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by SusanM Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · History · #850770
Their stories have been lost over time, but once, they lived and loved here…
Tales of a Lost Age

And so it came to pass that young Annarin was spirited away from the devastating destruction of the home she’d known and brought into the lower country through Mercia and onward toward the sea. As a bride her mother had left the safety of this place to make her home at her husband’s side, up into the wilderness of the North Country. Though she came to love the remote and often unforgiving land the Melanafee had held for generations, she secretly kept her girlhood home close in heart, longing one day to return. She’d been robbed of her chance, leaving her daughter to make the journey in her place.

Barely of marriageable age, Annarin drew notice wherever she went, for she was tall and striking, with long blonde hair and sparkling blue-violet eyes, her mother’s eyes. Only days before those eyes had shone with the joy of security, but the sudden, savage destruction of all she’d known had replaced this with the stunned, shattered look of one who had seen too much. Her world had been ripped apart in the space of a sunny afternoon and she’d found herself at once lost and alone, haunted by the garish, blood soaked images of an unprovoked attack. She’d watched as childhood friends were heartlessly butchered; her father, fighting valiantly, was taken down by the ax of a Norsemen’s blade; and her mother suffered the indignities of capture with all the bearing at her command.

It was this brave spirit that came to aid the Lady Audra as she seized upon her only chance to spare her daughter the life that awaited the prisoners of the victors. With all haste and cunning, she gathered the few keepsakes kept from the plunder and secreted them among the things Annarin would take with her. There was time for a last, heartfelt embrace and a few whispered words, a prayer and then she was given into the hands of the most loyal of her father’s men. Donegan, a well-tested warrior of many years took command of the girl and the small force that swore a blood oath to deliver her safely into the hands of her mother’s kin.

It would be a difficult and treacherous journey under the best of circumstances, but with the hostile force so close at hand, the danger was tenfold. The pitch-black sky was tinged red, blood red, and the terrible sounds of the victory celebration echoed through the familiar wood, mocking them. Battle-scarred and weary, the men used every skill they possessed to make the escape, silent and sure over land they knew so well.

Four days had come and gone since they put the higher terrain behind them and moved into the fertile valleys of the lowlands. Travelling by day, they made a slow progress along the Dyke named for the indomitable leader who built it, though they kept their distance from the people settled there, remaining in the unspoiled wilderness. Here the creatures of the forest watched with wide, silent eyes as the soldiers and the lone girl passed through lands untouched.

Annarin spent much of the journey at Donegan’s side, finding some measure of comfort in the company of her father’s most loyal man. Seated securely atop the only mount they’d been able to retrieve from the stables, her wide eyes moved over the landscape with growing curiosity. She’d never been so far from home before, and something of the adventure of it called to her youthful spirit. So many of the stories she’d been told came alive in the silence of the woods, and she wondered at what she would find at the end of this journey. Timid but hopeful, her heart beat steadily in her chest as she gazed wide-eyed at the view suddenly and most unexpectedly revealed to them at the top of a small rise.

Here was a valley of lush green, spring bursting forth to clothe the land in vibrant color, purple heather and patches of wildflowers reaching up into a cloudless sky. At some distance they could make out the smoke of the chimney fires from a settlement that Donegan, who had made the journey once before, knew as a sign they had entered Wessex. It would be but a few days more before they would reach the lands held by Lady Audra’s widowed sister, Annarin’s only surviving blood kin.

It was at Eddington that they used what coin they had to secure room and board for the night, a welcome shelter from a driving rain that had been falling steadily through the afternoon. Though small, the inn was well-kept and offered Annarin a private room where she could bathe and take her rest. There were fresh clothes to be had too, and Donegan took care in choosing a simple linen gown of deep blue to present to the girl. For the first time since that terrible day, Annarin’s eyes flickered with something akin to interest as she beheld the garment, impulsively hugging the wizened soldier before dashing back into her room. This alone served to soften his heart, and he found himself most pleased when she came down to dinner, the bearing of her mother in every line of her as she joined the men at the long wooden table.

Revived by a night’s rest, the party continued their journey heading east into the rising sun. Gone was the wooded wilderness, the lowlands well traveled and thickly settled by people who cast uneasy glances toward the party of fighting men and the striking girl who passed among them. Travel over the aging roads was easier, lending speed to the journey, and in short order they had reached the outskirts of Winchester, where Donegan felt certain there would be news of Annarin’s kin.

