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Rebecca Lerwill

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Member Since: Jul, 2007

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A Kingdom's Sacrifice
by Rebecca Lerwill
Thursday, December 13, 2007

Not rated by the Author.

       
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     This epilogue is meant to be read by candle light in the safe heaven of your castle. I hope you enjoy it with a good drop of the nectar of the Gods and that it will be as enchanting to read as it was to write.

…And the owl hooted her nightly song, as the early dusk’s twilight manifested the sky with the vivid evidence of eventide. Far beyond the snowcapped mountains the seven Warriors of the Sacred Union gathered quietly around her for their final assemblage.

Sir Algernon strode forward, his walk tall and proud, his steel shielded chest guard reflecting the very last of this forever decisive day’s sun beams.

He was the leader, the Knight of the Union, the protector of the forsaken, the doyen of the loyal guardians who have never left his side in this dangerous journey of preserving the ancient cycle of the lost days.

And now, as he had done so many times prior, he lowered down onto one knee before the divine Lady Julyia, taking her alabaster skinned palm very softly into his. He hesitated for an instant and then almost unnoticeably leaned forward to let his lips brush tenderly a faint kiss onto the velvety skin of her hand. A soft breeze of sweet, lilac scented air gently lifted the wispy handkerchief sleeve of her gown and draped it silently over his armored forearm. It seemed like Mother Nature wrapped herself carefully around the pair granting her unuttered blessings.

Sir Algernon lifted his gaze to meet hers and he finally spoke “My Lady, you are safe now. The power of the eclipse will protect you.” Lowering his head and voice he tried to suppress the great pain he suffered as his soul cried out in silent agony. Our deed is done, my Lady. We shall return to the tribe of Ladoomia to follow the trail of the Forgotten.”

Sir Algernon could not speak anymore. His responsibilities were fulfilled and his duties absolute. He had cared for her asylum and guarded her with his life during this last, dangerous journey. To sacrifice his own life would have been a great pleasure knowing it would have saved hers.

He would never see her again.

His forbidden love for Lady Julyia had been a passionate, blazing inferno in his chest for many years. Unsuccessfully, he had fought to control and even ignore the burning desire which seemed to consume him like a dragon’s inflamed breath. But she too had felt the deep bond between them. Unable to allow its liberation; her heart had experienced the same dark sadness of a caged, in desperation fluttering bird which would never see the light of day again.

As the daughter of Muzaar, the King of Fabelland she was to marry the prince of the neighboring hierarchy to keep piece in these difficult times of unrest. Her enchanting person and generous kindness would guarantee the peaceful future of this great land and its people who dearly loved her as their forthcoming queen. The new and precious life her divine body was going to create would merge the ancient bloodlines and build a coalition between the two hateful and rivaling clans, transforming them into covenant.

Before her mental eye she saw the inevitable perpetuity she would encounter very soon. Lady Julyia spoke with a silvery whisper, “Stand, my warrior,” she barely lay her hand on top of his, touching him ever so lightly. He obeyed his Lady just lifting his head, but then he rose to his full height, towering before her, and never letting go of her delicate hand. They remained in silence, standing close and feeling each other’s warmth. Antagonizing over one another’s helplessness but also desperately yearning to be strengthened by the integrity and pride they both shared His mesmerizing gaze searched the endless depth of her dark, clouded eyes and found her troubled soul deep within.

With a voice like the shadow of a breath she asked him one last time, “What can I offer to change this noble Knight’s mind? To stay and be this Lady’s personal guard and protector?”

He swallowed away the sharp pain as his heart was breaking. No wound inflicted in battle, however lethally it might be, could be this tremendous and lasting.

“My Lady, this warrior soughs to protect the ones he serves and honors; he’d fail to protect the one he loves.”

With these words he lifted her hand back to his lips and smoothed a kiss as soft as the touch of a butterfly’s wing onto her skin.

Time had come to say farewell and he saw the tears fill her beautiful eyes like a deep pool of sadness drowning her soul. But only one tear spilled. The evidence of her agonized heart rolled slowly down her cheek and he had to fight the urge of gently kissing it away. He had already stepped over the line and they both were well aware of it.

He had been enthralled by this maiden but any further involvement would greatly endanger the peaceful future of his nation. They both had to sacrifice their forbidden desire and deep love for each other to safe this promising land of another terrifying conflict. Too much blood had been spilled in the past, too many men had sadly lost their lives and too many mothers, daughters and sisters had cried endless tears. But now there was peace and to keep truce in order this Knight and his Lady had to spill their tears instead.

