[CRP] Journey to Redmoor

[Aida]

“I’m a monster,” said the shadow of the Marquess suddenly. “Everyone says so.”
The Minotaur glanced up at her. “So are we all, dear,” said the Minotaur kindly. “The thing to decide is what kind of monster to be. The kind who builds towns or the kind who breaks them.”
— Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There

~-----------------------------------~

One look at Redmoor castle told Aida all she needed to know. There was no way that it was going to be a decent base for dealing with county issues and hosting local dignitaries, much less being basically inhabitable. It was a ruin. Only one tower stood, built of the same red tinted stone that the county produced from its mine. Rosemont, it had once been called, and it was easy to see why. The Countess sighed and steered her new dappled grey up the winding path towards it. Although a ruin, they had ridden all day to see it and for the night it would do as a campsite. She was with new employees, untried and untested, but she had a good feeling about them.

The sisters, the lady-in-waiting Miyanda and Imperial guardswoman Rumana Amiri - whom she had had to hire on account that Rumana could not be employed without her sister - were northern refugees as far as she could tell. They had obviously come from a privileged household but their struggles, although they had not shared them with their employer, had made them tough and uncomplaining of a days ride across the cold and windswept moorland. And the county steward Master Sirrin, employed by the state and a longtime resident of the county, a scholary type whom as they had rode up the northern county road had imparted all kinds of invaluable knowledge about Aida's new home.

"Ashenhill, mining settlement, I told you about it. It's that way, north west slightly of this road. Storage barns for the whole county are there on account of the good security. There's a couple of hamlets hidden in the trees, less... modern folk live there."

And Aida had nodded as they rode, half listening as she checked on her donkey and cart. When they arrived Master Sirrin was talking about the ancient flint mines that ran under the stone mine proper, but as they turned up the hill to head towards the eerie remains of a once great castle, they all fell silent. It was more than eerie, Aida thought, a strange smell was in the air and crows were circling the top of the hill. She almost could swear she heard a faint clacking sound. She pulled her horse to a stop and looked around. Snow was beginning to swirl in the air and Miyanda lent forward in her saddle, "Everything alright, my Lady?"

"Hmm," she replied. She urged the palfrey on, turning the corner to where the gatehouse would have been. There was a stake driven into the ground before her, a goats head impaled upon it. Someone had tied bones onto the taller columns. That explained the clacking sound she had heard. She sighed heavily and dismounted, holding her hand out to stop the others from following.

If there was any mystery about what had happened to the last guard stationed here, there was none now. It was a scene of devastation. Burnt plants, animal remains and the remains of fires were beginning to be covered with winter snows, giving all of the scorched debris a delicate white dusting. It was grotesque, she thought, as she kicked candle stumps out from the centre of a circle of pebbles. There were runes drawn on the ground in charcoal and Aida recognised some of them, bending down to smudge the wet ground slightly. Evidently, it was some kind of summoning ritual.

"Ugh!" Aida turned as Miyanda stepped in something unmentionable, recoiling as she took in the scene around her. Rumana entered from a gap in the wall opposite with Master Sirrin, weapons drawn. The ranger shook her head, "No sign of anyone around, my Lady."

"No," Aida replied, "They're long gone. We should bury these people, if we can, before the ground gets too hard. Rumana, take your sister down to the stream to clean her shoe, get some water. We'll have to camp down the hill, hope it keeps the worst of the wind off us. Master Sirrin, can you...?"

He inclined his head, "I will get a fire started, a tent up."

They left Aida standing alone in the courtyard, her hair whipped up by a sudden chill wind. Was it worse than she had imagined? Perhaps. She had expected something like this when Sirrin had told her of the witches, yet nothing so brutal had crossed her mind. Whoever they were, they had a good power source behind them and they were organised, much more organised than the covens she had known in the forests of South Fenia. She forced the door open to the tower - evidently the guard had tried to barricade it - and made her way past more deceased as she climbed to the top. Looking out at the grey, snow heavy sky and the red heath that surrounded her, she trained her eyes on the dense forest in the distance.

"I know you're there," she murmered, leaning over the battlements, "I know you're there."