As with all the rest, spring green had come to take firm hold of this place, bursting forth everywhere in abundance, surrounding the buildings that had been built and rebuilt over the years. Annarin gazed about, her eyes moving from the cottages to the fertile land, some with animals grazing upon it, other patches bearing the mark of newly tilled earth. Rising up into the cloudless sky, the imposing gray turrets of a stately manor house stood tall and proud, watching over those in the settlement below. Annarin was at once overcome by an undeniable feeling of familiarity — some part of her knew this place, knew it and loved it still.

Donegan guided the horse along the well-worn streets of the settlement, leading the party past the furtive glances of those who were about. Though none had the nerve to approach, he kept a hand close to his dagger, watchful and ready. At last the street opened into a central square, surrounded by well kept cottages, children playing happily on the dusty cobbles. Watchful mothers kept their eyes fixed upon the small group as they came to a halt, and Donegan lifted Annarin from her place atop the horse, setting her carefully on her feet. "Come down and stretch a bit."

She offered no argument, sending him an expectant look. "Do you suppose they shall know of my aunt?"

"I expect someone will have news of her." He told her, his tone carrying a certainty he was far from feeling. In truth, he relied on memories of a similar journey a lifetime ago to guide him now. In those days it had been Caedmon and Audra who were young and facing the danger of uncertain times — now it was a daughter of their blood who moved forward, toward an unknown future with a family she barely knew. He thrust the troubling thoughts aside, his gaze moving to take in the three others who came to join them, and the mantle of command settled upon him. "I’ll begin at the inn, you men stay here with Lady Annarin."

"Aye sir."

Donegan turned to the girl, watching the troubled look that came to light her extraordinary eyes, and his heart went out to her. "Wait here with the men and I’ll see what I might learn at the inn."

She managed a smile, looking for all the world like the most fragile of things, and he sent her a last look before striding off in the direction of what looked to be a place where lodgings could be had. The men came to stand with the girl, their eyes moving over the scene, curious and intent. Everyday life went on undisturbed, though those who had cause to be out and about made every effort to keep their distance from the group of strangers who remained watchful where they were.

Anxious for something to occupy her as she waited, Annarin moved to stand before the horse, stroking the creature’s soft nose with gentle, affectionate hands. The animal responded immediately — the exchange making her think unexpectedly of the many helpless creatures she’d left untended at home. She bit her lip, fighting back tears as the longing for home came once more, sharp and fresh.

It was in this moment that Kiel of Abingdon was to lay eyes on the girl who would change everything for him. The sunlight glinted off the spun gold highlights of her hair as she stood with all the bearing of greatness, and he could not look away. He watched as she brushed tears aside with an impatient hand, her over-bright gaze moving about the street. Without realizing it, he’d directed his spirited stallion toward the small party and the lone animal at its center. Distracted by efforts to compose herself, she did not see him approach until he came up alongside her, "I bid you welcome to Winchester."

She glanced up, startled by the sound of his voice, at once aware of his size, his strength and her own vulnerability. There was something about him… something she could not name but that compelled her to watch as he leapt from his horse and came to stand before her. Tall and broad, he was some years older than she, though still young and fit, his flashing green eyes those of a man who’d had his wits tested and prevailed. Her breath stilled and she met his steady gaze for a moment that was endless and all too short at the same time before she found her voice. "T – thank you."

"We ask that you keep your distance from our lady stranger."

Keil pulled his gaze from the girl to the warrior who had spoken, his eyes fixed steadily upon the younger man, steely and without fear, a hand resting casually on the blade strapped to his leg. "I meant not to offend — "

The sound of breaking glass and the angry, insistent voices that followed cut through the hum of everyday noises, startling the high spirited horse that few but Keil could manage. Frightened, the animal immediately began to back away, rearing as it met the resistance of its master’s hand. The mount Annarin had hold of shied away as well, catching her off guard and sending her flying toward the cobbles. Reaching out, Kiel slipped a powerful arm under her, lifting her into his protective embrace. Safely shielded from the frightened animals, she buried her head against his strong shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he worked to bring his horse under control. The sound lulled her and she relaxed against him.

At his shout, several of the men-at-arms who’d been about the day’s business came to lend a hand in quieting the startled horses. The men defending Annarin took firm hold of their own steed, far easier to manage than the jet-black stallion of the other man. Kiel held the girl tight to him until he was certain the danger had passed, only then loosening his grip and looking down at her. "Are you hurt?"

"N – no, not at all." She replied softly, strangely out of breath, unnerved by the feeling it was to be held in his arms.