 

Sir Algernon finally let go of her and stepped to his black, in shiny steel armored horse. The stallion nickered quietly at first but then he wildly shook his head. His long mane was flowing in the wind like the silken flag of a proud soldier in battle. Then he cried out and stood still, feeling his master’s pain.

With sad eyes Lady Julyia watched as her warrior mounted his horse, just to turn around to her one last time. Suddenly the stallion reared high, striking out with his front legs, letting go an unearthly scream as if he could fight away the painful desperation his master suffered.

Their eyes met in silent understanding and it took all of her strength and courage to stand tall and speak out, “Sir Algernon, proud warrior. May the peace of the eclipse be with you, always!”

His devoted six knights had been standing back, awaiting their commander to lead them into a new adventure. They gathered around him now, cupping him into their midst, and comforting him with their loyal brotherhood, as they disappeared into the encroaching darkness.

With this she turned away and just like her brave Knight rode off to an unknown future, she walked on toward a life she was supposed to live; to love a man she never would, to sacrifice herself for the lasting peace of her forefather’s land.~~~~~~~


 
 
 
 

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Reviewed by Kalikiano Kalei 2/16/2008
Very resonant! It reminds me of the following:
---------------------
Eros and Thanatos At The Juncture of Lovemaking (May 1992)

for M.

Pictures curl together a locket,
strands of soul untouched by sun;
each to each, held warm to the breastbone, each one.

You in Babylonian sky, hot midafternoon;
you, hurrying to your temple
laden with tablets: grain reports,
taxes, tallies of household slaves.
I crashed into you, aflutter with my perfumed duties;
cuneiform spilled onto the stones
and scurried away in a swarm of wedge-shaped ants.
The blessings of Inanna, I murmured
and then the flood washed us both away
like so much silt from the Tigris

(Had I only known you then)

I would have danced my scarves in the temple moonlight

You in ritual mask, eyes hidden behind goddess;
knowing that the lot has been drawn,
even your daughter, firstborn -
did I protest the sacrifice, my love,
gazing at you with questioning cateyes
to make your needs upset the sacred scales?
I did not. I bowed low, forehead to the ground
that was your goddess feet, and rose
to climb the hill of lava
and sacred death

(Had I only held you then)

We would have commanded the sun to still

In moonlight hot as fire,
an alpine chill breathing jealous cold
at our castle walls;
you are drunk enough to halt in your ghost tale
to slosh against my wife's ear -
I did not challenge you to duel, then;
at least not in earnest. Or to the death.
But I partook of wine and incense
and swore brotherhood by ancient rite -
and the incense smoke curled curls
giving birth to phantoms made of moon, Alby,
to contracts signed in much essence

(Had I not drowned in your seas)

A prodigious poem we would have made, in Attic Greek

The jungle wavers, hot with blood
darkness of sunlight
lust. And your youth in quiltwork,
my friend, all thread embroidery spilling
out of the basket, onto the yellow silk
red of the Asian soil:
your tapestry cried to be unwoven:
How could I refuse Atropos, to hold you yet to me?
Thus I swallowed my jealousy of the shadow lover
and stood in her place, again,
sending you that time to her arms
knowing the whore would have me next.
And I stared scrying into your entrails' weavings,
seeing your soul fly west
on the back of the bird


(Had we not stopped for death)

We would have damned ourselves for eternity some more

You are soul in weavings still,
a cord that braids itself in my hand
to become a Kundalini serpent, unknowing.
Night sky and hot fire from the candles
witness our sacred marriage
our rite of rebirth, our re-remembering
in these bodies warm and masked in love's
bare bones encased in flesh.
Your arms holding me phoenix
in the heart of the hierogram;

Soul strands, links of fire,
passion the outstretched arms of death -
and from your embrace, Mystic Sister,
I draw forth my breath:

I would pray to my muse to teach a scythe to sing

Reviewed by R Beeman 12/15/2007
written with intuition and intrigue. great character development and story line. i like your style in writing fantasy romance. you have the elements of a great novel for us to read. be blessed.

always,
randy
Reviewed by Felix Perry 12/14/2007
This is a truly wonderous story that conjures up the visions of glory of Knights and Dames, I am also pleased to say that I had the lovley oportunity to preview this and join with Rebecca to do a collaboration poem linked to this short story. I will be posting it in the next few days and hope you will enjoy as much as this story. Thank you Rebecca for allowing me the pleasure and honour of joinign with you in that endeavor.

Fee
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 12/14/2007
Wonderful story, Rebecca; brava!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 12/13/2007
i do love these midievil tales of forbidden love-well written

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