Victory's Price

Mollen (Part Twenty- Three)

Chapter 24

“Kat! Where are my boots?”

Moll dashed down the stairs and she stood at the bottom, smiling slightly. In her hands she held, balanced, his boots. They were polished and perfectly presented, the laces tucked neatly under the tongues.

“Oh you are perfect.”

Moll grabbed his shoes and hurriedly drew them on. He felt a pang at ruining her pristine work but he was running late.

“Just doing my job, sir.”

“Well you do it perfectly.”

She thrust a breakfast pastry into his hands.

“See,” Moll took a bite. “Perfect.” He said and swallowed the rest of the pastry whole.

“You flatter me, m’Lord.”

She took a step back as Moll rushed through the front door.

Drew stood in the foreyard, holding Kae.

“Thank you, Drew.”

“You’re welcome, m’Lord.”

Mollen vaulted onto his horse and Kae, sensing his rush, broke into an instant canter.

“You’re damned perfect too, Kae” Moll muttered, his mood oddly heightened.

Today was going to be a good day. Today he was going to save his country.

Mollen made a decision. He was late but it was worth it. He was going to travel along the coastal road. Petty court was long and boring, it could wait a little longer.

Wrenching the reigns to the left, Moll turned away from the road and onto his land. His brother’s land, his conscience reminded him, using Kat’s sedate voice.

Moll laughed, relishing the cool breeze. What did it matter if it was his brother’s land if Moll oversaw every aspect of it?

Sheep scattered as Moll urged Kae into a gallop, flying across the flat grasslands. It felt so good to be doing something just for fun. Somehow Mollen had found his hands overflowing with the kind of responsibility that added pounds to the soul.

The beautiful blue haze of the ocean came into view. It shone with the same freshness that always followed a storm.

He loved the sea.

Kae skidded to a halt on the damp grass and, slipping off his back, Mollen opened the gate that separated his fields – his brother’s fields - from the coastal road.

He was officially on the edge of civilisation. Moll looked out across the waves; all that lay west of him was water and the Far Lands.

The wind was always brisk up here and the heathers bobbed jauntily to its tune.

The coastal road ran the whole length of the Motherland and Mollen had deep suspicions that it was this stunning all the way along. One day, when he was done with being young and busy, Mollen had already decided, he was going to travel the whole length. From the forest to the mountains, he was going to experience every inch of it.

“Come on, Kae.”

Mollen hauled himself back onto his mount’s steady back and nudged the horse back into rapid movement. Behind him the tiny pink flowers bowed at the wind’s command, waving him a goodbye.

 They said that every gate to the keep had a different personality. Moll looked up at the solid wood, towering over him, and recited each description to himself.