Back in Westmore.
Following the 'formal' briefing to the Princess and Duke, Paris had been closeted with Sir Gryphon and others of the Duke's advisors to sketch out the battle in more military detail. After that, she left to go find Rodric and Cordelia, to pass on their father's messages. When instead she bumped into Lorraine, the little treasure actually curtseyed to her "Sir Paris" before breaking into a hug and squeals of happiness. The two of them found Rod, who was more relieved to hear of his family's safety than bothered by missing his knighting. She told the story again -- what was it now, the fourth time? -- to Cordelia when she came in, leaving out her father's reference to her as his 'little duckling.' It was getting late, and she was looking forward to finally getting back to Jouet Square, getting a well deserved bath and a change of clothes, and, god, she was going to have to find a place to stable her horse...
"Sir Paris, I presume?" The warm voice came from behind her. "I came as soon as I heard."
She turned. "Sir Ewen, I presume?" He was breathing a little hard, having just run through the palace looking for her. Wearing riding clothes. She thought he had probably ridden here from his home. And, she noted, wearing a sword in a shiny new scabbard, hanging from a shiny black belt. There was a bulge on his weapon arm, of a bandage under the sleeve.
"You've got to hear this story, Ewen," Rodric was saying. "She was cut up six ways from Sevenday, ow." He stopped suddenly, looking at his sister. "What was that... oh." His ears started to glow their trademark red.
Lorraine smoothly linked her arm with Rodric's. "If the two of you would like to read your letters, I believe the light is better in the adjoining room," she said, addressing the Givances. She turned to Paris and Ewen. "If you two Lords will excuse us," she said with full dimples, and a perfect demi-curtsey, "I will show them the way and bring them back in a few minutes."
There was a moment of silence as the three of them left. Ewen's eyes never left her. "Paris." he finally said. "I'm so glad you're back. I'm sorry I missed your ceremony."
"And I missed yours -- but Duke Evan told me that you truly distinguished yourself in battle..." She looked at him. He'd survived; she'd survived. It was -- good to be alive. "It -- may sound silly -- but -- I liked hearing him praise you." She glanced at his hidden bandage. "How bad was it?"
"Not as bad as what you went through," he said, eyes taking in her wounds. "We didn't have their battle plans this time, although we had enough warning to get folks assembled and up on the wall. They had a giant and a bunch of other orcs who moved away from the main attack, and the giant started putting orcs up on the wall. I was in one of the flying squads, and had the, um, honor," he grinned, "of being the first one there. Got to fight on the wall, and kept them very busy trying to hit me. I knocked a couple of them off, then had the giant's undivided attention for a while. Until the archers got set up, then it was all over." He stepped closer; one hand reached over to the blackened and broken leather covering her sword arm, and lingered there on her arm. "I hope you weren't wearing this armor when it got damaged. And I really wish I could have seen you knighted. I wanted to see that very, very much." He was standing very, very close again. "But most of all I wanted to see you come back."
"And I, you," she said. "I -- had the feeling you'd be needed here...." Paris lifted her face to his and kissed him softly. "I've never had to face a giant."
"I missed you so," he said, and took her in his arms.
It seemed but a moment later that they heard Lorraine's gay laughter as their friends returned to the room, and they moved apart from each other a barely respectable distance. "I have a perfect idea," Lorraine said brightly. "Let me talk to my parents, but I'm sure they'll agree. We'll have a going away dinner for Rod and Cordelia tomorrow night. I can't see the Princess packing any faster than that. You two come along, I'll invite Jules, and we can hear all about your adventures."
Cordelia smiled. "I understand you took a bard with you. Perhaps he has put the story together and we could hear it?" she said, perfectly nonchalantly.
Paris smiled. "Yes. He performed it for the Princess and the Duke and -- well, I do think it one of his better pieces. Fairly even-handed." She nodded in approval. "I will ask Anton to come perform it for you. It is not a happy story, but it is one that should bring Prince William and Prince Martin their due renown,"
"Sirs" copyright 2000 P.Shea & S.Knowles. The contents of this site are copyright 2004 Sheryl A. Knowles unless otherwise specified. All rights reserved.