Daughter of Regret

Written in response to: End your story with a character standing in the rain.... view prompt

17 comments

Fantasy Sad Lesbian

Danielle stood with the crowd that constituted the surviving population of Leonor City. There were hundreds of them, but not the thousands there should have been.

            On a platform meant for hanging criminals Queen Malin stood to address her people. She held up her hands to quell the muttering.

            “People of Crann, we have survived. No other nation which faced Righteous Cane’s empire can say that. Thank you.” Her blue left eye looked concerned. The brown eye was stern. “I have tragic news for you all. This morning King Dermot died of his wounds from the Battle of Worldworm’s Bridge.”

            Gasps passed through the crowd in a wave. King Dermot’s recovery was something the city had held out hope for since the Battle of Worldworm’s Bridge. Looking at the queen Danielle saw relief on the woman’s face. It was a relief perhaps to share her grief with her people and to see the love for the king in those who were crying.

            “These are dangerous times,” said the queen. She used a cone to amplify her voice. “We survived the siege and the battles, but we have been diminished. Few men remain after giving their lives for us. My beautiful king included.” She hung her head for a moment in what felt more to Danielle like stagecraft than genuine emotional expression. “We must mourn them yes, but we must also celebrate them.” She looked out into the crowd, leaning on the railing of the stage to peer out at the gathering.

            “Those we lost did not give their lives for nothing. They kept us alive and now we must honour them.” People around Danielle nodded with tears in their eyes. Queen Malin was nodding, mirroring their behaviour.

            Behind the gallows was the blackened scene of northern Leonor which had been burnt to cinders by the siege weapons of the empire.

            “Tonight, we shall feast in the name of all those who saved us. We shall remember them forevermore. Tomorrow-” She looked around the crowd again, seeming to make eye contact with every man, woman and child there.

            “Tomorrow we will begin to rebuild Leonor City. We will remake ourselves as a nation. The Kingdom of Crann prevailed against the empire and blocked the way at Worldworm’s Bridge but the empire will return.”

            From agreeing with everything she said and smiling at the thought of honouring their loved ones the faces of the crowd had turned to stone. On the stage, surrounded by the survivors of her royal bodyguards and Danielle’s friend Sir Fabian, she played the crowd like an instrument.

            “They cannot return tomorrow, nor this week, this month or this year. I have scouts on horseback at the bridge to bring word of any movement there. But Emperor Righteous Cane is not one to let our victory pass. His armies will return one day to take vengeance against us. When they do, we will be ready.

            When volunteers stood on the wall during the first night of battle, they were untrained, facing soldiers with years of experience. That will never happen again. From here on I will implement mandatory military training for all physically able citizens. When you are next called to fight, you will be ready.”

            People in the crowd exchanged questioning glances.

            “All of you will be trained to fight imperials. The armourers, the bowyers, the fletchers, and the smiths will never want for work again. I intend for every citizen of fighting age to have their own armour, sword, bow and arrows. When the time comes you will have every advantage in the fight to come. This city will be ready.” Though she was repeating the word ready to put it in the minds of the people, their dumbstruck faces said the message might take longer to sink in. Queen Malin waited.

            “I have signal bells in every tower on the wall to alert the city of attack. As I did before, I will do everything in my power to protect you all. Everything and anything. In the past magic was viewed with suspicion. Rightly so I admit. But the cursed rain handed us victory in the Battle of Crosston Hill.”

            Peasants who had cheered witches burning on the pyre grumbled in the crowd.

            “I must say again that the empire will return. Embracing witchcraft may well be the difference between survival and defeat.” She shook her head with closed eyes. “I will not accept defeat. Will you? Would you rather die than use magic to survive?”

            Thinking the question aimed at them, some shrugged.

            Queen Malin went on. “Thrice we have been saved by magic or the knowledge of it. When the prison was taken by the werewolves-”

            Danielle winced. It was not that she disagreed with Queen Malin but that the beasts from the prison had been loup garous, not werewolves. She only knew that thanks to her friend Lupita. Lupita’s mother had been the most recent witch to burn at the stake, years before.