Master Sirrin called her from somewhere below and she turned to leave, casting one last eye out over the landscape. She hoped she was not picking a losing battle.

[Aida]

Fire danced against the dimming light, as they sat huddled with their backs in a single hide tent against the sharp winter wind. No-one said much as they shared out some bread and meat, Miyanda pouring small ale out of a goatskin. Crows still cawed out above them and Rumana sprung up as soon as she had eaten, muttering that she could no longer stand it. She went to scout the perimeter, a paranoid look on her face. So far, not an auspicious start to her stewardship of the county. Aida stretched her legs out, warming her feet inside her boots as Master Sirrin pulled out a book and wrapped his cloak more tightly about himself. It was going to be an uncomfortable night, and she hoped the horses would be alright. She knew Oona would, the donkey had survived many much harsher winters without protection. Rumana returned shortly with nothing to report and Master Sirrin put his book away. They all glanced at one another, briefly.

"So... story?" Aida said, breaking the silence.

Of course, Master Sirrin obliged. He began telling them, prudently, of a great city far away with great limestone walls beside the biggest river he had ever seen. She lent forward and enjoyed his level voice as he told them of the glittering sapphire waters and the soft, amber sands that it lapped against. She listened carefully to his voice, relaxing for the first time in two days and allowing herself to be taken to a different place.

Aida started suddenly. She must have nodded off, she thought, and it had begun snowing. Master Sirrin was snoring gently against the mouth of the tent and Aida looked around sleepily, pulling her hood closer around her freezing face. Rumana was not back and Aida forced herself out of the warmth of her furs to look around and call gently into the howling wind. Sighing in relief, she saw her guardswoman trample towards her, red nosed and nod, before sitting down at the fire, warming her hands.

"Not a soul about. Didn't even see a single animal."

"They've all got more sense than us, camping out here. That's why."

The ventured a smile at one another and sat closer to the fire, pulling more wood from the dry pack next to it to bring the flames up to height.

"Hey, do you kn-" Aida began, before stopping. Was that a twig snapping? Rumana rose, she must have heard something too. She drew her sword and Aida her dagger, as they turned their backs to the fire. Something was, indeed, heading their way from the misty distance, but the snow was getting heavier and it was impossible to make out if it was an animal, or otherwise.

"Stop right there!" Rumana said, in an impressive voice.

It stopped. Human, or sentient, then. They glanced at each other and approached, slowly, weapons drawn.

"Please..." It said, barely a whisper carried along the icy wind.

"Wait, wait," Aida said, lowering her dagger. It was a girl, of no more than fourteen, with straggly hair almost frozen in strange shapes. Her skin was an unhealthy shade of blue, her eyes dark and bottomless, her lips cracked and red. Aida could see dried blood at the edges of her mouth.

"It's an Inferi," Rumana whispered, terrified, "A dead body brought back by black magic!"

"No," Aida murmered, rushing forward and throwing her own cloak over the figure, "This one is quite alive."

[Aida]

"Riva," she said, as they tried to start a fire in the middle of the tent, filling the entire room with smoke. A sleeping Miyanda and Athir had woken and were scurrying around, looking worried as they brought hot water to the girl, whom Aida was attempting to communicate with. She looked emaciated, half-frozen and terrified, as her eyes darted nervously from one person to the other. She knew this girl was one of the witches waifs, the bone charm around her neck gave it away. She attempted to touch it, but the girl recoiled, muttering wildly.

"Look," Aida said, bending down and illuminating a single amber rune on the ground in front of her, "I'm like you." The girl squirmed nervously. "I'm like you, do you see?" Aida repeated. She said nothing, bringing her knees closer to her chest and saying again, quietly, "Riva."

"Riva, is that your name?" She got no reply, and Aida gave up, letting Miyanda see to the girls wounds and letting her prise off her boots to help her get clean. There was nothing else the rest of them could do, so Aida grabbed a spare cloak from the floor and ventured outside to where Rumana was standing, looking wary, weapon out.

"My lady, we can't stay here."

"I know."

They looked at one another, and Aida opened her mouth to speak when a quiet, deliberate cough interrupted her.

