Chapter 2: The Pebble With Moss

-11-

People of all ages covered the streets; children sat on shoulders, men and women tiptoed to see better. Their chatter flooded the city.

The middle of the street was vacated, embanked on either side by people. Their anticipation, palpable.

"Behold! The heroes return!" The herald shouted.

The people all cried at once, the sound akin to thunder.

Three men on horses crossed the street, each donned with luxurious capes and holding a flagstaff. Following them were men and women in uniform, riding horses, surrounded by armoured knights.

Then the soldiers entered. The fervour reached a new high as they did.

Some marched on. Others rushed to their friends and families.

The people cheered. They smiled, laughed, hugged and kissed, hoisted one another in the air. All had wide grins on their faces. Many cried.

Some wept.

-

People lined the castle hall, leaving the black-gold carpet running in the middle vacant. At the end of the hall, sat the king on his throne; a crown over his white hair, a sceptre in his hand.

Miriel watched the soldiers march into the hall. Led by three men in the front with capes flowing behind them, the most decorated of the company.

Behind them to one side were armoured knights, the others uniformed soldiers.

"Is he among the soldiers? Perchance, one of the knights? Oh, might he be one of..."

"He is certainly not the commanders." Miriel cut Elle off as she stood to her side, gawking at the procession. They stood at the front, closer to the throne than the door.

She scanned the group but was uncertain if Mark was there.

Her eyes focused on one grey haired soldier. Only, the Mark she remembered was black haired.

The king's herald began the ceremony. He recited names, extolled merits and embellished rewards, starting with the commanders.

As the herald cried and people murmured, Miriel stared at the soldier.

His dull grey hair was trimmed short and uneven, a scar spread from his jaw to the middle of his left cheek. His dark-brown eyes stared forward as he stood with his arms to his side.

Their eyes met. His eyes darted away.

'It's him.' She gripped her hands, held to her front. His face was rougher than she remembered. His dark hair was now grey. Taller. Not as scrawny. But she was certain it was Mark.

"Miriel, Miriel, any luck? The last knight was called." Elle said.

"The soldier with a scar on his cheek, middle of the second row." She replied.

Elle turned her head to the soldiers and narrowed her eyes.

"Is it the plump one? Or the one with long hair? Hmm? Is that not a girl?"

"No, your highness. The one with the grey hair. The second row."

"Ah, that must be Mark." She had held her chin with her hand and bobbed her head.

"Not too shabby, but you could do much better if you so wished."

"Looks deceive, your highness." Miriel replied.

"That is true." Elle nodded. Miriel stared at her for a moment.

"Mark, of the Barony of Lerkester." The herald cried.

He crossed the carpet, stood before the stairs and knelt with one knee.

"Merited for exemplary bravery and fortitude that led him to save the lives of many of his comrades. Mark of Lerkester, you have been awarded citizenship and residency in the Capitol, along with thirty bags of gold. For your virtues and your accomplishments, the king has permitted your betrothal with Lady Lerkester. May the sun ever illuminate your path."

The murmurs heightened with the herald's words.

"Fortune be with the king." Mark said. He stood, bent his right arm at the elbow and crossed it to his shoulder, palm straight and against his chest.

A servant went to him and bestowed him a scroll. He accepted it and bowed to the king.

He turned and marched back, deadpan face unchanged.

The rest of the ceremony passed like a blur as memories flitted through Miriel's head.

"We must part now, I presume. A pity, I prefer you to return tomorrow, or better, never. Alas, the two birds must unite." Elle said.

"Your highness…" Miriel turned to her.

Elle had a hand covering her mouth as she sobbed. The other wiping crocodile tears with a cloth.

"Oh, to be a forlorn star."

Miriel's cheek twitched.

"I will return eventually, your highness. You may visit if you are so inclined." Miriel said.

"Why, I shall rush there at first light."

"That is, if you have nothing else to tend to, your highness."

"How boorish." Elle replied. 

"Fair enough, I shall visit the earliest possible." She continued.

"I thank you, your highness." Miriel bowed her head.

"I have your eternal gratitude, have I not? You need not be redundant." Elle giggled.

The herald announced the end of the ceremony.

The company marched out the hall and the people followed.