            “When we used the cursed trees to defend the walls and the cursed rain which drove our enemies mad at Crosston Hills. Without that we would all be dead. ALL of us.

            We have lost much.” The queen nodded again. “We have lost many, but what we have left, we have thanks to magic. So, I ask you, will you embrace magic to survive?”

            Faces in the crowd, mostly women, pondered the question. They had all been raised to fear magic and to hate those who practiced the craft. Some faces were nodding already. The stereotypical dark brown hair on their heads bounced in plaits where it was not cut short. Many of them had their hair cut almost to their scalp to mark the loss of their loved ones.

            “Aye,” shouted someone. More followed.

            “WILL WE DEFEAT THE EMPIRE AGAIN?” The queen roared.

            “AYE!”

            “Then prepare yourselves good people. Tonight, we feast.” Queen Malin held up her clenched fists. Many in the crowd echoed her.

            Cheers were muffled by conversations about everything they had been told. The people of Leonor had been given plenty to think about.

            The queen left the stage and was escorted back to the castle by knights like Fabian who seemed perfect for the role. There as well was Lady Guinevere who had commanded soldiers at the counterstrike that blocked Worldworm’s Bridge. Guinevere had hinted that a knighthood might not be so far off for Danielle either.

            As the people dispersed, gossiping, Danielle had the time to think that her armour was incredibly heavy. She had barely been out of chainmail since fighting on the northern wall on the first battle of the siege. Without it she felt vulnerable.

            “Danielle?” It was a voice that awoke pain and anger inside her. “Danielle is that you?” She turned to look upon the speaker, a woman past her fortieth year. It had not been so much as two years since she had set sight upon her mother, but decades seemed to have gnawed at the woman.

            “No,” she said. “You’re mistaken.”

            “I know my daughter when I see her,” said the woman in anger.

            Bitter laughter burst from Danielle Longbow’s mouth. Passers by stared at her, a warrior with a shield and sword cackling like a madwoman.

            “You know your daughter when you see her? Really? Were you struck blind and deaf for every day since turning me out of your home until now? Did you cast a spell upon me as you relinquished your daughter that has only this moment worn off?” Danielle realised that she was shouting at the top of her lungs with everyone around her watching.

            It seemed beneath the dignity of a knight to be for her to shout in the street like a drunk. She leaned closer to the woman who had abandoned her years before. Pointing an accusing forefinger at the nose of the woman from Fisher’s Gasp she whispered.

            “You have not been my mother since the day you threw me out of my home and told all and sundry that you had no daughter. You made that choice. Not I.” Deep emotions that had been sitting in her stomach since that fateful day had her shivering with rage. She wasn’t sure if she would cry or throttle her former mother in the street.

            She turned and tried to walk away.

            Alexandra grabbed Danielle’s arm. The muscular form of her daughter inflated with a deep intake of breath as the warrior turned with a deadly look in her eye. From that glare Alexandra backed away, sniffing.

            “Fuck off Alexandra. Go back to your husband. You always loved him more than me anyway.”

            “He’s dead.” Her mother sobbed, her whole body sagging. Despite herself Danielle felt the impulse to hug the woman.

            “My condolences.” Danielle yanked her arm from her mother’s grasp and strode away with long strides that quickly hurt her legs. She wanted to be out of sight as fast as possible.

            Turning back to check her mother had not followed she saw Alexandra standing where she had left her. The bones in her mother’s legs looked to be dissolving as she sank to her knees, ignored by the public. The warrior cursed the guilt she felt.

            Before she knew it, she was at the door of the Castel household where she had been living at the invitation of Sir Fabian since the day they’d met outside the prison. The day Fabian’s father had died.

            The home was beautiful in the way many homes of Leonor were. The lower floor was granite, the upper floor wattle and daub. The woodwork was artfully crafted. It had been repainted when Fabian took control of his father’s estate. The white of the panels was highlighted by the crimson of the beams beneath the tiled roof.

