The Bee's Nest

It’s funny the things that you learn, not just about yourself, but in general when you get into a new environment. Looking back it’s been something else. I’ve been in Lithmore for three months. It’s been seven months since I got the notice from my mother and left the front. I never expected my life to be like this at all.

Friendships. I never thought I would be able to find the friends that I have here, it’s been surprising to me. Not that I didn’t expect to find people I could relate to, but I’ve always been living closely with those that I befriended, we work together, we fight together… it builds a level of camaraderie that you just don’t get usually. It is natural to get close to them, something I don’t find here. Yet here I am in Lithmore with new friends and acquaintances.

Katarina was perhaps the first person I began to get close to. She’s helped me so much, I owe her in more ways than I can count. I am fond of her, she engages me on so many different levels. I am lucky to have met her. I wish I could do more for her to repay the kindness that she has shown me. Though I really cannot complain when I get the small presents from her that I have been getting. I need to think of something to get her for Yule.

Ariel, perhaps the biggest surprise of them all. He was a Regency candidate and really we didn’t have much in common really. He is a very politically savvy person, I have the political savvy of a rock, or at least I thought so. he even admitted to me that at first he just saw me as a titled noble, someone valuable to get the support of for the Regency. Yet somehow it has become something more; a fast friendship. It is unexpected to say the least, but it is enjoyable. I feel it bringing out my youth a lot more, something I haven’t done in a long time. For heaves sake he’s got me thinking of ways to pull pranks now. It’s not a bad thing, it’s nice actually, relaxing.

Karrina is an interesting one. A companion much more in line with what I am used to, just without the fighting alongside each other yet bit at least. She’s hard to read sometimes, as I can be at times I suppose. I’m not sure if I’m bothering her ot not, though recently we had a nice long talk. We discussed our pasts and it was nice, it was good. I am not sure if it is a real friendship yet, but it seems to be on its way there.

In general there are a lot of people that I have met that have been great. The Grand Master is great, though I haven’t spent much time with them. Master dul Cavallari seems a good sort, though I haven’t seen much of him. I worry that he might resent that I forgot to tell him I was a Count at first.  Master ab Broderick, the owner of the Bluebird is a good sort, though I feel reminded of being a nobleman all the more when speaking with him. The Earl Marshall is very hard to read, I am still uncertain there. I haven’t spoken to Lady de Versin in a while… and now I am just rambling, more and more people… it’s not nearly the nest of vipers that I had been warned of. I know there are dangers, I still need to be careful, but it isn’t so bad.

That said, it could well get a lot more complicated and dangerous. I am not your standard noble. I joined the knights at nine, I’ve been a soldier, not a politician. I didn’t expect to inherit, I wasn’t meant to be count. I’ve been the Count for seven months and Ariel… the new Regent, he wants me to be his High Steward. It’s stunning to say the least. I have wanted to help raise the profile of my family, but never expected to do it in such a way. The problem is, I just joined the Knights once more. If I become High Steward, I have to take a leave from the Knights once more. I don’t want to burn those bridges, the Knights are a part of me and I wish to return to it after the period as High Steward ends. I need to hear from the Earl Marshall and Grand Master first, before I decide. The letters have been sent, now I just wait anxiously. I don’t know what they will say…

Do I have what it takes?

I awoke with a start, my heart racing, my head spinning. Screams, I thought I heard screaming. My blankets fall about my waist and I reach over for my sword, but my hand closes on empty air. Where did my sword go? I look around at the stone room and blink to myself as the familiar site of my bedroom in Castle Jinosa fills my vision. Why was I going for a sword? Father wouldn’t let me have a sword. I asked and asked but he kept putting me off. 

Birthday.

That’s right, it’s my birthday. Perhaps today he would finally give me that sword I’ve wanted. Maybe that’s what woke me up, I was dreaming about finally getting a sword, going off on some adventure. I could have sworn I was in Lithmore its self. Perhaps there as some great hero, celebrated by all.