Miriel paced to leave the hall.

"Miriel."

She turned to Elle, who was attired in a black dress decorated with white. A wide grin on her face.

"Be happy."

Miriel bowed.

She left the hall and made for the castle gates.

-

He stood in front of Miriel in a soldier's attire, one hand holding a scroll. The scar on his left cheek was stark on his skin, a shade or two darker than Miriel.

"Mark." Miriel said.

"Miriel." He replied.

They stared at each other, standing a few steps apart. The sun crossed the sky, and neared the mountains. Its yellow glow yielded a twinge of orange.

"It seems you only grew a bit." Miriel said.

"You didn't at all. You're as short as before." Mark replied.

Miriel's mouth twitched.

"Five years and not one letter. Did you forget how to write?"

"You didn't send one either. I would have if you did."

"Fair enough." She replied. "But do you still remember how to read and write?"

"I do."

"Then why did you not send a letter?"

"I did write one, but I didn't know who to send it so I kept it with me and then lost it."

Miriel's mouth stayed ajar for a moment..

"At least you remember how to write." She sighed.

They were in front of the castle's inner gate, guarded by two soldiers a distance away. The two were alone, except for Crausel who was by the carriage.

"I heard Mister Albert passed on." Mark said.

Miriel nodded.

"How are you faring?" He said.

"Better now at least." She replied

"Your folks came to the funeral didn't they?"

"They did." Miriel nodded. "I cut them off before they caused trouble."

"And that's why we're betrothed and you're hanging with the princess?"

"Could have been worse. I might have resorted to force otherwise." She replied.

"You could've sent a letter at least. I almost screamed in front of the king."

"You're still bringing up letters?" She glared at him.

"Fine, I won't. So? How'd it happen?"

"Did no one tell you? No rumours here and news there you could connect the dots with? Not even during your march back?"

"Rumours are unreliable. Unless it's official, soldiers are to pay them no heed and focus on their task."

"At times I wonder how you can be this dumb. " She held a palm to her forehead.

"Still, why do you have to hang out with the lunatic?" Mark said.

"Lunatic? Who?" Miriel tilted her head.

"The princess. No one else who's that crazy."

"Watch your words." Miriel narrowed her eyes.

"No one but us can hear it anyway." Mark shrugged.

"I can hear it. Do not speak ill of the princess."

"You're defending her?" Mark's eyes widened, "Miriel, you left the Capitol to avoid her."

"That was a mistake. I almost caused something worse to transpire." She shivered.

"Well, she came to the frontlines and we had to do some crazy stuff because of her. Crazier than the commander even." He shivered.

"No matter your impression of her, we are sticking with her now." Miriel said.

"I won't be dealing with her." He replied.

"You will. Because you are stuck with me."

"What was young me thinking?" He clutched his head.

"Nothing. You, do not, think, Mark. Never have." She replied.

He straightened and they stared at each other for a moment.

"If you wish to, it is not too late to turn away." Miriel said.

"No." Mark shook his head. "I made my choice and I will stick to it."

Miriel nodded.

"I will return to Lerkester first. You head to the city, get your hair properly cut and take a bath. You reek."

Mark pulled his collar close and smelled. He shrugged.

"I don't have the money to. Just this scroll." He said, waving the scroll.

"Did they not pay you? Have you spent it all already?" She asked.

"They did. I spent what they gave me but the captain said he put most of it in some bank. I tried to get the rest but couldn't find this bank place." He replied

"Oh, sun's blessings." Miriel exhaled, "Someone with a working brain."

"Head to the city and ask people where the bank is." She continued, "There, enter and tell them you need a few silver coins, ten or twenty will do. Not a coin more, clear? They will give you the money. Stay at an inn tonight and buy some clothes. You can get on a carriage tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'll see you at the manor." He paused. "It's still at the same place, right?"

"No, I demolished the place and turned it into a graveyard." Miriel replied.

Mark's eyes widened, his mouth open.

"At the same place, you dunce. Though, the town will surprise you." She saidl.

He glared at her as she giggled.

Miriel bowed.

Mark bent his arm at the elbow, and crossed it to his shoulder.

She turned and made for the carriage. Then drove off.

Mark watched the carriage until it was a faint dot, then headed to the city.