"Shall I bring Hunter out back, my lord?" One of the men asked, holding the mount with steady, sure hands. His gaze moved from the strangers who stood by a well-worn mount to the girl who remained cradled in his commander’s arms. She was most pleasing to look at, he thought, sending an admiring glance from the top of her blonde head and over the blue travelling gown that seemed to have molded itself to her gentle curves. Very lovely indeed.

Kiel caught the look that shone in the other man’s eyes, "Mind your place Ewan." He growled, setting Annarin on her feet with all care before continuing more mildly. "Yes, bring him out back and tell the hands to expect another animal as well."

Ewan nodded, a flush creeping over his weathered cheeks at the admonishment of his commander. Keil pretended not to notice, turning his attention to the other men. "If you will permit it, I will offer oats and watering for your own horse — as a gesture of atonement for Hunter’s bad manners."

The three exchanged glances, mutually agreed. "We thank you for that sir, and your cool head in protecting our lady."

It occurred to Keil in that moment that he did not know the girl’s name, and he could hear his mother’s admonishment at his bad manners. "I am only too happy to help. I am Keil of Abingdon, at your service."

"And we are the last surviving sworn men of Caedmon, and this, the Lady Annarin." They told him. "We have journeyed from the north in search of the land held by a daughter of Earmon, the last of our lady’s kin."

The simple words, somberly spoken and the haunted look that clouded Annarin’s eyes told Keil much, his warrior’s heart knowing all too well the horrors inflicted by the barbaric Norsemen. "My sincere sympathies my lady."

Annarin swallowed hard, forcing her tone to remain composed, dignified as Mother would have wanted. "Thank you sir."

Keil, frustrated at not knowing what to say next, turned to the men, "A daughter of Earmon you say?"

The men glanced toward the inn where Donegan had disappeared moments before, "She is sister to our lady’s mother Audra, and holds lands outside of Winchester… a small place that stands before a bend in the road."

"I know such a place. It is the home of Lady Githa, a daughter of Earmon."

It was an unexpected bit of good fortune, and the men nodded to each other, glad to have Donegan’s confidence rewarded. "She is the one we seek."

"A noble and valuable allay she has been these many years." Keil answered, glancing to Annarin, who stood silent and listening. "It will be my pleasure to see you to her door, and your charge into her keeping."

Before any reply could be made, Keil motioned to another of the men-at-arms who was ready and waiting some distance off. Detaching himself from a group of his fellows, the man came to stand before them, "Frederic, bring this animal out to the stables, they are expecting him." He turned to the three strangers, "If you will permit me, I will see that you have a midday meal before we make our way to Lady Githa."

He was a man used to being obeyed, and it was this bearing and air of confidence that silenced any objection Annarin’s guards might have put forth. Falling into step behind the pair, the men watched as Keil took hold of Annarin’s arm, leading her in the direction Donegan had gone moments before. There was something comforting, familiar almost, in the way he had taken command of the situation, and she, like the guards, offered no objection as he steered her toward the bustling inn. Once inside, Annarin’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim interior after the brightness of the street. When she could see again, she was startled to find many pairs of eyes settled upon her and her companion. The innkeeper stepped from his place behind the bar, coming toward the two.

"Lord Kiel." He greeted, his tone conveying a clear measure of respect. "It is a pleasure to see you. Who is this charming creature you are escorting this day?"

Kiel glanced to Annarin, "She is Annarin, niece to Lady Githa, newly arrived."

The innkeeper glanced to the road-weary man who had been standing before him. "So this is the lady of whom you speak?" And at the other man’s nod, he returned his attention to Lord Keil and the girl. She bore the fair complexion and sunbeam light hair of her kin, and he could not help but wonder if she possessed any of their other gifts. More poised than one of her years should be, he thought. "Your man here was just telling of your narrow escape from the barbarians."

Donegan, who had been watching the exchange intently, stepped forward then, removing his cap in deference, for even a stranger knew at once Kiel commanded respect. "I have brought the Lady Annarin these many miles at the bidding of her mother Audra, daughter of Earmon. It is my sworn oath to see her safely into the care of her mother’s sister, Lady Githa. m’lord."

"You men have told me as much." Keil nodded, gesturing to the three who stood behind him, "You too are her sworn man?"

A shadow passed over the warrior’s worn features, though his voice was firm, "That I am m’lord."

Keil saw plainly that his loyalty was genuine, "You have served honorably. Refresh yourself as my guest and then I shall personally escort your party to the Lady Githa."

It was all they could have hoped and Donegan was at once overcome with relief, though he sent a speculative look to Annarin. She stood quietly amidst the men, a lost, fragile thing, alone in a world that at once seemed much too big for her. "We are most grateful for you help sir. Is that not so m’lady?"

