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The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5687

Updated: 2018-07-11 19:03

'Poor child' he whispered as she trembled. 'We did not intend for you to see such violence. But it was the only way.'

He had planned ahead of time however, for a friendly presence to greet her and make her feel safe and at ease. A woman.

'Beatrice!' he called. 'Beatrice?'

'I'm coming my lord' came a female voice.

A plump woman came plodding over the lip of the hill, struggling down to the road below she made her way laboriously towards the horse Amaia sat. Stepping over the dead bodies with distain in her expression, she moved holding the bottom of her skirt up so that it wouldn't get brushed in blood. She stopped beside the stallion, smiling widely up at Amaia as the beast stood still.

'Hello child. There's no need to be afraid, we are not here to hurt you. We are your friends.'

'Where's mother?' Amaia sobbed, her voice breaking.

'Shhh' Beatrice cooed. 'Poor baby. Come down from that horse. I'll look after you.'

Amaia did not have time to protest however, as Beatrice stood on her tip toes to lift Amaia off the horse, holding her under her arms.

Amaia was placed on the ground, staring up uncertainly at the fat smiling face of this stranger.

Tristan approached from behind Beatrice, staring intently down at Amaia in a way she didn't like.

'Gods you look just like your mother' he breathed. 'Amaia…'

'Do not worry child' Beatrice told her, taking her hand and leading her away. 'You will be taken somewhere safe and looked after.'

'I want to go home' Amaia pleaded. 'Where is father?'

'No dear' Beatrice said to her. 'I'm afraid you can't go back home. It's not safe for you.'

Tristan watched as Beatrice led Amaia away, escorted silently by several of his men, armed with swords and bows. They mounted their own horses, chestnut mares.

'Be careful' he told all of them. 'Get there quickly and safely, and don't stop for anything.'

'Don't worry my lord' Beatrice said back to him, sitting atop a horse with Amaia in the saddle before her. 'She's in safe hands now.'

Tristan watched the small band ride away, feeling a sense of longing, and a strong desire to follow them. But he had other concerns.

'Your highness.'

The voice snapped Tristan out of his thoughts.

'Yes?' he replied to one of his scouts.

'There is something you might want to see further down the road, in the direction the riders came from.'

Tristan mounted his pure white mare, setting off down the road he followed the scout. When he reached the place, there was sorrow in his heart. A dead soldier lay there, his face covered by a helmet, and further down the road, a woman who had been murdered.

Tristan shook his head, dismounting to examine the dead soldier briefly. He had no injuries on him, and nothing to indicate what might have killed him.

'How do you think he died?' a scou

t, one of several that examined the body asked.

'I've seen this before' Tristan replied solemnly, 'people dropping dead for no obvious reason.' He stared down at the man. 'My mother has done this to people herself, before she…' he broke off.

'What happened to him?' the scout asked.

'His heart' Tristan went on, 'has frozen.'

'Frozen?' the scout exclaimed. 'How could such a thing happen?'

Tristan glanced sadly at the woman lying further down the road.

'They must have thought Amaia did this.'

He approached the woman lying on her back, sorrow overflowing within him.

'Tragic' he said. 'It's so tragic; to see one so innocent, suffer such a cruel end.'

The wound in her chest had stopped bleeding, and the blood was beginning to crust.

'She's so beautiful' Tristan sighed gloomily.

He bowed his head, sending over her a quick prayer, so that her soul might reach the afterlife with ease.

'Come' he said abruptly to his men when he was done. 'We should leave.'

Chapter Fifty One


Amaia was on the ground now, holding her knees up against her chest with her face buried in her folded arms.

'I always thought my mother might still be alive' she sobbed, 'that I might see her someday. I never found out what happened to her. I didn't know if she had been hurt...' Amaia brushed away her tears, rising again to her feet. 'I was so terrified' she said. 'I remember hearing the blood pumping in my ears as I ran. For years after I hoped that she would find me, that I would see her again someday.'

'Perhaps she is still alive' White Feather offered. 'Perhaps she's at your home…waiting for you.'

'For years I wished to believe that.' Amaia turned back to White Feather with a sad smile. 'It's the one thing that's kept me going for all these years. The thought of seeing my parents again. In my life I've never wanted anything else in the world more, than to be reunited with them, and to tell them how much I love them, and how much I have missed them.' Amaia let out a heavy sigh. 'But…' she continued sadly. 'The years have stretched on, and on. I have often thought of escape from this place. But there is no way to escape. The servants have to pass through many many doors to leave this place, and there are guards all around. They stand around like empty suits of armour, with their big helmets, and sharp weapons, their faces always covered…. I believe they are here for my protection as much as they are for my imprisonment. I have thought of escape, but I have not been able to go even as far as attempting it. This palace is a fortress. I'm not even allowed outside, and all the rooms I am allowed in…well…you would not survive a fall from any of the windows. And even if I could somehow get outside……the gardens are guarded also, and the gates around this property are tall.'

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