I toss my blankets to the side and sit up on the edge of the bed. I lift my legs, pulling my knees to my chest several times, my rhythm practiced like I had done this for ages, warming myself up before I start my day. But why am I doing that? I’ve never done that before? I shake my head with confusion. I mustn’t let Mother know about this. She worries so much. It’ll be like last year when I wanted to go out to the woods with Lucas. If she can’t find me, she won’t be able to stop me.

I hastily throw on my clothes, leaving my hat behind, conveniently. Death to hats. I tear my way out of my room and throw open Siras’ door and peer in to find that he has gone. Oh well, he’s probably with his nose in the books. I run out to try and find Brandon. He was always more fun to spend time with anyway. He had a sword. He always got the best of everything.

I frown to myself and look around, his room is empty too. Was the hall empty too? I can’t remember. Ah well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll just head to the stables. I blink and find myself holding a saddle. My hand runs over the hard leather and I stand there for a few moments before I remember myself and step forward to saddle my horse. This much I knew often enough. Lucas worked in the stables. Works. It feels like ages since I’ve seen him.

I am just finishing securing the saddle when Siras’ voice comes from outside. “There is a Knight here.” I look up and over at him and in my best imitation of Brandon I tell him, “Of course there is a Knight here, there are lots of Knights here. They train here.” 

“This one has come to take you away,” Siras taunts. He had been doing that for weeks. “I heard them talking. They are going to feed you to the Daravi.” I felt my anger welling up inside of me. I couldn’t control it. “They don’t love you, you aren’t any use to them, that’s what they do to third sons,” he taunted me again. This always happened. I couldn’t remember where it started if I hit him first or he taunted me first. Him with his words and brain, me with my fists and muscles.

I threw myself at him, knocking him off of his feet and sending whatever book he had that week scattered into the dirt. There was no form, there was no style, just raw child anger and frustration as my little fists swung into him again and again. I felt a sharp stab of pain as he kicked me and then started tugging on my hair. We rolled in the dirt, over something that mother would hope is dirt, but wasn’t until a bellow ripped the air.

“What is the meaning of this.” I barely had time to register fathers voice before I felt a hand that certainly wasn’t his, for it was bound by gauntlets grab the back of my shirt and heft me up as if I were nothing. My eyes lifted and there before me was a bearded face, alien, yet so familiar. Without hearing it I knew his name, Sir Anthony ab Warthop. Why did I know him?

I’m on my knees, sand coursing around me, biting through the cloth I had wrapped about my face. Sir ab Warthop in my arms, his face charred. Where were the god damned medics? This storm, this accursed storm and those damned Daravi. Hold on, hold on damn you. But I knew it was too late, my Knight Master was gone.

I blink and look into the face, so much younger and I turn to look to my father. He was speaking to me. “… is going to take you to train you. You are going to be his page.” I shake my head this wasn’t right. I don’t want to go. I don’t want you to go.

I am shaken awake and a squire stands above me, a letter in his hands. “From Vees, my Lord. Post just arrived.” I ease myself up, my hand coming to my side. I was back in a hospital. I had taken a spear to the side. It was almost healed. I would be going back to the fighting soon. Shaking my head I broke the seal and absently glance at the name. Mother? Did Siras finally get married? I read on and my heart sank

Dead, they are all dead. I hastily look to the ground where I had been fighting Siras. He lay there now, his face ghostly pale, looking up at me with accusing eyes. “Siras, my brother… I am so sorry…” Movement to the side. Brandon, tall strong, everything I idolized, now shriveled and weak, his face pale, his eyes sunken and lifeless save the hatred within. Father, skin ragged, disappointment full on his face. “Why have you abandoned us?” his voice, dry as the grave fills my ears.

“I haven’t, Father, Brothers I am doing my best…” I protest, but the weight of their judgement weighs in on me. I feel I am being crushed. My breath goes from my lungs. I struggle for every gasp of breath. The darkness closes in around me.

With a snap of my head I wake up, panting for breath. Sweat drenches my body and I look out through the window as the morning light filters in. My hand reaches over and I feel the reassuring grip of my blade. Just a dream. Just a dream.

I rub the side of my face and throw my blankets to the side as I move to sit on the edge of the bed. My legs lift, my knees going to my chest once, twice, three times… I repeat this until I reach twenty and then I relax. My gaze wonders to the bed stand and I see the letter. For a moment my heart freezes cold. But as the sleep leaves me I remember, it was just from my mother. Wishing me a happy birthday.

