More Story – (This story needs a title!!!)

“Mother? Mother! What happened? Why are you sitting here in the upper hall?”

Kavia turned glazed eyes up at Arram and stared at him unseeing. Her skin seemed unnaturally pale in the harsh torchlight. Her lips moved as if trying to form words but only unintelligible mewling came out. As Arram uncertainly bent closer to his mother to try and decipher the strange sounds, her hand shot up and grabbed his doublet with an uncanny strength. Kavia pulled Arram toward her, an urgent, nearly panic stricken look now in her eye, opened her mouth to speak, and then fainted dead away.

Arram scooped his mother up in his arms. She felt light as a summer breeze and her skin was unnaturally cold. He was very worried. In all his 180 calendar turns, Arram had seen his mother unwell less than a handful of times. She had borne only two children, which was unusual in a land where only a select few were able to bear children and thus 12 or more offspring were the norm. Because of this Kavia had always seemed to have more stamina and health than other child bearers.

Arram stood in the hall holding his mother in his arms and looked around indecisively. He sensed that he should not take Kavia into the Crone’s room, even though they were standing right outside the door. As he was weighing whether to take her to her own room or to the nearest guest bed, Kavia shivered violently in his arms, nearly causing him to allow her to tumble onto the bare stone flooring. Arram quickly adjusted his arms, then looked down at Kavia. Her eyes were clear, if tinged with a bit of surprise, and the clamminess of her skin seemed to have dissipated.

“Put me down, you great clumsy bull-ox!” Kavia twisted Arram’s ear soundly, whereupon he gracelessly dropped her and began to rub his quickly reddening ear. A rueful grin spread across his face. He should have known that his mother would not be kept down long.

Kavia regained her composure, adjusted her skirts and swatted at her son. “Go on, go on! There’s work to be done and we’ve no time to pass the moon’s time here in the hall! Look at your clothes! Surely, you are not planning to wear that tattered and colorless tunic to welcome your sister! This is a grand celebration, not a funerary!”

“Are you all right mother? A moment ago you were not quite……..”

“Of course I’m all right. Do I not look all right? You have not come so far up in the world, young man, that you may question your mother with such disrespect. If you are not out of this hall in 3 seconds….”

Kavia never had to finish that sentence. Arram was already disappearing around the corner. As soon as she was sure he was gone, she leaned heavily against the wall. Most of her energy seemed drained and she didn’t even know why she was in this upper hall. The last thing she remembered was hitting her shin, and then finding……something. What was it? Kavia shook her head. Surely she was not nearing Dowager status yet. She was far too young and had birthed too few children for that. She had many calendar turns ahead of her yet. She had to. Joia must first be welcomed home and assume her position of Shayene before Kavia would have any time for rest.

Joia! Ashes of roses!!! Joia would be here soon, and there was work to be done. Enough drifting! Kavia began going over the list of tasks left to perform in her head as she hurried back down towards the Sechun Hall.

At that very moment in time, Joia was beginning to look for signs that her party was nearing the Keep. Surely her mother would have raised the 7-wolf banners of the Shayene, and she would be able to see them soon. Her father, worried like all fathers, must have sent an escort out to greet her. It had been a long and dusty journey and Joia was looking forward to a long cool bath before the festivities. She checked the position of the suns and moons in the sky, then urged her horse on a little faster. If she was going to have time to really enjoy that bath, she would have to hurry.

Joia turned to urge the rest of the entourage to hasten. Just as she raised her hand to signal speed, something hit her from behind with great speed and force, knocking her from the saddle. She had no time to call out and only just a moment to reflexively grasp her signet, and then to fret over missing her cool bath before hitting her head on the sun hardened clay and loosing all thought.