"Master Sirrin. A suggestion?"

"Yes, my lady. If we were to ride south, for a good while, we might make it to one of the hamlets before the dead of night."

"You did not suggest this before."

"I thought we would be safe here. The hamlets... they are not so friendly. But I think they might be persuaded by the county arms and by good Ms. Amiri's sword. Forgive me, but I think none of us feel that here we are safe."

They were interrupted by Miyanda as she exited the tent. Shivering, she washed blood from her hands with the freshly fallen snow and looked up at the three in front of her.

"Are we leaving?" She asked, straightening up.

"Yes," Aida said, picking up a bag from the ground, "We are leaving."

[Aida]

Aida could see why Athir had thought camping on the moor to be more hospitable than this place. It was situated in a coppice, out of the wind, but in a muddy hollow that stank of something Aida was not quite able to place. Strange, round, dumpy dwellings surrounded a single well, from which an old woman was drawing water. She scurried back inside when she saw the horses and cart approach and curious eyes peeped around doors and through tiny, slatted windows. The county flag on Aida's saddle was splattered with mud. At Master Sirrin's direction, they approached the biggest hut, built of what looked looked like wattle and daub and painted with red and yellow ochre, like something from the far past. It was getting dark fast, and the snow was falling thickly, coating the strange dwellings lightly in a way that made them look like winter puddings topped with fine white sugar. They dismounted, Miyanda exclaiming quietly with disgust as the mud splattered her travelling skirts. The waif, strange and silent, looked out from underneath two cloaks atop the cart, as though a wild animal waiting to see who would attack.

Aida saw him approach first as a silhouette, marked out by the light of the golden fire behind him. Staring wistfully at the warm light, she turned her attention to what appeared to be an impossibly old man, hung head to toe in what at first she thought, horrified, were entrails, but instead as he came closer turned out to be ribbons of sheep fleece from which it seemed his entire outfit was made. He held a large, gnarly staff in one hand that rose above his head and was topped with the skull and antlers of a deer. He spoke.

"Good day."

He was quiet, surveying. The other villagers - if you could call them that - were beginning to spill out of their homes for a good look, but at one inclination of his head and a sweeping look, they scurried back inside, closing the door. Careful with this one, she thought.

"Do you know who I am?" She replied, equally quietly.

"I expect you are some kind of official. Have you come to meddle?" It was almost a threat.

"I am Aida, Countess of Redmoor. I'm here seek shelter for the night." She allowed herself a twitch of a smile, "No meddling."

There was a long pause as his eyes met hers, raven black and searching. He nodded and stood aside as a small boy sped out of of a nearby cottage and despite not being asked, began to tether their horses to the trees. He looked hungrily at a loaf of bread peeking out from the back of the cart and Aida walked over to it, pulling it out and handing it to him. She noticed he glanced at the old man before he took it. Aida turned and he stood aside, beckoning them in. But when he saw the half frozen waif, he held out his hand.

"Not that one."

She made to raise her voice in protest, but Master Sirrin shook his head.

"It's alright," Miyanda said, taking down her bag from the cart and putting her arm round the girl, "I'll take her in this empty one, I doubt we'll all fit in there anyway." Aida nodded, giving her a meaningful pat on the arm.

The painted dwelling, however, was surprisingly roomy. Inside the walls were whitewashed and painted with symbols in the yellow ochre that gave almost the impression of gold. She recognised some of them, there were runes of group protection painted in a circle right around the room. The floor was covered in find clay tiles, too, although some of them were cracked and in need of replacement. A fire crackled in the hearth set in the middle, smoke rising upwards and out. There was a single peice of furniture, a large painted chest she suspected held of their hosts worldy possessions. The man whom she guessed was a priest was laying out furs on the ground, his gnarled staff leaning against the wall, casting an antler horned shadow on to the wall. He offered them some sharp smelling ale, which all three of them refused, and then some meat which after smelling and prodding repeatedly Aida decided it was safe to eat.

"You have seen it, then."

She knew, right away, what he was talking about. Setting down her wooden plate, she looked up at him.

"Yes. We've seen it."

