A Meeting Water was hard to come by these days, as hard to come by as the cool weather that everyone longed for. The drought had dried up everything throughout all the village of Impersonyea; the grass, brown and blackened crackled under the hooves of the cattle and sheep that were still alive. Carcasses of animals lay in the fields were pecked at by vultures and crows, the sun beating down on the land, the trees barren of leaves, it was a desolate time for the people of this once fine village. Dragging themselves about their business, the few dusty faced people still in the city wore depressed looks on their tan and dirt covered faces. Their once colorful clothes now covered with dust and blood, were torn and smelled as if they had been burned by something foul that was not of this world. Those that were still alive drug dead and mangled bodies to a cart near the edge of the city to be buried upon the hill over looking their village. War and drought were a common occurrence now, and the villagers longed for the days a few springs back when the grass was green, the air cool and war was something none had ever seen but only heard of before. His shiny black boots treaded the ground lightly as a tall man in fine silk picked his way through the mass of dead bodies and dusty villagers. Walking quickly he found his way to the largest building in the village. The only one made of brick, on it hung a sign depicting it as the Inn of Wines. Pushing through the large doors and past a black gelding tied to the post, the man found himself standing in the common room of the inn. Few people sat at the tables, most of them serving maids resting from their chores. At one table sat a young woman wearing a dress of fine silk, the color of a bright blue sky. Her long raven hair had been pulled back into a blue ribbon and hung down to her waist, blue sapphires scattered throughout. A chain of diamonds wrapped around the top of her head coming together in the center and attaching to a large blue sapphire that hung in the middle of her forehead. Her feet were slippered in the same color of silk as her dress and she wore no other jewelry but that already in her hair. Turning the page of an old tattered book she paid no heed to anything around her but the silver goblet of bloodwyne that she sipped from occasionally. Clapping her thick hands together loudly, a pleasantly plump woman wearing an apron tied about her bulk ushered the serving maids back to work. Curtseying before him she said, �My lord, welcome to the Inn of Wines. I am Hannah and I run this inn. May I be of some service to you this day? We have fine beds, food and wine, whatever you wish shall be provided for you.� Glancing up from her curtsey she gasped for he was a handsome man. Standing at a height of six foot eight he was very muscular. Short curly brown hair covered his head and a short beard covered his face. His silver silk shirt was unlaced part of the way to let heat escape and his breeches hugged his tight ass and muscular thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination; he was hung like a horse some women had said about him. His black cloak swayed slightly and he looked down at the woman with his yellow gold eyes. In a soft voice he said, �I seek a particular woman. She is short with long golden brown hair that she keeps braided all the time. She goes by the name of Veiron.� Leaping down from the rafters a young woman of four foot nine with long white hair past her waist planted herself between him and the innkeeper staring up into the man�s eyes. Her pale green eyes showed no emotion as she planted her fists on her hips. In a cold voice the woman said, �I know the one you speak of. She is a good friend of mine,� she poked a long nailed finger in his ribs and said in a cruel tone, �What do you want with Veiron?� Looking down at her finger, he gently removed it from his chest and pushed her hand down to her side, eyeing her calmly. His eyes flashing gold with sadness he sad in a low voice, �What is your name my lady and how do you know my sister?� �So she is your sister, huh? Heh! My name is Darius Night, and how I know her is none of your concern,� tapping her foot she looked away briefly then back at him, �Veiron never mentioned having a brother, but I do see the resemblance in your faces.� Grabbing Darius�s shoulders he picked her up off the ground holding her at his eye level. �Where is she? Where is Veiron?� �Put me down you brute! I will not be manhandled this way. Put me down and I will tell you.� Remembering his massive strength and calming himself slightly he set her down on the floor, his gold eyes flashing angrily. �There, that suits me much better. Now as for your sister I assume she is off on her honeymoon,� she said calmly while rubbing her shoulders. His eyes bulged practically out of his head, in a disbelieving voice he asked, �What do you mean, off on her honeymoon? She cannot be married, not without�,� he trailed off combing his thick fingers through his curly hair. Looking up at him quizzically she said in a comforting tone, �I should think you happy for her, uh, whatever your name is. But I was a witness to the wedding myself. She do be married and to a fine man I might add.� Shaking his head and muttering incoherently in his native tongue he fell to his knees, running his fingers through his hair and tugging at it as if pulling it out. Crying out pitifully and in a loud booming voice he called his sister�s name, �Veirrrrrrrooooonnnn! Oh my dear sweet sister! What have I done? I�m sorry,� his voice grew to a whisper, �so sorry, so very sorry.� Finally noticing her surroundings the woman looked up from her old tattered book. Eyeing the handsome man on the floor weeping she marked her place in her book and stood smoothing her skirts. Hating to see anyone in pain and sad she went to him and knelt next to him, placing a small soft hand on his large muscular shoulder. In a small, tentative, sweet voice she asked him, �My lord? Why do you cry out so? What breaks your heart so much that you act in such a way?� Her pale green eyes looked at him with compassion and concern, wanting to help him in some way despite the fact that helping a stranger was dangerous these days. His body shook with rage, sadness, and possibly even a hint of fear. He looked up at her sweet angelic face; his gold eyes glistening with tears wanting to fall but that did not. He would not let the tears fall, not in front of a lady; he was too proud for that. She smelled of herbal soap and he could sense in her the compassion showing in her eyes. In the same sweet and caring voice as before she said quietly, �Come my lord. Dry your eyes and buck up. A lord such as yourself should not act as such,� she stood tugging at his arm lightly indicating for him to stand. He did so but slowly and with great reluctance. She gasped loudly as she looked up at him, for he towered over her by a great distance. Quickly trying to hide her gasp she patted his arm lightly, smiling and said, �What is your name my lord? So that I might call you by your proper name and title.� Her smile warm and glowing strengthened his heart and the sadness in him began to subside slightly. In a deep masculine voice he told her, �My name, my lady, is Dimitri Ivon Saydei. Please call me Dimitri and know that I am no lord. Only a simple man searching for his sister, whom he has not seen in years,� he smiled at her as well although it was a weak smile. The small woman smiled up at him and spoke softly, �Come and sit with me. My name is Mistletoe. Please, call me Mist. I might be able to help you find your sister.� She gently pulled on his arm and even though he did not trust easily, he felt he could trust this woman, and so he followed her to her table and they talked of many things. |
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