            Many of the homes in the district were painted. Some had glazed windows. Anything to show off the money they had by the bucket. Retrieving her key from the pouch where she kept her lack of coin, Danielle let herself in.

            The seat of the Castel family had been diminished by the fight with a foreign empire. Fabian and his mother had donated much of the collection of armour accumulated by Fabian’s father. Armour and weapon racks on the walls sat empty. Fabian’s mother Paulina was talking of selling off the paintings to keep the household going as Leonor’s economy was stalling.

            “Welcome home,” said Lady Paulina from the balcony. Danielle wondered if Fabian’s mother had been waiting there for someone to talk to. Like most survivors of the siege, many of her friends were dead.

            “You didn’t go to the announcement?” Danielle asked, laying down her unicorn emblazoned shield and setting her sword on the nearest empty stand on the wall.

            “I already knew the king was dead,” said Paulina casually.

            “How?”

            “Because I know many of the queen’s inner circle. If I was more politically minded, I might have found myself by her side as well. It’s not true you know.” The elegant lady of Leonor descended the stairs in a beautiful dress with her hair down and not a drop of makeup on her face which was a rare and ominous thing.

            “What’s not true?” Danielle asked, taking the woman’s bait.

            “Queen Malin’s story about the king. He died at Worldworm’s Bridge. No one managed to recover the body. Righteous Cane’s hounds are probably still parading around with it.”

            “He died at Worldworm’s Bridge?” Danielle asked in a high-pitched squeak.

            “With all but a handful of the hundreds he took with him. They were caught in a pincer movement, penned in from both sides. The survivors said that for every man they killed two more marched across the bridge from Worm’s Mount Castle. There was already an army waiting in the Cairn Hills to trap them as they faced the main force on the bridge.

            I think the saddest thing is that if Lorenzo hadn’t died in the prison fighting the monsters, then he would certainly have died by the king’s side. Knights are brave men. I was always enamoured by the way Lorenzo fought through his fear, but he was always going to die a violent death. Now Fabian has sworn his oath to Queen Malin, all I can think of at night is that he will die in battle like his father. Those who live by the sword die by it.” A glass of wine appeared as if from thin air in Paulina’s hand. In a moment the ruby elixir was gone.

            “Fabian is a great warrior,” Danielle said to comfort the grieving wife. She put a hand on Lady Castel’s shoulder.

            “He is.” Paulina nodded. “But he will never be the equal of his father. Lorenzo was one of the greatest swordsmen this world has ever known. It didn’t save him. It only takes one slip, a moment’s hesitation.” Whether it was seeing that Paulina needed it or because she did, Danielle threw her arms around Fabian’s mother.

            “Anything I can do to protect him I will. When the empire returns, I will be by his side.” Paulina pulled away from her embrace and stared hard into her eyes.

            “No. Don’t say that. You’ve not sworn an oath. You’re not bound by family. The best thing you can do is leave. Head south, far enough the empire can’t reach you. The Castel family should have headed back to Litore when the Empire of the Holy Proclamation took that ridiculous name and started conquering the world. You must leave, Danielle. Save yourself.” Paulina’s grip was painful on her shoulders even through the chainmail.

            “I’m not my parents. I don’t turn my back on friends and family,” the anger she felt for her mother came out when she pulled Paulina’s fingers from her shoulders.

            “Another noble fool,” the mother smiled. “No wonder I like you, you’re as mad as Fabian and his father. It’s a shame he never lived to meet you. Lorenzo would have had the two of you married in a heartbeat.” Somehow restored by the thought the matriarch smiled.

            Danielle blushed.

            “I doubt Fabian has any interest in me,” she said.

            “Don’t be so sure dear. He invited you to live with us the day he met you. Even if he finds another woman for himself, she’ll have to live up to your example, if any woman ever could.” Paulina’s eyes measured her as if she was going to buy her clothes.

            “He’s a kind soul. The best man I’ve ever known. He has his choice of warrior women now.” Danielle thought of the women trained on Queen Malin’s orders during the first week of the siege who fought in the second night on the wall after the remaining men of the city had been slaughtered.

