Lord William Maubrey (Deceased)

Lord William Maubrey (Deceased) Feb 9, 2010 20:29:51 GMT -5

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Post by Semper Skye on Feb 9, 2010 20:29:51 GMT -5

Death of an Era

He looked to the fire, then down at the tube… his warm hand leaving her face, he stood befire the hearth… “Nae more…” he shook his head… “Nae more doth the past rule our future…” then he seemed to be speaking to someone long dead… “Mother, know that I love yu… always have, always will… yu were taken from me far too soon… Know I am happy… loved… and have a legacy to raise… Murieall… I love yu too… for what I have come to know, yu were my Mother’s heart… a calming wind in a storm… Know Beathag is happy… loved… and safe… and aye, a Mother in her own rite… Thank you both for your guidance… and love beyond death…” his hand raised to throw the tube into the fire…

"Nae more." Adam spoke and it caused her to lift her head. He continued on to say that he sought to be rid of the grip that held them for so long, so many years earlier wasted on trying to aspire to be what was fashioned in the generations that bore them. Tears streaked her face. She cried from fear, she cried to be free of it. She cried because as he gave release to himself, he issued her a bid to freedom as well. He spoke of those who held him sway; for her part she became almost lost to the reality of it all. She sought, more than anything, to love what was here, now.

Three years… three years had William lived the life of what he had considered a pauper… a warrior, a noble, without a realm… His own son had titled him a wanted criminal. His youngest son proclaimed his useless and a hinderance. Now, William and Gerard had made their way into Turas Lan unseen, for the city had grown into a world of its own… William’s main concern was Anwen… Gerard’s main concern was his Lord and Master… and when William found that Anwen had changed and married another, he tried to kill the young man… and in an attempt, he had harmed Eryn…

Now the men made their way thru the labrynith of the castleworks… thru the underground… and in their trek, William had seen the sarcophici that once held the women… “So that’s where they were hidden all these years…” William proclaimed in an odd, evil –laden voice… Gerard said nothing but stayed close to his Lord. Every word that he said was in an attempt to forego their venture into the castle.

Through the corridors of cobwebs that hid a history, William pushed aside, just as history was pushed aside by his very actions. Up the stairs he crept, the sword now withdrawn, the anger filled his heart… Pushing a loose stone, the wall loosened… and a doorway once hidden now opened to the room… Across the room, Beathag sat upon a stool… Adam before the hearth…

William and Gerard burst in, swords raised… the intent was to kill whatever lie between his son and his intent…

Adam turned around and saw the men emerge from nowhere… his first glance was to Bess… then at the charging men. Above the mantle held a sword from battles long since ended but not forgotten… The Mo’r Triath spinning just in time to deflect his Father’s death strike… More agile, but not as strong… experience equaled, the men fought before a hearth that had seen both of them facing its held flames…

To the other side of the room, Gerard hesitated his task… and that action in its self allowed Beathag to find her own weapon…

The private place was suddenly invaded by intruders. Where they came from was like tracking the place of ghosts, but one thing was for certain. No one else knew, or would even dare. It would have taken grand observation to know that a great many other passages had been sealed after the events that once saw the Ebony Prince captured and the royal family too many times harmed. The King's Way passages were sealed after the areas ruined by the Lord Guardian and Lucius Macleod's great adventure that unearthed the hidden women in the first place. Her brow furrowed in disbelief, but she did not ask questions. Already she was moving for the weapon effiency. Eamonn had gifted Beathag with a sword from Eohmark, made expressly for her use. It was meant for her body, her hands. Its weight was for a woman of substance, height. He was among those viewed a shieldmaiden's skill ought not fall to ill use, but remain honed should it ever be needed again.

Gerard was more experienced and stronger than the once White Hound, but found her agility better equipping her for what she needed to do.