I pick up the letter and look it over sadly, a frown filling my features. I want to be happy, I have been happy, but I let myself be distracted. Slowly I set the letter back down and turn my gaze to the window, staring out at the new day, bright and hopeful. I feel as if I am caught on the cusp. But how do I find that balance, so I don’t topple over?

Is this what politics is? Meetings, over and over and over again. I think I’ve spent more time behind closed doors here than I have anywhere else before. Not that it is all bad, I really shouldn’t complain, it’s just so much of an adjustment. I am used to going for rides, walking, patrolling and getting outside. I can feel my muscles getting weaker, my coordination getting off. I completely embarrassed myself the times that I have sparred with people here. I felt the fool for it, but that’s stupid of me to think that way. It’s just foolish pride.

The meetings haven’t all been bad. It’s been educational. I feel like a child trying to learn to walk for the first time through so many of them. Especially meeting with the candidates for the Regency. Some of them are quite elegant and quite well spoken, you can tell how used they are to the trials of politics. Others… even I can tell that there are issues. I don’t wish any of them ill, but ever so slowly as I speak with them, I get an impression that I just don’t think that they would be suitable.

I don’t know how often I’ve been asked if i was to be a candidate. I couldn’t help but laugh the first time I was asked about that. Me a candidate? I have barely been Count of Vees for five months now. I don’t understand politics well enough in general as it is. Putting me up there would be a joke. I don’t desire the power at all, it doesn’t hold any sort of appeal to me. The only way I would ever consider such a thing is if there truly was no other candidate that I could support and that just isn’t the case. Even then I would struggle to reach such a solution.

I’ve had the future of Vees brought up to me several times. I am without an heir apparent. There are cousins that it could go to, if something were to happen to me, or my mother could take over for a time. I need to see about an heir before too long, it is important to my County that I do so. This is admittedly new to me. I’ve never concerned myself with romance or anything like that and am unsure of how to handle it. There is someone who has caught my eye, I’ve acted the fool at times and once again find myself feeling like I am lost in the woods, not sure what to do. I pray that i can find a way out for myself soon, not because I don’t wish to pursue it, but more that I can find clarity in what to do.

Throughout so much of this, my time in Lithmore I’ve felt lost and confused with myself. The Knights were a constant for me, they were my rock, my guidance, I knew where I was with them. I have pondered it and discussed it with several people, some I feel I have begun to grow close to. I finally decided to rejoin the Knights. Others ask me why, keep warning me I will have to start over again. It’s not the rank of Knight that concerns me, it isn’t prestige. it is the service. When i am training to be a Knight, when I serve I feel more confident in myself. I know what I am doing, I feel like I have purpose. I think that by doing this I can hold onto some more of my sanity as I try and learn my way through politics. In time I won’t need that comforting guidance, like a child with a blanket, yet still… I will feel like I am doing what I was meant to do. It will feel right. I will find the balance within my life.

Four months… has it really just been four months? It is hard to believe that it has only been four months. Each day since I heard the news has dragged on incalculably long. Yet somehow I am caught in the feeling that it has all been moving  too fast. A trip home, I didn’t even make it in time for the funeral, summer was coming and as far south as we were, there was no helping it. Three new graves.

I’ve had friends die before. One doesn’t serve on the front for long and not lose people. But this bites all the deeper, even though I hadn’t seen them in ages. It wasn’t even raining when  I visited their graves. Somehow I felt that it should have been. It was bitter, only my mothers tears to wet the ground. She’s allowed to show her grief. I had the duty now. No day of grief should be so beautiful. I hated it. I hated them.

I never wanted this. I wasn’t one of those who envied their elder brothers. I liked what I was doing. I had a purpose in my life a higher cause.  I resent them. And I hate myself for it. I love them. I hate myself more for my feelings. I hate those who did this to them. Bandits? How could they get past the guard so easily, target them so ruthlessly? I’ll avenge them. Somehow, someway I will find who did this to them. I miss them. I’ll honor their memories as best I can.

Lord help me, I wasn’t made for this.