Yuragwyn: Ours

---Chapter 4

As I run through the grass, small glints of what look like rusty metal catch my eye. I pick one such piece up. It looks to be a piece of a shattered sword, but the rust does not crumble in my hands as it should. I lift it to the light and study it closely. In a moment, though, I throw it away from me in horror.

It is not rust but dried blood.

My feet barely touch the ground as I run to the gate. I cannot bear the thought of treading on Granzian— or worse, Yuragwynian— blood. I had known, yes, that a war was happening here while we were away, but it wasn't quite real in that time. Now it is too real.

"Let me in! Let me in!" I cry, shaking the gate. The streets are hollow, empty. My pleas seem to bounce off of unheeding walls. Is anyone still here? "Open up!"

A small woman peers around the corner, "Who are you? A Granziar spy?"

"No, no!" I call after her. She shrinks away, as though I will infect her. "I am Lady Kaitra! I am Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys's daughter!"

I bite my tongue even as the words slip by. They flowed so naturally, as though they were true.

She comes back to the iron scrolling and stares me down. Finally, she reaches for the latch. "Your parents aren't here, but Llyendal is. I suppose you can go and find something decent to wear there."

"They aren't here? Where are they?" I ask, frantic.

She laughs at me, "You pretend to forget so much, Lady Kaitra! They lead our soldiers in battle. I believe they and Honorable Urien are in the southeast somewhere. Word is scarce."

I thank her and walk quickly away, her words burning in my mind. Why does she think I pretend to forget? I never knew this to begin with! Why do they all think I know what goes on around me? The only thing I have learned here is how little I know.

I only hope Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys are safe.

I make my way down the desolate streets to the manor house, Llyendal they call it, and mourn for the bustling town that Cordina was. No one sticks their head out of their house to wave kindly. No tantalizing smells waft through the streets and alleys. Everything is silent. Even in my short time here, I enjoyed the friendly bustle. It was so quaint and inviting. It felt like a place that I could call home.

I let myself in the front door of the manor house and make my way up to the room they gave me while I was here. It is just as I left it, with only a thin layer of dust protecting the stillness. I go to the trunk. The lid sticks a bit as I lift it, and I wince at the whine in the unforgiving hinges. I pull out a day dress with a waistcoat and lay them on the bed. I wish I could go speak to Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys. I need someone to talk to, someone that can do something about this.

I thought pops into my head, and I leave the dress where it lies and descend to the basement closet. I pull three or four nicer dresses and struggle with them until one fits my slight frame. My hair I put in a simple braid. I slip the leather shoes onto my feet and lace the straps.

It doesn't seem safe, though, to leave the manor without some sort of weapon with war upon us. Obviously something is horribly amiss, and I would serve no one's purpose by getting lynched by Granzians still lurking about. I slip into the armory and take a longsword, for a bow would be of little use in a surprise attack. The weight against my side is a small comfort, even if I would be as much danger to myself as to an attacker if I ever tried to use it. I am as ready as I can be.

I make my way through the streets towards the castle. There were no pegasuses in the stable at the manor house, but I had expected them to all be deployed. It is not a far walk to the stone fortress, though, and I need the time to clear my head and organize my thoughts.

I beat the knocker against the stable door only twice before a rather heavyset man opens it and admits me in. I soon figure out where all the people have gone— they are crowded into the stable and probably throughout the rest of the fortress. I squeeze my way past them meticulously, apologizing as I go. The citizens of Cordina let me by graciously, and I nod in thanks.

"What do you need, miss?" A guard asks me.

"I need to speak to Master Hulderic and Madame Rhiannon immediately," I answer.

He laughs quietly, "Miss, the Master and Madame can't speak with everyone at any time. All these people wish to speak with them as well."

"You don't understand! I am Lady Kaitra, Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys's daughter! I must speak with Master and Madame. This is of utmost importance."

His eyebrows rise, "Lady Kaitra is on a journey at the moment."

"That's what I've come to speak with them about. I had to leave Traugott, Calanthe, and Briallen in Granziar in a dungeon. I've come to get them help. Let me speak to them!"

The guard begs my forgiveness, and we thread through the cramped halls together to the royal chambers. As we walk, I think about the measures I used to get here. Not only did I mention Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys, but I also portrayed rescue as my purpose in coming. I know not if I am lying. I'm not even sure what I believe about myself at the moment.

The guard stops before a large oaken door and knocks three sharp times. I hold my breath and wait impatiently for the door to open.

But what am I going to say?

₰Traugott₰

Briallen fails to return for an hour, maybe more. I try to read to pass the time, but between the boring subject matter—the history of Granziar—and the absence of Briallen, my eyes only skim the pages restlessly. Calanthe is even less focused. I know she's anxious to see her sister again, even if they've fought hand and fist this whole time. Surely they will bring her back to us soon.

Hours later, a knock snaps us to attention. Calanthe and I both stand as the door is flung open.

Cyneric grips Briallen by the arm, his face twisted in an evil grin, his eyes alight with anger. Across her face are small welts where rough, inquiring hands have lost their patience. Calanthe rushes towards her, but the guards restrain her and force her back to my side.

"Briallen has been convicted of attempted poisoning. She's moving to a different part of the complex. You two are Yuragwyn's prizes anyway. I don't think anyone could love such a soul as this one."

I bite my lip as Calanthe strains and wails for Briallen's receding figure. Where are they taking her? Will we ever see her again? I cry out in anger at my powerlessness. What have I done? I have completely and miserably failed.

The door latches and it is just Calanthe and me in the small room. We don't say anything to each other. Calanthe's eyes are red and raw from tears, and her breath is still ragged. After staring at the walls listlessly for a long time, we eat our food and return to our literature, the only company we have left.