"Did you bury the bodies?"

"The ones that remained."

He nodded and drank deeply from his beaker. She decided to venture some questions.

"What do you call yourself?"

"Many things. I prefer Wunjo."

Wunjo, she thought. Joy.

"That's quite a name to give yourself."

She saw him smile for the first time, a genuine smile that made his old, wrinkled face seem warm and decided to ask, "Will you help me?"

Athir and Rumana, in the corner of her eye, exchanged looks as though they did not quite understand. She watched Wunjo carefully.

"Alas," he said, "but first there are different battles to be fought."

Cryptic and confusing, it figured. She frowned. It was always the same with these old mystic types, who thought because they had information others did not they could see with more clarity that everyone else, who deserved to be shut out for their own good. He looked at her as though he had read her mind and chuckled.

"We too, are in danger from these witches on the moor. But they are not the only thing that moves deep in the forest. Did you ever wonder where they, mere fledgling enchantresses, could get such power from?"

She nodded, slowly, "There's something in the forest, isn't there?"

He inclined his head, "I cannot leave the boundary of the village, you see my symbols, you know why."

"You exchange your freedom for the safety of the village," she said, looking up at a single, O shaped rune with tails.

"Yes. Now, I think perhaps you should rest, should you make it to your destination in time." Aida opened her mouth to tell him they had no set destination, but already he was dampening the fire, and Athir and Rumana, who had been speaking quietly amongst themselves had also pulled their furs around them. She listened to them snoring for a good long while before, shivering, she turned over and forced her eyes shut.

[Aida]

They left early, before dawn once again, with frost crunching underneath their boots and breath turning to steam in an instant. The stray girl, who they still had no name for, was dragged out by Miya uncomplainingly, her eyes darting everywhere at once. The old priest-mystic, or whatever he was did not see them off, simply nodding when they announced they needed to be away and pressing a tankard of his rather sour ale into Master Sirrin's hands. Looking back, despite the early morning mist, Aida could now see distinctly a faint glowing line encircling the houses. Perhaps he had been related to them, but it was strange how the people seemed to treat him with such reverance. Perhaps in his day he had been even more powerful. She watched from her horse as one of the small boys laid a bowl outside his house and made a clapping motion with his hands, bowing his head and running off. But these were people from a time gone by, she thought to herself, it wasn't fair to question their ways. Besides, he had been perfectly hospitable to all but the stray girl.

They had been riding for a while when Aida realised she had no idea where they were heading. Pulling sharply on the reins of her grey palfrey, she steered her horse to Athir's.

"I thought we might head south," he said, as if reading her mind, "there's a place I've been living since the old resident died a few years ago. Myself and another of his previous servants. A cook, luckily." He chuckled and fell silent for a moment, "It's a little... overgrown. Best you see for yourself."

They both became quiet, falling into a walk with Oona soldiering on behind them, the stray girl shivering and muttering on top of the blue cart. Miyanda was walking beside her horse, but she soon became tired and mounted, slumping forward in her seat. In the distance, a great forest punctuated the horizon, a dense mass she looked on with careful consideration. If that was to be her battleground, so be it.

[Aida]

Not a battleground, but a home, of sorts. Master Athir Sirrin announced it with his voice tinged with pride as they headed uphill through a narrow path enclosed by impossibly dense woodland. The trees cleared however, for a moment, revealing a collection of neat but shabby houses, with wattle fenced vegetable gardens valiantly keeping the forest at bay. It was almost the polar opposite of the last dwelling they had visited, the air smelled sweet and grassy despite the snow that was thick on the ground and the cottages were of a common, modern style, although the thatching was bare on some of them. People came out of their cottages and despite Aida's equally shabby appearance, began waving their hankerchiefs and and curtseying. Nearly falling off her horse, Aida dismounted, Athir coming to take her arm. She nodded gratefully, after the long few days of riding her legs were beginning to feel weak. She was approached by a woman in a heavily darned, faded red kirtle, who curtsied and pushed her little boy in front of her. Aida smiled and took the warm wine he was offering.

"I'm Mistress Woods, my Lady. Is it true you're the new Countess? Since Master Sirrin left we've been waiting a while, we had some banners.... but the snow..." She gestured around guiltily.