He came at her with hesitance, and it allowed her the first strike at him. He countered quickly, realizing that his strength would give him advantage where age might have failed him. No longer in the throngs of battle, Beathag was not the woman of constant power years of battle had made her. Strong sinew had indeed lengthened to be more grace of body than bulk of form. While she was still one for both the sword and archery, it was in recreation's way that her skills stayed honed. None sought to rouse old angers, aggravate hurts. None sought to draw out the hound in a woman who was a mother who's youngest was still at the teet. Yet he did. Gerard was met with eyes so sharp a gaze could have cut him. "How dare ye, disturb m'chamber," she growled. Perfect peace disrupted by the devil, the murders who'd taken from them so much? Oh aye, it would end here. If she could not take Maubrey's head than the body of his man would do well. She choked on rich hostility, letting it harden her when a cut to the shoulder would have crippled a normal woman. They pair danced on their end of the room, blade to blade, word to word. "Join your kin in death. Join yer master in hell."

With a graceful spin… and the ferocity of a lioness protecting her den, she fought with a prowess that could still live any spellbound. The hound, the banshee had gone to sleep. But the shieldmaiden? Oh, how well she lived! She stuck out her foot, using it to kick Gerard in the stomach when he placed her against a wall. The weight of his blade coming down was reversed by the well placed foot. For having the lighter metal, it made her form more effective, concise. Blood would soon be spilled upon a new carpet at the foot of her ber, her sword deep into the old man chest. The sword had never killed before, it was only used in practice. It was a weapon of peace, until the moment it proved her brother's keen knowledge quite useful. Gerard looked down at himself in shock, watching as she drove the blade in to the hilt before drawing it out. Even in his last breath, she sought to steal from him what he had from others. The heel of her boot was brought down across the bridge of his nose, sending the fragments into the brain.

Adam looked at Bess, and saw her situation… which was well handled he was sure… but that moment of inattentiveness would allow his Father’s sword to cut across his chest… not deep but enough to leave yet another scar…one across the chest wound of old…

She turned in time to see the swipe that cut him. Her world hung so precarious already with secrets. If the Gods were kind at all, they would not take Adam from her. "Adam!"

A loud scream from his beloved, and a stumble backwards was soon countered by steel upon steel as the two men fought… The door burst open as guards entered, alerted by the Mo’r Okesula’s scream… A pause in the parrying of swords only gave Adam time to stop his guards… “Care for the Mo’r Okesula… nay stop this…” His sea greens eyes looked at ones identical as he spoke… His hand held out as a stop sign for the guards and his wife…

"No!" She cried out. The men recalled this state, at least the more senior among them. It would be them that would draw the Mo'r Oukselo back, knowing full well in a passion or anger induced rage what she could do. She mellowed, better than her prior self. Still, tensed muscle was under their fingers. The want to spring out, to do anything but remain motionless.

“I know I will not leave this room alive my son… but at least know I will send yu to yer mother… My life is complete… full circle it has come… but I will know that Scotland and her Isles will be free of the MacRauri’s and the Aberdeens…” His words would offer no hope and less as cold eyes of the sea stared at a son long ago abandoned…

Adam listened and smirked at his Father’s words… “Nay Father, tis yu I shall send to hell…” then Adam attacked his Father with a ferocity not seen since the freedom fight of Skye… In the words marred by clashes of steel, the two continued to fight, whist others watched in horror at the possibility of a King’s death.

Beathag could do nothing but remain in their hold, at their attentions. She could only remain tensed as she had not in years as her husband went against his greatest adversary: his own flesh and blood.

Lamps broken, chairs over turned, the bedposts now marred by the blade strikes, Father and Son fought to end the other’s life… “Yer Mother was weak… and she produced a weak offspring… and her family did not deserve these lands… Nor do yu or that sleeper of a harper…” He saw a weak spot in his son’s offense, and one he considered plausible in his defense and he struck at the opportunity…

Adam could defend against the blade strikes, he could withstand, the words of and against his Mother… but now his Father made a vital mistake… the man spoke of his wife and that formed a resolve stronger than any wall of Turas Lan… and when William attempted, Adam countered… and something as simple as a counterstrike, followed by a spin and a dagger withdrawn was his undoing…

William stood swaying, a dagger handle sticking out of his throat… the long blade penetrating down into the chest cavity… and Adam stepped back as William looked at him, the identical seagreen eyes, blurring, life seeping quickly from him… words were gurgled as blood filled his throat and chest… falling forward to his knees… he looked up at Adam…

Adam shook his head… “No forgiveness… No Mercy... Mother and Murieall bid yu farewell…” with that Adam raised his sword and swung down hard… his fathers head rolling from its shoulders… almost to the feet of the Mo’r Okesula… the body falling forward to its end.