"Yes… most grateful."

Though her words might hold the proper amount of gratitude, Annarin was far from feeling anything save trepidation at the prospect of the journey’s end. Too soon she would be forced to say good-bye to the men… the last links to her father, her home, her old life. She thrust the troubling thoughts aside, watching instead as Keil turned his attention to the innkeeper, "You will find Ewan at the stables. Send him to Githa with word of Annarin’s arrival. He may tell her that her niece will be delivered after she’s had a chance to refresh herself."

"At once m’lord."

Keil glanced to Annarin, "Come then, you shall join me for the midday meal?"

"I would be pleased to do so m’lord."

"Kiel." He corrected quickly, leading her across the small room to one of the tables before the windows. Donegan and the others followed suit, choosing a table some distance away, though still within easy reach should Annarin have need of them. Light from the street beyond spilled over the clean wooden tabletops, small bouquets of wildflowers decorating each. Keil held out one of the rough-hewn chairs for Annarin, and she sank to it gratefully, suddenly all too aware of the many eyes still resting upon her. A newcomer. An outsider. Amidst the people and the noise, she found herself more alone than ever.

"As you wish." She responded, surprised that her voice should sound so casual when inside her heart beat painfully and she fought to keep the tears at bay.

A simply dressed woman in her middle years came toward them then, sparing either the need to say any more. Her kind brown eyes moved from Kiel to Annarin and back again. "My lord, it is good to see you. How is it with your family?"

"All are well."

Annarin watched as Meave motioned to a girl of about her own age who bore a tray with bowl and plates. The smell of bread and fresh stew came strongly then, though it held no appeal for her, and she watched as the girl took great care in setting the meal before them, using the few moments to try and catch the eye of the handsome young warrior. He smiled absently at her, and she flushed prettily.

"Is there anything else m’lord?" She asked, her voice almost a caress.

He glanced to the table. "This will be fine Katrin."

The girl retreated, sending a reluctant glance over her shoulder as she returned to her chores in the kitchen. How she longed to be the fine lady seated with the handsome lord, taking a leisurely midday meal instead of the over-worked servant that went so often unnoticed. Meave had returned to the kitchen, leaving the others in the great room to observe the pair while pretending to see to their own affairs. Strangers came rarely, and this alone was enough to rouse interest in the girl.

Kiel found himself uncomfortable in the silence that followed Katrin’s departure, and he searched for something to say. "It is good that you are at the end of your journey." He offered, watching as she moved the food about her plate. "Githa will be glad of your company no matter the circumstance that has brought you here."

Annarin glanced up, trepidation plain in her eyes at the mention of the woman she barely knew, who lived only in stories her mother told her as they’d sat by a roaring fire on icy, wind-swept nights. "You know my aunt well then?"

Strange that he should know Githa better than her own blood kin, yet it was so. "She has been a loyal ally to my father for many a year, as her husband and father before her."

They fell silent again, and he found himself wondering at what impact this most compelling girl would have on this simple place. She was as different from the other women as she could be… as Githa was. "Your aunt is a lady of most unique talents."

"As was my mother sir."

Keil thought unexpectedly of the whispers amid the revelry of celebration, unsettling stories of the beautiful sisters and powers that could not be explained. He’d dismissed the tales as rumors spread by fools… still sitting here now before one of their own blood he found himself drawn to this striking girl in a way he could not deny. "You’ve hardly touched your food."

"Forgive me, I do not have much of an appetite."

"Another dish, perhaps?"

She shook her head, pushing the plate away, reaching instead for the goblet of water that had been placed on the table. Of this she drank deeply, and he watched her for a moment, saying nothing before gesturing to Katrin who waited by the kitchen door. The girl came forward readily, reaching to take first Keil’s then Annarin’s plate. When she saw the latter barely touched, she glanced to the girl, her tone sugary sweet, though the words were venom. "It seems our southern fare does not please your tastes my lady."

The barb hit home, and Annarin flushed. "It — it’s not that at all. Truly."

Keil sent the serving girl a thunderous look, and she knew at once she’d dared too much. Determined to regain his favor, she flushed prettily, at once the picture of innocence. "I only ask so that I may better serve Lady Annarin on your next visit."

Annarin rose to her feet then. "You have made me feel most welcome." She said, her careful emphasis on the words conveying plainly her meaning as her gaze swept the room. None dared to meet her gaze, the silence falling heavily upon them. She glanced to Keil who had risen to his feet as well, "If you would be so kind sir, I am most anxious to be presented to my aunt. Perhaps we could be on our way?"