"No!" Aida said loudly, slurping her drink and startling the woman a little, "I mean no, no, don't bother about that. Honestly, you're the best reception we've had in days." Mistress Woods beamed. "These houses were built when the old Lord of the hall first came. We were all originally employees in the construction of the site, or else serving folk and the like. I expect now you're here, you'll be needing our services again?" Her look of optimistic hope was tinged with desperation and Aida couldn't bring herself to be ambiguous, not even knowing if she would be living at this hall. So she nodded and smiled, a murmer of joy spreading through the small crowd.

Taking her arm, Master Sirrin excused them, as they walked uphill once more, horses, donkey and cart following them. The path up to the house was treacherously narrow, a sheer drop down either side. They approached carefully, but Master Sirrin's confidence eased Aida's timidity and she simply followed. Standing stones loomed into view and for a moment, a sense of dread approached her, but the stones merely marked a gate, a curiously family symbol marking them either side. She frowned, but said nothing. A common symbol of old, she thought.

Through the gate, an expanse of land opened up, headed by the rest of the cliff that teetered up to look over the forest. She left the horse and walked some way behind a crumbling outbuilding, cursing as she almost slipped down the edge of a sheer cliff.

"Careful, my Lady!" Rumana said, catching her by the arm. But Aida was paying no attention. It almost as if they were on a little floating island on a vast sea of trees, with the landmass of the moor in the very distance, a continent waiting to be explored. Mist and snow swirled in patterns on top of branches both dead and evergreen, and even Rumana couldn't help but gasp quietly. Aida pushed her way out of some brambles and returned to look at the higher point of the cliff. Two, great ornate grey doors marked the entrance to a residence that must be built straight into the cliff, she could see windows poking out from here and there, although vines and overgrowth seemed to cover most of them including the doors themselves. On the very tip of the cliff, despite the mist she could see something white sticking up and Master Sirrin smiled, following her gaze.

"The observatory, such as it is."

"This place is amazing. You've really outdone yourself, Master Sirrin."

"It will need repairs, I'm afraid. The living spaces, also, are not that large. But it will I think serve the purpose with county funds helping along, of course."

Aida grinned, feeling optimistic for the first time in days. Master Sirrin caught her happiness and laughed, setting his bag down and outstreching his hands.

"Welcome, my Lady, to Hunter's Cliff."

[Aida]

Her excitement, sadly, was shortlived, although she was happy that the state of the main house meant she would indeed need to call on the services of the residents in the tiny hamlet below. After prising open the great grey metal doors, which screamed in protest despite all of them pushing at once, they gave up and entered through the smaller inbuilt door, Master Sirrin pausing outside to light a lamp. The main lobby was covered in plants and grime, black and white tiles obscured by vines. To the right was a door, which Master Sirrin told her led along a long gallery with guest chambers at the end, the other side a servants gallery leading to the kitchens. The twin stairs which framed a door and led to another set of doors either side which she was told led to a few more servant's rooms and guest rooms with a painting gallery on their respective sides.

It was the doors in front of her that opened up to the main feature of the house. She walked out onto a wooden platform looking over the room, it formed a gallery all around the edge of the space. Although the light was dim due to the dirty windows which were dizzingly high up, she could make out a huge stone hall beneath and above her, a massive undertaking to be hollowed out of a cliff. She opened her mouth to ask how those few villagers could possibly have acheived this when Master Sirrin spoke.

"The hall was here long before the rest of the house. The fireplaces on either side and the smoothed out floor were built when the old Master came, but you see those carvings? All round the edge? They're very ancient. We're on level here with some of the highest ones, the old master built this gallery for this purpose. And to get to private chambers over there." He pointed to some doors at the back of the hall. Engrossed, her lady Miyanda joined her in holding the lamp up to the carvings, pointing out shapes of what could possible be animals.

"The old master, a Lord Stanning, he picked up the hall from the Fenian land auction for pennies back in the day. Not a true lord, but a rich merchant lord who fancied himself noble blood. Not a bad sort, I travelled with him for a while, that's how I got to be his steward...." He trailed off, realising the women were no longer listening as they made their way down the wooden gallery, looking down and up at the stone hall.

