26. Travel to Calendar
Chapter 26
Travel to Calendar
“ I t is another day to Calendar, along the border of Azure’s lands and those of the Empires of Autumn,” Aidric said as their horses watered at the stream.
Celestine didn’t answer.
“The carriage can take us, Lady Celestine.”
“No,” she answered. “I will ride to Calendar, not be drawn forth like baggage.”
Aidric, the masked Captain of Calendar, nodded and waited. After a time, they sat astride their horses and walked them along the grand road to Calendar.
“What has happened while I have been gone these last months?” Celestine asked Aidric.
“Summer has reigned, my lady. The other lords await their turn with the final bride, some more eager than others.”
Celestine’s thoughts flashed to Vermilion. The pale predatory Lord of Spring. How his moans of torment had sounded those deep nights when she snuck out to ease his suffering.
“I am told… the summer harvest has been good for the people of the Painted Realm. Though there have been conflicts between martial forces, they have been organized instead of rabble-rousing. Trade is up in some sordid places. For a time, the Painted Realm turned to subjugation for forced labor, but that did end after a few decrees. Many babes have been born this Summer, and women have left the locked clasps of the houses meant to protect them as riders and soldiers patrol the lands hunting outlaws.”
Encarmine.
“It is also said many horses have been bred along the estates of the Painted Realm, my lady. Such an abundance that even children are learning to ride.”
As Celestine rode with Aidric, she felt a closeness to him. “Thank you, Captain. For saving me at Suncrown.”
“It was necessary, my lady. Lord Solis overstepped. It is important nothing happens to you. Lest the War of the Seasons continues.”
“Do you have a preference, Captain, of whom would sit where? Who would rule and order the others around?”
“I do not, Lady Celestine. Though balance would be paramount. The rules of the contest say that you can choose, at any end of season. You could pick a lord of summer.”
“And if I do not…”
“Your courtship continues,” Aidric finished for her. The Captain rode in perfect discipline, reins held perfectly in a silver gauntleted hand.“As designed. You will taste each of the dozen banners.
There is a strange magic to him, to all of Calendar. But he seems the focal point.
“You are not mortal, are you?” Celestine asked as they rode. On the left side of the road, the sun shone brightly across great fields of grass. On the right, it was another world. A beautiful and golden brown twisted forest, the hush of autumn beckoned her with its chill.
“I am a Captain of Calendar,” Aidric stated, his mirrored mask staring at the road ahead. She took in the figure of him. Large, stocky. Almost like one of the Lords of Season… almost.
“How did you come to serve Calendar?”
“I have always served, for I have always been.”
“Been what?”
Aidric continued riding, not looking at her. “Needed.”
There wasn’t more she could get from Captain Aidric than that. No portion of his skin showed underneath the dark clothing, polished mirror armor, or mask. How he saw, how he drank or ate, if he needed to, was a mystery.
That night, they made camp on the side of autumn. Celestine welcomed the change, the campfire giving more warmth against the chill of the falling temperature. Around her, leaves fell, trees shed their seed and finery.
Aidric fed her bread and meat. He stood upright, back to her, a tall, silvered spear in his hand, scanning the darkness.
“What do you keep watch for?”
“To keep his dark eyes from you, Lady Celestine. And others. Those that hunger. Many would see the Final Bride in a hunt instead of a courtship.”
“Whose dark eyes?”
“The most terrible of them. The one that always watches.” Aidric did not turn.
The Lord of the Black Banner. Blackdawn.
“Yet none approach.” Celestine bit into the bread, scented and spiced from the kitchens of Calendar.
“Yet none approach,” Aidric’s voice agreed.
Celestine drank from a flagon of wine and finished her meal. She stared at the wooden bowl and wooden spoon she had found tucked away in her saddle.
A final gift from him.
Her fingers ran over it, feeling the work of his knife. She wanted to keep it, to hold it close. But that would have been the same as keeping Garo in the stable and never riding him again.
She tossed it into the fire, watching it split and blacken and glow as it danced alight.
Celestine withdrew the pipe he had left her as well, and she packed it, lighting it with a twig. She puffed, watching the potent form of Aidric scanning the darkness, protecting her.
Somewhere deep in the woods,the largest wolf she had ever heard howled. Aidric shifted, bringing his spear up to stab, but it did not come any closer.
Celestine knew that nothing would touch their camp. It was just a certainty. The air buzzed as if it were alive when she was near Captain Aidric. She felt she recognized him somehow. She knew him.
“You said you protect us from Him. Is he close now?” Celestine looked around the forest.
“Yes,” Aidric said. “He waits. All walk to him… in the end. You are the Final Bride, lady Celestine. But he is the final groom of all. We are all wedded to him in the end.”
“What is his name?”
Aidric turned to the forest, spear gripped tight.
“You only know his name in the end.”
The shadow that seemed to envelop the camp finally lifted. The firelight glowed brighter, and Celestine stared into the fire.
That night, as she slept, she dreamed.
There was a dark throne in a court of shadow. Something waited for her there as she marched towards it. In the dream, she had been on such a long journey.
He waited for her. But in the dream, when she took his hand, her eyes still upon the floor, her very life seemed to drain away.
“ All come to me, in the end .”
When Celestine looked upon his face, she saw her own ruin. She stepped towards it. The darkest union, the darkest marriage. Such finality and eternity. When she saw a face that she couldn’t see, she woke.
Aidric watched her in the flickering firelight. He stood above her, spear in hand. Protecting her from the wolves and shadows that prowled somewhere beyond them.
Celestine stared into his mirrored eyes and mask.
Her hand crept lower to the sweet lust that was growing between her legs. The dream had been so terrible; it felt like she had seen the face of annihilation, and beyond that, a void so dark it had a color. Celestine’s body cried out in desire against such a blankness.
Aidric watched her, and she wanted him to. This Captain of the Guard, always there. Always watching her. Protecting her.
When she spread her legs, his helm moved down, taking her in. She peeled her trousers off proudly and played with herself in the firelight while he stared. She saw the morphed image of herself, stretching and contracting, in the polish of his mask.
When she reached out to pull him down towards her, he didn’t obey. He stared at her, stopping himself. Perhaps from fear of what the Lords of Season would do, perhaps he didn’t have that within himself. But he watched her, and she came for him, a finger in her own mouth, thighs clenched under the need of her quim. Her own image an eternity staring back at her, his cloth-covered eyes watching her.
Wanting her.
Celestine rolled over, staring at the firelight. Aidric watched her until she shut her eyes and slept again, staying close to keep away any bad dreams.