            “If he were less noble, I’m sure Fabian would tell you that there is a difference between those who take up the sword only when they must to save what is theirs and those who do so in defence of others. You have proven yourself the latter.” The lady of the house stared at her empty wine glass.

            “Take off your armour my dear. Use your muscles to carry wine and beer for the feast tonight. Queen Malin is an astute woman. We all need a distraction from reality right now. There is a wheelbarrow somewhere we should make use off.”

            Danielle managed to carry a keg of beer and a barrel of wine to the town square where everyone had taken out the tables and chairs. Taverns had relocated entirely to the streets. Braziers and oil lamps were waiting to fill in for the sun when darkness fell.

            Women like Danielle seemed to have compromised with their sense of security by wearing their swords but not the armour which had been given out during the siege. Those of different social strata stuck to their own but passed tankards along tables.

            Venison roasted on spits over the cobbles. Bread that had gone hard was softened in broth of various qualities. As the food and drink flowed, the stories were told. Toasts to the fallen started as pints each, but people soon realised drinking to every dead defender was a quick way to die.

            Leaving Paulina with a friend who Fabian’s mother had assumed was dead, Danielle snuck away. Eventually she found Lupita Smith who had risen to a place in the queen’s outer circle of advisers. Her father, a mountainous smith looked painfully uncomfortable between knights of the highborn families.

            Lupita embraced Danielle long and hard when she saw the daughter of Darren the Disgraced standing in the flickering shadow of a brazier. The drunken knight’s daughter had been marvelling at her tolerance with all the muscle she had packed on since stealing her father’s shield and sword.

            “You’re here. I worried about you when you rode to Worldworm’s Bridge. You must be blessed. Fate smiles upon you.” Lupita had an optimistic fire in her eyes unlike anyone else Danielle had seen that night.

            “Most people smile when they’re laughing. I’m sure Fate is no different,” Danielle Longbow smiled a weak smile.

            “And you’re funny as well?” Lupita didn’t smell as drunk as she sounded. “Fabian will have to propose before someone else beats him to it.” Suddenly her brown eyes looked concerned. She brushed back her growing mass of frizzy black hair. Her dark brown skin in the orange light was warm and inviting. Danielle wanted to hug her and never let go.

            “Don’t let his mother hear you say that. She’s already suggested it today.”

            As soon as the words hit Lupita’s ears, her face sank a little. Instead of listening to the butterflies in her stomach, Danielle initiated a drinking game that left them both unconscious.

September 24, 2021 15:37

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17 comments

L M
12:15 Nov 19, 2022

Paulina is cool. She should be in more of the stories. And more of Fabian.

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Graham Kinross
13:41 Nov 19, 2022

She’s in a few more.

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L M
06:16 Nov 20, 2022

Cool.

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Graham Kinross
12:34 Apr 15, 2022

Thank you for reading the story. If you want to know what happens next then you can use this link to keep going. https://blog.reedsy.com/short-story/snj7hs/

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Aoi Yamato
06:43 Jun 01, 2023

are these characters like people you know?

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Graham Kinross
10:12 Jun 01, 2023

I take inspiration from real life. I like sarcastic people so there are a lot like that in my stories. I think humour is a good backbone for any story, no matter the genre.

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Aoi Yamato
01:03 Jun 02, 2023

isnt sarcasm isulting?

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Graham Kinross
04:59 Jun 02, 2023

It depends on the culture. In some sarcasm is expected.

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Aoi Yamato
01:42 Jun 05, 2023

that is odd to me

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Graham Kinross
06:13 Jun 05, 2023

That’s understandable. I know conversations between people from different places that didn’t go well because of conflicting culture.

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Drizzt Donovan
12:45 Jul 25, 2023

Danielle reminds me of Drizzt because she has a strong morality that she uses to do the best even when it’s difficult and I see that it means a lot to you as well.

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Graham Kinross
22:14 Jul 25, 2023

Thank you.

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Drizzt Donovan
12:57 Jul 27, 2023

You’re welcome, or I’m a bearded gnome.

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