The small private chambers in the back were pleasantly dust free, Miya opened old wardrobes, pulling dust sheets of furnite and nodding, "I think this could be quite livable, shortly. We could stay here if the kitchen is in good order, soon." She made her way into a bedchamber whilst Aida examined a mostly empty bookshelf.

"Hey!" Miyanda called excitedly, "Look, there's a little lake down there! Do you know if there's access?"

But Master Sirrin was already bowing and gesturing down a small spiral staircase. They followed him out onto a tiny patch of sand and dirt, at the foot of a very small, but evidently very deep lake. It was frozen over now however and Aida tapped the surface with her foot, tiny bubbles rising to the surface.

"Quite swimmable in the summer, I assure you," he said. "For now, I'm afraid, me and the cook... we've made quite a good home in the gatehouse. Much easier to keep clean. We've also stored many of the old Lord's possessions, he died quite suddenly you see and so all of his effects reverted to the crown. I'm afraid we've sold a few things here and there, keep the old servants fed..."

Aida nodded, not caring and looking surprised at the expression of relief on the old half-elf's face. She smiled and gestured back to the door, "The gatehouse, then."

[Aida]

It took them a full week to make any kind of headway with the house. Most of the wooden supports in the bedrooms, it turned out, were infested with woodworm and even the panelling was damaged. It was lucky, then, that the county had a decent revenue stored up for use of the resident governer. Expensive, but a lot cheaper than rebuilding the castle, she was sure. A lot safer, too.

The villagers from the foot of the hill came up, enthusiastically starting work and forbidding their Countess from joining in. It was rather annoying, but there was plenty to do in the gatehouse. A red stone building by the standing stone gate, it was four rooms stacked on top of each other, each with a rather curiously carved roof. Two of the rooms had been given over entirely to storage from the main hall, paintings, clothing, books and various furnishings were carefully stacked against every available space, covered in sacking to protect them. Master Sirrin, it turned out, had been living in just two rooms along with the cook, whom had been waiting for them outside the door when they arrived.

"My lady, Grub. The best cook in the county."

Grub, a hefty looking male orc grunted at that, attempting a half bow and Aida smiled politely. This one would take some winning over, she thought. As it turned out, Master Sirrin had not been so wrong in his claim, as they entered and crowded around the small table they were served the most delicious beef stew she had ever tasted. The last of their meat stocks, but replenished by the supplies Aida had bought. She saw the orc's face light up at the various goods she had bought and nodded to her enthusiastically. The first score. Good.

And so they sat, over the next few days, her and Miyanda going through the stored items one by one. Athir had done a good job categorising them, there wasn't much to do except see what was there, ready for it to be eventually moved.

"The books are good," Aida said on the fifth day of cramped gatehouse living, "not damaged at all. Hmm, a lot of them seem to be about the history of the area. Looks like the previous owner was quite the enthusiast."

"Yes... yes," Miyanda replied, distracted by the clothes and bolts of fabrics. She exclaimed suddenly, holding up a bolt of pearly white damask in one hand and a set of quite expensive looking robes in the other. Aida laughed, "They won't fit."

"I can sew them. Yes, this is much better than I expected. I can get started on livery cloth with all of this, as well as half a dozen outfits for you."

"Great," said Aida, not too enamoured by the idea of being measured and pricked with pins. "I'm going to see how things are going."

Things, as it turned out, were going well. She was politely shunted out of the way by workmen, as they brought in large timbers directed by a rather large foreman who bowed and scraped but evidently couldn't wait for her to leave. Annoyed, she tramped out of the front hall, over a woman replacing tiles and out onto the green space between the hall and the gate. It had been partly cleared, the plants flattened and weeds pulled up, although she knew it would have to wait for the ground to thaw more thoroughly for a real path or wildflower garden to be planted as she planned. She headed over to a large tree growing right on the edge of the cliff and looked over at the forest below, a chilly wind blowing her hair. Frowning, she looked behind the tree. Was that a path downwards? It was overgrown and treacherous looking, fallen rocks lodged in strange places.

