The White Queen, J. M. Pohlsander [reading the story of the TXT] 📗

A thick mantle of darkness fell upon the deep expanse of the great gorge that naturally divided the countries Cedaria and Regalia formally known as the Great Divide. To the west a league from the great crossing, a lone, dark, mounted figure stood motionless on the Cedaria side, awaiting the final flames of the setting sun to extinguish into the Westra Ocean. The figure, a tall muscular man sitting on a great stallion, towering over the tall-uncut grass, transfixed his gaze on the edge of the serrated cliff. As he had anticipated, the moon declined to display her divine countenance in the heavens and the darkness, like the chilly spring air, seeped into every pore, every crevasse, even into the very ground, enshrouding him almost entirely into the depths of mystery. His noble mount, impatient as the grave, pined at the earth with his impressive right hoof. At half past midnight, there in the midst of the darkness, came what the man had been so anxiously waiting for. He heard the scraping of metal against rock multiple times. A dozen or so grappling hooks caught at the edge of the divide, followed by grunting and more, less distinct scraping like leather upon stone. The man dismounted and busily looked in his pack for his lantern. After igniting his lantern the man, when the murmurs died down, signaled to the encroaching group, with the signal returned the man remounted and rode toward the edge.

“You’re late Bregain,” said the man patronizingly.

“That’s General to you.” Retorted the man named Bregain.

“Fine, General then. That still doesn’t excuse your tardiness. I was expecting you half an hour ago.”

“Obviously you have never climbed a cliff before.” said Bregain with obvious annoyance.

“Well there is always a time for everything but right now isn’t it. Here is your map to the safe house. Everything is prepared just as we agreed. I will be expecting you at the castle in two weeks. Don’t be late this time General I want this to go as fast as possible and without any mistakes. Don’t disappoint.” The man, after handing over the map turned his steed and rode away without another word.

Bregain murmured under his breath, “Serves me right for trusting traitors they’re always so cocky.” Then to his men, “let’s get moving I want to get to the safe house before dawn.”

He led his band away from the gorge. Examining the map with his light, they walked through the fathoms of darkness toward their ultimate goal, to conquer Cedaria. They finally reached the safe house as the first morning rays of the sun rose from behind the Surral Mountains in the East, illuminating the sky with watery gold and purples. Bregain entered first and just as the traitor said uniforms were stacked on top of a table and the promised weapons stood in a barrel next to it. He motioned for the rest of his men to enter and explored the rest of the house. To the right was a door that led into sleeping quarters and to the left was the eating area. Satisfied with the surroundings he sent two of his men to the stable to take an assessment of their new mounts. The late activities of the night had taken their toll, with a man positioned at each window and the rest given other orders, the General of Regalia retired to his quarters.

Captain Damon Willfree awoke from a deep sleep in the early hours of the morning before the first rays of sun graced the tops of the Surral Mountains. He rose from his bed and opened the shutters to his captain’s quarters. A fresh mountain breeze filled the room with the smell of spring from the valley below. Cedarian Castle built upon a mountain in the North Mountain range soared above the lush, green plains of Cedaria, its great spires and parapets adding to its already colossal splendor stood like giant monuments reaching toward the expansive skies, ancient columns surrounded the inner courtyard and massive Ivory doors lead into the great hall, and throne room. Closing his eyes, Damon breathed in deeply, feeling a little rejuvenated he pulled on a plain leather jerkin over his linen shirt, and brown hose. With a fresh towel draped over his shoulder, he made his way toward the barracks baths. After a quiet, relaxing but invigorating bath, Damon having been well fed during his visit to the kitchens and fully dressed in jerkin, hose, boots, chain mail, and with his sword belted around his waist headed toward the King’s royal compartments.

