Ragged Royalty

The storm folded in on the night, like a wave folding into the sea. Rain crashed down in sheets, pounding submission into the earth below. Thunder cracked, resounding through the night, as bright flashes of light streaked across the sky. The wind tore at the cloak of a lone traveler, brave enough to risk life and limb by making a dangerous journey on such a treacherous night. The mud from the path weighting him down with every step he took. The basket he carried getting heavier and heavier with each passing moment. He was ready to give up hours ago, but giving up meant losing his head, and he had become rather attached to that. Just a little bit further and he could put this infernal mess and blasted storm behind him.                                 

Up the path a little way, he began to see the faint glow of a lantern. As he got closer he could make out the slight form of a small ragged woman. She was covered from head to toe in a worn cloak. The hood pushed just off her forehead. Her eyes, black as the night, and piercing into his soul. When she spoke it was a musical sound.                                                  

"Are you the one sent by him with eyes blue as sapphire?"
                             
"I am not sure..." he started to reply.                    
                                                 
"The one who sent you, has a scar above his left eye?"                    
                   
"Yes ma'am. Who are you?"                                                                                

"I am the one you was sent to meet. Is that for me?" She looked down at the basket and motioned for him to hand it over.                              

"I am not sure if this is for you. Are you Ansley?" He studied the woman closely, noting that even in the dark and worn cloak she was very attractive.                                                                                                                        

"I am Ansley of Beechwood House. I am the one you was sent to meet, and that you have in your hand is for me." She took a step forward reaching out to take the basket from his grasp, but he side stepped her and laughed.                                                                                                              

"And what is so very important about this basket anyway?" he asked eying her. "No one would tell me and I admit I was to scared to look before. Now, I am curious. How important is it to you? What would you be willing to part with?"                                                                                                    

"Oh sir I would do anything for that basket, including take your life. Do not think to bully me sir, I may be a woman, but I wont hesitate to cut your heart out." She smiled as she saw a shiver run through him and his complexion go white. "Now set that basket down and be on your merry way."                                                                                                                                  

He looked at the woman, her knife and then came to some internal decision that his first plan of action was folly. He set the basket down with a thud, bowed, turned and fled as fast as he could. This whole business had lead him into nothing but trouble. Even the tightening in his groin from the hateful wench, almost cost him his life.  He didn't even look back to see if she was still standing there. He was ready to get some place dry and warm and as far away from Ansley of Beechwood house as possible. Little did he know he wouldn't make it off the small muddy path. Ansley watched in horror as rocks and mud started to slide off the hill he was passing, covering his body completely. Another soul lost to a landslide.          

Not wanting to linger, Ansley grabbed the basket up and made her way in the opposite direction of the now dead traveler. As she made her way up the slight slope, she started to sing. It was a song about a long line of kings and the demise of a nation. A haunting song, full of death, blood and mayhem, and the birth of a child that would end the suffering of the kingdom. She was on the second chorus, and singing it with gusto, when Beechwood House came into sight. As soon as she saw it, she broke into a wild run, trying to close the gap between her and the safety of the big manor house. As she rushed onto the porch the door opened and a portly gentleman looked into her face questioningly.

"Well?"

"Yes" she said as her face lit up with a smile.

The gentleman's body relaxed and his eye's began to water. He looked at Ansley searchingly, waiting but not wanting to ask. He didn't notice the basket she had slung over her arm, and he was starting to wonder if she was ever going to show him what she went out to get. About the time he looked down and saw what she carried, an angry cry erupted from within, startling both him and Ansley into fits of laughter. Ansley sat the basket down and lifted the cloth covering the opening. Tucked inside, wrapped in fine silk lined fur, was a small infant. Its eyes open and searching for something as it set up another angry cry. Ansley reached inside and pulled the small babe from the basket and held it into the light spilling out the open door. As she looked at the child, tiny grey eyes studied her back and then the child let out another wail.

"I am guessing that she is hungry?" the gentleman asked.

"I am guessing that you are right. Lets get her inside and let Bonnie feed her. I am sure it was just as tiresome a trip for her as it was for the poor
fellow that brought her, bless his soul" and she made the sign of the cross.

"What? He is dead?" the man looked at Ansley. All color draining from his round face.

"Yes, Creaking Hill claimed him for her own, though I thought of taking it myself."

"Ansley! What happened? Did he hurt you? Well of course not, how silly of me to ask that. I forget your father trained you like a man."

"Oh Thomas, how silly indeed!"