She made her way down anyway. Carefully, one foot in front of the other, Aida followed the narrow path, pebbles tumbling off the edge. Suddenly, a rock dislodged underneath her foot and she felt a horrid swooping sensation as her balance was thrown off. She grabbed wildly in the air at anything, feeling blessed relief as she found shrubs in thin air, pulling herself back up and sighing audibly in relief. She considered calling the whole thing off when she saw a door, painted in peeling white paint. Forcing her way in, she was hit by warmth, followed by an overwhelming scent of flowers and plant scents she could not place. It was a glass house, of the kind Aida had only read about, albeit grown over and in a state of disrepair. Mercifully, none of the glass panes were broken and as she walked down an aisle surrounded by strange and colourful plants she looked through the dusty windows out on a view of the forest. It looked like there was a small clearing below. The sun came out from the clouds, sending rays through the gaps in the covering foliage and cutting in straight lines across the room. This, Aida thought, would come in entirely useful.

[Aida]

Everything was going well, Aida thought. Too well, perhaps, as though she expected a flock of witches in their fury to descend on the place and tear limb from limb. Her dreams were frought with nightmares and there had been more than one occasion where she had woken to find Miya sat up in her bed, looking on with a worried expression. Did it matter what was going on in the outside world? Up here on her little island she was safe, yet in the back of her mind she knew that wasn't true. On the coldest days she escaped to the hot house, which she had begun to clear by herself. It had taken all of a few hours for her lady Miya to figure out where her mistress was disappearing to, but she had kept a respectful distance, allowing the Countess for some time to herself. It was one of the reasons, Aida realised, that she was so invaluable.

Light streamed through the newly cleaned window panes, and the gum she had applied to fix them seemed to be drying nicely despite the cold and wet outside weather. It was windy today, the trees outside were swaying dangerously and it was almost like being on a boat, sailing above a crisp green sea.

"Hyacinths," she read aloud, from a back of a small sack of bulbs. Not to be planted until autumn. She put it the 'autumn' pile and began stocking a newly cleaned cupbaord, ignoring the spiders as they scuttled about in protest of being displaced from their webs. The tables running down the middle and sides were almost empty after being cleared of the dead plants and broken pots, but a few specie miraculously had survived. Perhaps gaps she had filled with gum had been letting in water. There was no way to identify these specimans, even after perusing the books she had found. Thorn's library, she though, would do the trick. She made a mental note to visit the next time she went home.

She could hear faint scraping and shouting above, the result of no doubt more meticulous and expensive building work. Sighing, she left the confines of the green and warm space and made her way back up, emerging from the concealed pathway behind the huge oak that teetered off the edge of the cliff above.

"It's not her Ladyships' concern!" A man was shouting, red-faced.

"Well, maybe she should be the one to decide that!" A pale faced woman replied, hotly.

"Decide what?"

They both jumped almost a foot in the air and Aida did her best to hide a smile.

"I'm sorry, my Lady," the man stammered as his opponant curtseyed, "I didn't realise you were upon us."

"No matter. Decide what?"

They glanced at each other, the pale woman didn't seem so sure anymore. She adjusted her cap nervously.

"Well?"

"Something arrived for you today... in the village," she began. "It was only an insult, my Lady! I swear it was nothing to concern yourself with. Only a... festering goats' head, it was silly really..."

It was not as though Aida had really believed this place was truly a safe little island, but still, the shattering of the illusion fell upon her and she could only nod in reply. The young man, whom she recognised as one Erik Heath gave her a fiery look to match his mop of red hair.

"Whatever they try to do to us, we'll return, tenfold!" He exclaimed.

She gave him a weak smile, "Then, Mr. Heath, I'm sure you would be more than happy to be a part of my household guard."

Smiling again at his enthusiastic nod, she swept past them towards the gatehouse, ignoring a couple of workmen who doffed their caps or nodded as they worked. Ignoring the rising anger at her own weakness in chest, she strode into her bedchamber and slammed the door. It was not, she thought, a nice feeling, knowing that one was offering lambs to the slaughter.