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   Chapter 9 No.9

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5450

Updated: 2018-07-10 12:03


'What should we do with the prisoners sir?' one of his soldiers asked him.

Farrell cast his eyes down to the row of men that had been bound and forced on their knees. Thieves and cutpurses, liars and dishonest men, these were the dregs of human-kind. They were all dressed in tatty, weather-worn clothes that smelt like salt. Some of the men wore excessive and expensive jewellery that was no doubt stolen. There was even a young boy amongst them; he could not have been more than fourteen in age. Farrell held the boys fearful gaze for a moment, before turning his back on him.

'We take no prisoners' Farrell spoke back to his soldier, 'especially of this type. Kill them.'

He walked away from the sound of cries cut short and throats being slit, not looking back.

'We go home now?' Brice asked Farrell, joining his side and walking with him.

'Yes my brother' Farrell smiled. 'We go home, and we celebrate. We are done here.'

They returned to the small town in success. A brief encounter that was done and dusted in naught but a few hours, with all thanks to Farrell, as many would say. Farrell praised the men he led for their part, for none had been lost. Slowly the small band of soldiers separated once they reached the town, each going to their own homes, some to wives and children.

The sky was darkening, and the distant figures of men and women in the town going about their business were becoming nothing more than vague silhouettes. Brice walked with his brother, talking and smiling as they made their way slowly through the town. Recounting the finer point of the battle of this day and previous days, they spoke of politics, the king, and many things that would bore most women. They ambled beside their tired horses, passing a particular point in the town where women of the night liked to gather. A few of them hung around outside the only inn the town held. Farrell glanced sideways towards them. Two of the women caught his attention, both eyeing him up and down and batting their eyelashes seductively.

The two women were dressed in draping garments that revealed the side of their breasts, arms and when they walked, their legs. Their long hair was tied up and they both wore heavy make-up around their eyes, and painted tattoos running down their arms.

Noticing Farrell's prolonged gaze they smiled simultaneously. Straightening up and strolling over to him, they each took him by an arm. Farrell grinned slyly.

'My knight' one of the women cooed. 'What a long and tiring day you must have had.'

'Come with us' the other woman said in a purring voice. 'We will help you relax.'

Farrell's smile grew wider across his face as he surveyed both of the women with interest.

He grabbed both of them suddenly around the waist, pulling them close to him.

'Well' Brice interrupted loudly at this point. 'I suppose I had better be going.'

'Awww, won't you stay with us?' one of the women said, sad to see him go.

'Yes won't you stay with us?' the other repeated. 'We could use the extra hands.'

'I had better go' Brice repeated. 'Home. To my wife.'

'We understand' one of the women winked.

'Come' the other said, pulling Farrell away as he let go the reins of his horse. 'We will put you at ease.'

'I'll see you tomorrow then Farrell' Brice said loudly as he walked away, taking the reins of Farrell's horse with his own as he went.

Elsewhere within the small town, within the temple, a man prayed.

Arlen knelt with his hands together and head bowed. Before the statue of the god Faeroe, the fox-eared man with a sweeping lizard tail. To him Arlen sent his prayers.

Please. My lord god. Give meaning to my life. Let me find the right woman, to love, and who would love me in return. Make her loyal. Make her honest. Make her pure. Make her a good wife to me, as I would be a good husband to her.

This is all I ask for.

The sun rose early the next morning. Ramana stood inside the tall walls that surrounded the manor in which she lived, standing before the great gates that led to the outside world beyond her home. The low sun at this time of day could not reach into the grounds, and Ramana was cast in a great shadow.

She reached for the tall gates, pushing forwards with all her strength; she heaved the heavy double doors open.

The sun's touch spilled into the grounds, drowning Ramana in light. She regarded the new world at her feet, staring down at the small town before her.

Ramana took a step forward. For the first time she entered the world beyond the walls.

Farrell was rudely awoken by the sun glaring in his face. He opened his eyes, squinting and trying to shield himself from the light.

It was bright outside, far too bright for his liking. Farrell sat up, wondering what time in the morning it was. He saw the two women in bed either side of him, and remembered the events of the night before. They were both completely naked beneath the sheets they lay.

Farrell pushed the sheets back so that he could stand, and walking down the bed landed lightly on the wooden floor at the foot of the bed. The women behind him still half asleep frowned in discomfort at the cool morning air against their bare skin. Pulling the sheets back up again to cover themselves and keep them warm, they went back to sleep.

Farrell dressed, throwing several coins on the bed between the sleeping women; he left without a word or backwards glance.

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