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Le Morte D'Ardour: Chapter Three

Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two CHAPTER THREE The thorns were out in full force. There were days when the pain fell back and was manageable. Never truly gone, the hints of it stirring about her, but manageable.   And there were days when it was like her insides were cut open and all her strength was left to bleed out. For days like those she had the cane. For nights there was the tincture. One sip and her thoughts would soften and the world blur and the pain would just go away. That bottle stood in its place on the nightstand. She couldn’t help but eye it from her seat by the fireplace. As much as it helped she couldn’t help but hate that bottle just a bit. She was herself, pain and all, and the tincture turned her into nothing but fraying cotton. She tore her eyes away from it and looked at the book in her lap. It was some fictionalized history of a hundred years’ dead king and all his conquests. She was nearing the climax of the account, where the king rallied his troo

Le Morte D'Ardour: Chapter Two

  Prologue   Chapter One CHAPTER TWO With the accolades and respect afforded to someone who filled the role of head butler of a great estate, Anton should have considered himself better off than others. He was charged with the trust of the nobles to oversee the servants in the management of the many petty affairs of the castle. Most days, the honor associated with his position balanced out nicely when compared with how much stress and toil the job demanded. Today was not most days. Today was the ball. With hundreds of aristocrats with tempers to match their lofty titles to keep, Anton had his hands full. The grand ballroom had been set up, the tables decorated with fine silks and the floors with expensive carpet. The room was lit by candles set into elaborate holders of crystal and gold, and the dancefloor filled with the music of the finest musicians who had played to emperors and cheering pub crowds alike. Setting all that up in a few too short weeks had been a great undertakin