Weekend Writer's Retreat - 54

For the first twelve scenes posted for the Weekend Writer's Retreat, we followed Scorpius as a seven-year-old, fetched from the nursery by a falconer to become his apprentice.

The next twelve scenes followed ten-year-old Scorpius as he discovered the dangers of serving the nobles he'd once imagined were family.

The third set of twelve scenes gave us a thirteen-year-old Scorpius, who discovered the true extent of his master's attempts to shield him from the cruelties of life outside their falconer's cottage.

We rejoin him at age sixteen.

You can follow the progress of this story arc by clicking on the Works in Progress link just under the blog header.


Scene 54

Lord Thibault squirmed restlessly on the falconer’s bed, soft sounds of distress escaping into the little room. Tiny bumps erupted over Scorpius’ skin as he tried to sense the position of the guard outside, poised beneath the window.

The young noble’s face lined with pain, his body stiffening as he coughed. Then for the first time in a day and a night, his eyes opened.

Scorpius’ heart swelled with relief, though his fingers gripped the concealed knife handle even tighter.

Gaze roaming the unfamiliar room, Lord Thibault at last settled upon Scorpius’ face. Tension fell away as he smiled a wan smile.

Scorpius leaned forward, placing a hand on the noble’s hot brow, watching Lord Thibault’s lips working to form Scorpius’ name.

The noble’s thready voice became an urgent whisper.

But it was a female’s voice – “Scorpius!”

Cocking his head, certain he must be hearing things, Scorpius caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye. Shiny hair smoothed back into a complex design followed by a finely-woven cloak rose up over the window ledge.

Scorpius surged forward to grasp the shoulders of the woman who slid down into the room. Kneeling to follow her descent, breaking her fall as well as he was able, Scorpius grunted as she turned with speed and force, pinning him to the ground.

Her fingers pressed hard against his lips.

Scorpius looked up into her eyes - and lay still.

It was Ingerith.

She saw his realization and relaxed her grip on his mouth. Scorpius’ chest seized with emotion as she held a single finger before her lips. She waited until he nodded before climbing off of him.

Lord Thibault, too weak to defend himself, pushed upright in the bed as far as he was able, holding his gaze steady if this was to be his last breath.

Thrusting a hand out to grab Ingerith’s skirts, Scorpius held up his other hand to stop her. Scrambling to his knees, he sought Lord Thibault’s gaze.

Then he looked up at his master’s lover, who had helped Scorpius to mend Richolf’s broken body after he’d been put to the question. Taking her hand in his, gazing over at Lord Thibault to be sure he watched, Scorpius bowed his head before her hand and then kissed it.

Ingerith looked down at him, her face flushed with emotion. The gaze they shared could only reach between two people who have made terrible memories together.

Swallowing hard against them, Scorpius took her hand and moved it towards the bed, gesturing towards Lord Thibault with the other.

Nodding deeply twice, Scorpius saw the young noble’s recognition of their offer. Lord Thibault relaxed and slid back along the pillow, again coughing painfully.

Crawling as quietly as he could, Scorpius grabbed up the ointment prepared by the apothecary’s assistant and offered it to Ingerith. She brought it to her nose to discern its contents, dipped a finger in and rubbed the mixture between her fingers to get a feel for it.

Then she jerked her head forward to call for his assistance. Working together in silent swiftness, Ingerith and Scorpius peeled back the previous dressings on Lord Thibault’s wound.

When it was treated, and before they let him collapse, Ingerith slipped a glass vial from her pocket, uncorked the lid, and tipped a mouthful into the young noble’s mouth.

He downed it without complaint other than a sour face. Ingerith turned to Scorpius and made gestures to indicate different positions of the sun in the sky, then counted out how many doses Lord Thibault must take.

Scorpius accepted the vial with a bowed head. She had once crossly forbid him to call her a lady, but these gestures of respect were the only ways he could think of to signal his understanding.

His heart leapt wildly when she pulled him close to her chest and placed a long kiss on the back of his head. Her skirts rustled, and when he looked up she was already being pulled back up through the window by the guard still waiting outside.

In a heartbeat she was gone, the only indication she’d ever been here being the glass vial in Scorpius’ hand, and the tinge of color finally returning to Lord Thibault’s cheeks.

