Rhiannon - Child of Twilight
Chapter 1 - Page 1
Winter's Whispers

The rage of snow and wind whirled about the shuttered windows in the deep of night like whispers from the dead. Gasping once for air, Morgan sat straight up in bed in a rush of cold sweat. For a moment he sat with his mouth open and his eyes staring wildly into the depths of the darkness. Finally remembering where he was, a slow breath escaped from him as his mind softened into a drifting state and he could feel his muscles relax. In his mental wandering an amused memory wafted before him, so he grasped for it.

Earlier he had gone to the kitchens of the Greathouse and Court of Ian where a fire still burned low, knowing some snatches of cheese and bread would still be remaining about from the evening�s meal. Sitting near the fire with a portion, he heard voices in the halls entwined with a woman�s delighted laughter. Her form slightly appeared in the entrance as a tingling of bells tuned from her clothes and hair. “You're a wanton child and should repent.” A deep voice said, “You'll be repaid your lavish sins and depravity.” But she laughed at this and shook her long walnut colored hair to let the bells play their sweet, frivolous music. “You waste your time,” said another voice to the first, “all her folk are evil... That the Lord Ian continues their presence amazes me. Can he not see the very devil in their eyes?” Sensuously toying with the wall, the woman glimpsed Morgan and smiled before laughing again at the men in the darkened hall. In disgust the two men left, their footsteps echoing heavily as they went.

Morgan smiled widely, his eyes soft and amused. “Whatever 'have' you been up to, my Genevieve?” She said nothing, but slightly danced about him as she took some bread he held and ate it. For a moment she put her face closely up to his, letting her hair fall across him midst the laughter of bells. Then as suddenly, she laughed in the same tones and dashed from the rooms leaving Morgan to chuckle lightly, shaking his head.

And now in the midst of the deep night, Morgan smiled again in his thoughts as he sank back into bed. Reaching over to find his lover and mentor, Kyle, Morgan found he was alone. This startled him out of his revelry as he remembered his dream when he first gasped to consciousness. He turned about, noting the faint stream of light from an inner room. “Kyle... was I dreaming?”

A graying figure entered back into the room where Morgan lay. “No, Morgan, it was not a dream... We must pack now and leave by dawn... How many Runners do we have at Court at present?”

“Five... including Genevieve.” Said Morgan fondly as he lit a candle next to the bed.

Folding clothing together, Kyle reflected, “We must take them all with us. And we must not take any of Lord Ian's Guard.”

“All the Runners and both of us? 'One' of us must stay.” Insisted Morgan, frowning and watching Kyle closely.

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