Alan Davidson's Blog – April 2012 Archive (3)

     “He is a general, not a king!” The councilor’s declaration resounded in the chamber as he stood before his peers. He was aging, almost a relic of a bygone era. The frailty of his body did not match the absoluteness of his voice that decried the ability of the one about to be crowned. “We are at peace, and this man who lusts for war will bring us nothing but chaos.” He continued as he pointed at the rugged face of Hinshaw, “Look at this man! He is not nobility! He sleeps in the sand with…

     The forest was heavy with the coming rain, all seemed eager to receive it. The horses were almost silent, their hooves masked by the moss covering the forest floor. Just off the path there sat a cloaked figure in a tree covered in green lichen, hanging down like a moth-eaten curtain. The green cloak that hung around the young man in the tree rendered him invisible to all, his knife hidden just beneath the folds of the cloak, ready to strike. He steadied his breathing, calming himself…

     The sound of bare feet pattering down the corridor echoed as she ran; hair and tassels flowing behind her.  Grey stone arches seemed to fly by as her feet swept her onwards past stained glass murals that told the stories of heroes long since passed. She flew past battlements that had not seen a sentry in ages, ballista towers that had no flames ready to ignite tar-covered stones on invaders. The castle itself seemed to sleep, like an old man unconcerned. The girl’s white dress…