'And she'll leave you alone.'

'I can't, don't you understand? If I do something like that, she'll make the situation as messy as she possibly can! You know what she's like; she hates not being the centre of attention. I can't deal with that!'

'Alright' Farrell waved at him, trying to quieten him down. 'Let's go back to my place; then we can talk properly.'

'Can we move quickly?' Arlen asked glancing nervously around. 'I don't want to be spotted by her.'

Brice chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Arlen's reaction.

'Oh Arlen' he sighed. 'What have you done?'

Farrell's house was built on the edge of the small town upon the lip of a hill. Built like a mansion, the place was grand. Two large fields sat either side of a wide path that stretched towards the manor. In the field on one side resided Farrell's chestnut mares. In the other field roaming in the open space behind high fencing, was his newly acquired black stallion he had named Alastor, meaning 'avenging spirit'. The stallion was whinnying and prancing around, being driven wild by the mares in season. Farrell nodded approvingly at him as he and his brothers went by.

'You will sire many foals' he told Alastor as the stallion raised his head, curling back his lips. 'I will breed many horses just like you.'

'How is he settling in?' Brice asked him as he admired the creatures shining black coat.

'Well enough' Farrell smirked. 'However he is easier to handle when the mares are not about.'

They reached the manor, before them stood a pair of solid wooden doors which towered high above their heads. Farrell groaned with effort as he used all his strength to open both doors at once, stepping into the entrance hall of his home.

Light flooded into the hall through the tall windows all around, lighting every surface. The glow from the sun outside bounced off the marble floors and stairs; the inside of the manor was almost as beautiful as th

e temple where Arlen prayed. But the home was not decorated with beautiful statues and pictures, but with weapons and armour.

Farrell closed the doors after them and turned to his brothers.

'Right' he said. 'I suppose I should offer you a drink or something?'

A figure came rushing up to the three brothers then, an aging woman, wrinkled but still fit.

'My lord Farrell' she bowed respectively. 'You're home. Is there anything I can do or bring for you?'

'Yes' Farrell smiled.

'No' Arlen butted in loudly. His voice echoed around the hall.

Brice shot him a peculiar look.

'I mean' Arlen composed himself. 'No thank you.'

'Arlen' Farrell sighed exasperated.

'No' Arlen interrupted again. 'I don't like being served like a cripple. I have legs to walk and arms to carry. I can bring my own drinks to myself if I need them. But thank you anyway Linda' he nodded to the lady.

She bowed to him, but remained where she was until Farrell sent her away with a wave.

'Thank you' Farrell said to the servant, 'you may go.'

She hurried off into one of the many rooms within the manor.

'Arlen, why do you do this to me?' Farrell asked his brother, touching his forehead and sighing wearily.

'I don't like servants' Arlen replied flatly.

Brice next to him just shook his head, slack jawed.

'Come on' Farrell mumbled, leading the way to the kitchen.

He prepared a cup of coffee for each of them.

'I'm surprised you know how to make this stuff' Arlen said to him, sniffing the contents of his mug as if a little suspicious. 'You let your servants do too much for you.'

'They do do a lot for me' Farrell admitted. 'But that doesn't mean that if they weren't around I wouldn't be able to function.'

'You're forgetting' Brice told Arlen. 'Our little brother has won wars. Heck, he's even outshone me, and I'm older than him.'

'Anyway' Farrell spoke loudly. 'Please change the subject, or else you'll make me blush with your flattery.'

'Yes.' Brice sipped his drink. 'We were talking about how badly you've screwed up again…Arlen!' He shot a glare at him. 'You told Mandy our mother is alive?'

Arlen's expression began to dampen.

'She came over to ask us how she was doing' Brice went on.

Arlen's whole body began to sag.

'What the hell did you say to her?' Brice interrogated. 'She looked furious.'

'I um….' Arlen hesitated.

'Out with it' Farrell ordered. 'You may as well get it over with.'

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