In his late twenties and the son of one of Cedaria’s retired generals, Damon began his career as an under-guardsman at the age of fifteen and worked his way up the ranks earning the rank of captain. Being born into a rich and aristocratic family and having a general for a father does have its advantages; however, He earned his position by having a keen mind and being what most would suspect of a Captain, a master swordsman. Compared to what many might perceive as to how tall a Captain of the Guard should be; he was a bit shorter. At full height, he was 5’9”. On the subject of Damon’s facial features, he is quite a looker and of course very well bred. His eyes, the color brown, and perfectly placed on his face, were not too far apart and not too close together. He had a noble profile although you could see that his nose had been broken once or twice. Damon also had a strong jaw and his chin, covered with a short goatee, was dimpled. His hair, dark brown, wavy, and grown to shoulder length, was very messy from constantly wearing a helmet. Damon’s physic was excellent. With daily rigorous training in fencing and weightlifting his ever so present shortness was far outweighed by his bulky extremities. He knocked on the door after a few minutes heard a “come in” from inside the room and with the opening of the door stepped in to find the royal family eating breakfast.

“Forgive me your Majesties; I have interrupted your meal.” Damon apologized as he gave a deep bow.

“That is nonsense Captain. You are always a welcome sight. Please have a seat and join us,” exclaimed King Animus obligingly motioning to the empty chair between him and the Princess Alexandra. Queen Emogene who sat next to her husband beamed and nodded her head with agreement.

“Unfortunately I have already eaten.” Explained Damon in a matter of fact way. Princess Alexandra turned just then after demurely swallowing a bit of bacon.

“Surely you can at least sit down for a few moments cousin, unless of course your duties take you elsewhere.” Alexandra, happily smiling, invitingly patted her hand on the velvet-cushioned seat next to her. Although they were not in all actuality cousins, the princess, for some reason only known by her, affectionately called the captain cousin. She was at the age of fifteen and had a more mature and sweet disposition about her than most girls you find of her age. Her birthday a week away, was special for she was coming of age and was eligible by society standards to marry. Alexandra though sweet, had a plain complexion and knowing this always tried to look as immaculate and beautiful as her features would allow. She of course in having a Mother, who was the vision of beauty, had some attractive features. Her hair for instance, dusty-blonde, was long and flowing and when it caught the sunlight, she looked almost angelic. Alexandra’s eyes, a bright blue-green color like the sea, sparkled whenever her silvery and mirthful laugh filled the courtyard. She had a cute little nose and a heart-shaped face. This morning she was wearing her favorite gown, rosy colored brocade with green satin sashes.

“I much prefer to stand your highness. But thank you for the invitation.” The captain nodded in acknowledgment and Alexandra going back to her plate said no more.

“I suppose Captain that a man in your position cannot stay in one spot long. I am glad for it; I do not like a man of idleness. How do you find the weather? Do you think it a fine day for archery?” Inquired Queen Emogene before she took a sip of her water, she was a beautiful creature. Her complexion was fair and her eyes like a clear sky were a deep blue. The Queen’s hair, which was blonde, was long and flowing like her daughters.

“I would have to say your majesty that is a beautiful morning but as it is cloudy it might rain. But of course one cannot be so sure of the weather these days.”

“Very good Captain I think I shall chance it. It has been a week since I last practiced. And as I always say practice makes perfect don’t you think so my dear?” asked the Queen with the question directed at her husband.

“As you have beaten even the best archers in the Cedarian Army, I think it is safe to say that you have perfected the art of archery. I believe you should let the poor men win once in a while.” Answered the king with a large grin on his face, “Dear me! It seems we have been keeping you from your duty Captain was there something in particular that you wanted?” asked the king gravely.

“Only to inform you, that I will be accompanying you today while you go about your day.”

“Ah I see, doing your duty as always. Very well then let us be off.” The king stood and kissing his wife and daughter left the room followed by Captain Damon close behind him after respectfully bowing to the Queen and Alexandra.

Both the Queen and Alexandra stood as two servants held their chairs for them. They walked to the ivory fireplace and sat in two ornate armchairs where they took their morning tea. Queen Emogene took up her needlework, looking up she could see her daughter with a deep thoughtful expression habitually biting her nails.

“Don’t bite your nails dear it makes them look ghastly. Why don’t you pick up your book and read to me?” Alexandra picked up her book and unsoulfully began to read aloud with the same thoughtful expression only this time with her brows more distinctly furrowed. In the middle of an opening sentence of a paragraph, she blurted to no one in particular. “Why is he always like that?”

“Why is whom like what dear?”

“Cousin Damon, he is always so noble and stiff. Why doesn’t he at least smile once in a while?”

“Captain Damon is a military man. They are supposed to