"As you wish Lady Annarin."

Without another word, Keil moved to take hold of Annarin’s arm, leading her through the cluster of tables toward the door. Donegan and the men rose as well, sending quick, grateful glances to the innkeeper before following the other two from the inn and into the street beyond. It was here that a great commotion caught the attention of those who stood there, hardened fighting men riding hard behind a lone woman on horseback, galloping steadily toward them.

"It would seem Annarin, that your aunt is equally anxious to meet you."

At the sight of them the woman reigned in her winded mount, guiding the animal to where they stood, the men Keil had sent to her coming almost at once behind her. With a single, graceful motion she slipped from the horse’s back.

"Lord Keil, I have word that you are with my… " Words failed her as her intent, blue-green eyes fell on Annarin, and for an instant the years fell away and she was looking into the face of a sister. "Annarin — Annarin… oh dear child… " She reached to take the girl’s hands and the two stood silent for a breathless moment. To Annarin, this woman bore more than a passing resemblance to her mother, melting the child’s doubts and sending her into the comforting embrace of one who loved her on sight.

Keil and the other warriors stood watching, uncomfortable with the display of gentler emotions as the woman and the girl held fast to each other. Those women who watched the scene unfold from a discrete distance were later to say it was a most moving event — the girl welcomed with warmth by the aunt at once a mother, with whom she would share her burden of grief.

At last Githa loosened her grip on Annarin, though she never broke contact as she moved to stand before the fighting men who had accompanied the girl. The older woman’s gaze moved over each of them in turn, and they had the distinct, though irrational, impression that she could hear their thoughts, see into their very souls… leaving each man to meet the look as best he might.

"Tell me of my sister."

A shadow passed over their weathered faces, though it was Donegan who spoke up, in that moment seeing the Lady Audra as she had been that last night, determination lighting her violet-blue eyes as she’d given the instructions that had begun the journey. Whatever had become of her, she’d met her end without fear, of this he was certain. "Dead m’lady, or wishing she was."

"And Caedmon? What of him and his men?"

"The barbarians attacked without warning… We mounted a fight, but alas we were outmatched." Donegan went on slowly, ever mindful of his lord’s beloved daughter standing there. "Caedmon died a hero, fighting to save his land and family."

"How did you know to bring Annarin to me?"

"It was Lady Audra who set the plan in motion… who sacrificed herself to see it succeed."

Though the news startled Keil, her sister’s action seemed not to surprise Githa. Audra had always been the one to depend on in a crisis… the one with the daring to go and make her home in a barren, dangerous wilderness with a man who had completely captured her heart. Now all that remained of that all-consuming love was this fragile child, miraculously spared a horrible fate and delivered here in safety. "I am most humbly and heartily grateful for your services."

"It is our duty to Caedmon, and to the Lady Annarin herself."

If she was aware of the honor the men paid her, Annarin gave no sign, overcome in that moment by the relief of finding her aunt and a kindred spirit in one. She kept hold of Githa’s weathered hand as the older woman spoke, her gaze moving to Lord Keil, who stood silent and watching. "I am also most obliged to you Keil, for sending word of Annarin’s arrival, and keeping her in your care."

"I was pleased to do it, Githa."

Something in his voice kept the intent blue-green eyes fixed upon him for a silent moment, though Githa did not seem troubled by whatever she saw, and she turned her attention once more to the men who’d accompanied Annarin. "I can offer you little, but what I have you are most welcome to share as members of my household."

Caedmon’s men exchanged looks, for they had already decided amongst themselves to remain with Annarin. It was Donegan who put voice to this for them all, and Githa nodded, well pleased. "Come then, and we shall make our way back to the farm."

Keil stepped forward then, though later he would wonder what compelled him to do so. "Lady Githa, if I may… I should like to speak to my mother on Annarin’s behalf. As she is of an age of my sisters, perhaps— "

"That is most appreciated Lord Keil." The older woman cut in quickly, glancing to her niece’s bowed head. The child had been through terror and torment, now it was time for the peace and healing of a loving home to ease wounds fresh and painful. "After a time perhaps, but for now I would ask Annarin be left in peace."

That would have been the end of it, had not Githa taken pity on Keil, sensing though not seeing his profound disappointment. "Perhaps a visit in a week or two would be in order."

"I shall plan on it."

"Very well then, I’ll expect you in a fortnight."

It was an appointment Keil was most determined to keep.


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