Adam looked at the sword he held in his hand… the ornamental sword of the MacRauri, Lord of the Isles, now sough justice in its own mysterious way… He walked to his beloved Bess, who looked at the wounds on his chest, arm, and thigh… “I am alright my luv… and it is done… the Maubrey are done…”

It was by sheer happenstance he came upon the castle to visit his trusted leiges, his oldest friends. It was by happenstance that the reason for his elevation took hold as he heard the screams coming from the royal rooms. "Out of the way!" He bellowed, following in Brom's footsteps as they charged into the room. How was this possible! He himself had done away with so many areas of the secrets of his regents, whom he well considered to be his King. For his Queen, he held her back as he all but watched her move mountains. "Do as he says," he emphasized the instruction, moving the guard aside. The veteran speculated, but unlike speculation he knew the full extent of the Mo'r Oukselo's angered force first hand. He caught hold of her in the last instant before the end. Brom came to the other side, moving her back with them to turn her head as not to bare witness.

"Let me gae, let me gae!" In the end she could no longer contain herself. When the head of Maubrey was severed from the body her arm flew out of the grasp of the man at her left only to be taken in by Brom, her eyes hidden by Kendrew's shoulder. He gasped in shock, while the others shared Kendrew's expression of merely knowing.

As they were escorted from the room, Adam stopped and looked to Brom… “See the Mo’r Okesula is cared for…” then to the faithful Kendrew… “Kendrew, take the heads… post them in the market, high on pikes, so William can see what he has lost… burn the bodies with the trash…”

"A fitting thing, My Lord." Kendrew said, leaving Beathag to Brom to see that what sullied the chambers could begin to be removed. Upon his first chance, he would speak with all of the men of Turas Lan. As he once had done, he would send word to Eamonn to tell him of these tidings even before the pair in the room could think to do so. It was a red-letter day. It was a banner day, despite what injury had come. As men followed him he would give one specific request: "Have a part ready for my return, ten strong men. A source the Engineer trusts as well. We are going below to finish what we began. Save for those that would allow the court escape, we are going to block the passages to this castle. Look you for any who may be apart of this plot. We take no chances."

Adam grabbed two guards and gave them orders… “Prepare the Lady Davina and Murieall for funeral pyres… destroy the grotto… replace it with honors of men who died saving Skye from tyranny… Go to the sarcophici below… and destroy any legacy of its existence… Take as many men as necessary…..” The men responded sharply and moved away quickly… “Aye MiLord… by yer leave…”

"P... please." After several moments of silence her words cut through the guards as they had Adam. "Touch them, nay yet. It must be done with care... utmost care. If we are tae send them to final rest... let it not be after this. Let us... gae... to them, with them tae witness...please."

Beathag had hesitated being carted off, she remained to hear his commands… Seeing she had not left, he neared her, his blood stained hand caressing her face… “It is done…” and the adrenaline of what had just occurred left him weak… and tears formed in his eyes… “No future shall guided by a dead and harmfull past… we make our own now…” he was not only referring to what had occurred… but to the information kept in the leather tube that now lie in cinders and ashes.

She remained now, free of any hands to hold her. The sword had since fallen to the floor beside its kill, her hands wanting to be full of only Adam. Tears spilled from her face as she nodded, her core shaken by what had occurred.

Out of breath... bleeding from wounds on his arm, chest and thigh, his bloodstained hands held the sword in one hand, her in the other... There was a haze in his eyes... as if something had been ripped from his chest and mind... with sea-green eyes tht now were tear-filled, he looked at his beloved wife... and sighed...

From violation to victory. From invasion, to an end. The true end.

Or so it seemed.

Post by Semper Skye on Feb 9, 2010 20:29:09 GMT -5

Post by Semper Skye on Feb 9, 2010 20:29:51 GMT -5