Arshalous shivered in the rain and wiped her dripping hair from her face. At her feet was the body of the queen -- her queen. Stone was scattered about her limp form as if the balcony had crumbled beneath her, letting her fall to the ground below. Thunder clapped and lightening flickered in the darkened sky. Arshalous' heart chilled as she saw the red marks that stained the queen's fine throat. No...she had not met her death that way...she had fallen. Doubt gnawed at her as she stared at the marks...but then she turned away. She must not think of that and she must not find out if her suspicions were true. Such knowledge would be deadly she was sure...
She turned away and rushed to her home. She was weary, she was frightened by the events of the day. She refused to think of her aunt, the mother of Korak...she cringed at the thought of grief that would surely be on Hababa's face when she discovered the plottings that had been whispered in the dark.
But right now she did not want to think about the plots, the deception, the strangeness of the Queen's death. The haunted, cold lump in her stomach was going to be ignored, washed away by a cup of soothing tea. Semra made such excellent tea...
"Semra!" she called, wringing her sodden garments at the door step. Her call echoed in the vast halls of her villa and there was no patter of footsteps or the answering call of her servant.
Arshalous licked her lips. Semra had never ignored her before she had always been a faithful servant. "Semra!" Maybe she had fallen alseep or was buried in a story that Arshalous had given her leave to read...Arshalous hurried to Semra's small bedroom but found it empty. "Semra!" she shouted, trying to stifle the vague feeling of concern.
Arshalous stared at the pouring rain, trying not to think of the rumours that were whispered of monsters of stories now arisen praying upon children and women. Surely one would not dare enter the house of noble. But...and she could not shake this gnawing thought...but what if one of them had been responsible for the queen's death?
With a surge of fear, Arshalous darted outside, running, trying to find Semra. She calmed her pace, laughing at herself. She was being a fool, letting the wild imaginings of children take hold of her.
She heard a moan, and she turned. Semra was there, lying in a puddle. Mud streaked her pallid cheeks, a tear trembled on her eyelash. She was as cold, oh so very cold.
"Semra!" Arshalous whispered, taking the girl in her arms and kissing her forehead. "What happened to you?"
Arshalous carried Semra into the villa, washed her face, made her warm. Soon Semra's eyes flickered open and she whimpered softly. "It was horrible my lady....there was a shadow darker than the blackest night and he came near to me, and I felt a chill wind that seeped into my body, driving all warmth from it. I was filled with fear, and...and the next I knew you were there and I was here. But it was so terrible my lady...it was as if I could feel an echo of the thing's being, and it was...devoid of all good thing..."
Arshalous stared at the wall and paced before the fire. "Oh Rhais," she whispered, "what has become of us?"
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