© Julia Smith, 2011

Weekend Writers Retreat - 45

Here's the latest installment of Scorpius' boyhood back story.

Scorpius is a character from my dark fantasy work in progress. For the first twelve scenes posted for the Weekend Writer's Retreat, we follow him as a seven-year-old, fetched from the nursery by a falconer to become his apprentice.

The next twelve scenes follow ten-year-old Scorpius as he discovers the dangers of serving the nobles he'd once imagined were family.

The third set of twelve scenes give us a thirteen-year-old Scorpius, who discovers the true extent of his master's attempts to shield him from the cruelties of life outside their falconer's cottage.

We rejoin him at age sixteen.

You can follow the progress of this story arc by clicking on the Works in Progress link just under the blog header.


Scene 45

Scorpius grabbed at her skirt as she rose, but Alegreza darted just out of reach. Her giggle filled the secluded grove where the last bites of a delicious meal remained on the cloth spread beneath the trees.

Richolf and Ingerith already clapped a merry tune, so Scorpius joined in as Alegreza danced for them. Ingerith hummed and Alegreza spun, her quick little feet tapping an irresistible rhythm.

She flashed her legs now and then with a deft twist of her hands upon her skirts, shooting glances at Scorpius that sent the heat to his face. Ingerith got the same looks, however, so they must be a part of the dance. Still, an odd feeling came over him that his master and his lover should be witness to them.

When she finished, everyone clapped and laughed in delight. Alegreza flopped down on the forest floor beside him, catching her breath. She glanced at him but looked to Ingerith, who nodded.

Richolf rose slowly to his feet as his old injuries protested. “I feel like a walk just now,” he said, catching Scorpius’ eye.

Indeed, the two women bent their heads together in whispered conversation. Scrambling awkwardly to his feet, Scorpius joined his master along the path which had brought them here for this dreamlike afternoon.

“Are they…?” Scorpius said.

Nodding, Richolf left it at that until they were well out of hearing range. Then he stopped short and looked Scorpius squarely in the eye. “I know it’s all happening rather quickly,” he said.

Scorpius’ stomach knotted up. “Ingerith found a position for her.”

The expression on his master’s face did nothing to reassure Scorpius. “She may have. Everything depends upon the patron, and whether Alegreza is suitable.”

Fear for the market girl reared up in Scorpius' chest, scattering the laughter of their outing like a whirlwind. Words and questions caught in his throat, words he dare not speak. If he remained silent, the images that sprang to his mind might yet be beaten back.

“In a few days time, a noble will come to us for a hunt,” Richolf said. “He will also collect Alegreza – if she pleases him.”

Scorpius turned away, the memory of his master’s lover in the arms of another man blinding him. All of the secrecy, the notes passed through third parties, Ingerith’s threats that she would discover the names of the men responsible for torturing her beloved – all of it made sense in a flood of clarity.

“But does she know?” he said. “Does she understand where she would be going?”

“She already knows,” Richolf said sadly.

“There’s nothing else she could do?” Scorpius said, his voice tight with emotion. ‘Did Ingerith even inquire?”

“She wouldn’t make this offer lightly.” A tone of warning rose in his master’s voice.

Scorpius ignored it. The hammering of his pulse drove all caution from his mind. “I can inquire, sir. Let me go to the estate.”

“I told you she’s aware of the offer.” Richolf’s face darkened.

The remains of Alegreza’s kisses clung to Scorpius’ skin, driving him to blurt out, “But sir, you’re not giving her a chance!”

His master grabbed him roughly by the arms, pulling him close. “What sort of chance do you think she’d have if she was a housemaid? You don’t remember what it was like for those slave girls they brought out here?”

Scorpius returned Richolf’s burning gaze. “I do remember, sir. Yet you send her to the very same fate, only in finer clothing.”

Richolf shoved him away so that Scorpius stumbled and nearly lost his footing. “Ingerith enjoys some portion of power over herself. That is more than most penniless market girls with no families could hope for. So you would do well to thank Ingerith for going through the considerable trouble to procure this patron for Alegreza.”

Biting back more words, Scorpius nodded, his helplessness burning behind his eyes like tears. He too had no family, only a master with a courtesan for a lover.

© Julia Smith, 2011