| Subject: From Shadow to Sand |
Author:
Cricket
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Date Posted: 17:07:21 10/01/04 Fri
I read what last was written here with a bitter taste in my mouth. Such despondence from a tired mind. I still suffer these dark bouts, but not as often now, and they never get as deep. Khaless did return with Trevor..and my son is strong and happy and learning his role well. I wish I could say that Khaless stayed, but he went back to the Shadows as he so often does. Trevor does not ask about him as much these days, for certainly the boy has much to keep him occupied. Mantis and I were able to be civil to each other..for awhile. He had set up shop in the town of Ebotai, on the edge of the deserts. I drug Rose out there with me, though I dont believe the girl will ever have any love of heat and sun. For awhile, it worked, and Mantis actually showed his better side, but he got pulled off on some other interest, and his two cronies werent very fond of taking orders from a woman, and things turned a little and changed. Perfect timing I thought, when Ciro showed up for the first time in..how long? I cannot even remember.
He rode us hard through the Burning Lands..and here we still are. Ciro of course, off on his campaigns soon after our arrival. I have seen him once since then, a night of subterfuge and barely enough time to speak. I grow weary of it, but have no choice but to stay.
I have enlisted the help of the House here (Ciros "assistants" he has assigned me are no more than bloody spieing eunochs!) in setting up a training camp in the village. The young men here so romanced by the tales of war that they would run off for the battles without a thought anyway, are trained here with some battle skills and given what little we can provide in the way of weapons and gear. I know very little of how they impact the battles that ravage the lands, but it keeps us busy here, and makes the waiting not so long. I had to make myself clear with the staff as to keeping me informed as to the wars efforts everywhere, for at first they were reluctant to tell me much. They have yet to address my son as Prince, for the marriage has not taken place, but they all know his future here, and they treat him with great respect. He has tutors and teachers in the arts of war, and the same for his academics. He has an excellent riding instructor and dozens of young and pretty housemaids to spoil him rotten. I do not find him pretentious for all of this, but a thoughtful, somewhat curious lad..and yet deep in his eyes, I have to sometimes look away, for the fire burns deep there, and someday it is bound to come out. I have thus found him another tutor, that is teaching him the fine arts of meditation and the powers that can be found and mastered there in spiritual grasp. I feel this is all that might save him someday, an ability to control himself.
I worry not about the years as they are passing, for they pass so very slow. I worry not about my health, for it is still good, and I feel no signs of aging but for the ache in my leg when the nights are cold. Perhaps that is why I like it here, for it is dry and hot during the day, and even when it is cold, it is not icy. I spend my mornings going over the maps that the messengers bring in, and trying to understand the strategies of my "Lord". I spend the afternoons with the boy, either watching him ride or fence or sometimes stealing him away for a lunch in the garden. My evenings are spent in going over certain money issues, and seeing to the training that is going on every day. Nights are left to myself, and sometimes I still find them very very long. The bastard has even seen to it that there are no young men in the House..only the old and the neutered. I suppose I am old enough now, where it doesnt really matter..but its the point of the thing. I am entitled to company in my bed just as he is, whether he believes that or not. To save any of his guards their poor damned heads..I leave them be, but what my dear Lord forgets is that there is more than one way to skin a male.
I have my company here and there, and none any wiser to the fact, but such trists are discreet and do not occur very often..but oh they do help me sleep. That doesnt come much these days, but I feel none the worse for wear for the lack of dreams.
I shall try to write a little more as the months go on..and go on I am sure they will, for the battles continue with much open sand in between them.
~C~
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