Adventures of Lucilla

Count Leontes looked troubled as he sat at the foot of the long
dining table, head resting in his hand, face a mask of deep, worried
thought. Without looking up at her he addressed his chief
advisor.
"You really believe she's the one? This, this peasant girl?"
"I've little doubt m'lord" the young soothsayer replied. "She has
already fulfilled the first two prophecies"
"Then we better pray Curan and his Crimson guard get to her before she
realises it."
Viola, a radiant woman much younger and more subtly dressed in her long
white gown than the rich Count, rested a hand on his shoulder.
"You worry too much sire. She's just a child."
Angry, he knocked her hand away, getting to his feet and pacing up and
down the room. "You know the legends! This girl could be our end if she
slips from our grasp. Curan better not fail me"
"By sundown tomorrow she'll be dead by his sword. Now please, stop
worrying and get some rest" she replied, her voice both concerned and
frustrated.

The brisk winter wind swept through the trees, its howl mixing with the
clinking of icicles that had formed over the smallest branches of them.
Everything seemed frozen, and in some places as she walked, the soil
gave way with a crackling; under the upper layer of the ground was
several inches of thin ice structures not strong enough to support a
person stepping on them. Lucilla shivered and drew her threadbare shawl
closer to her shoulders. Normally she loved winter, but today she
couldn't shake a nagging fear something horrible was waiting to
happen.
She bent down and brushed some snow from where it threatened to fall
into her boots. Boots. What an odd name for the wool and leather
wrappings she wore on her feet. She rose and set off again, trudging
along the familiar path, surrounded by trees on both sides of her.
Lucilla also loved the walk home from the pastures where she often
spent her days. A few minutes later she stood on the summit of a small
hill, looking down over the pathetic village she called home. This
place was the place she liked best. People seldom used the trail she
stood on, preferring the security of the road.
Yet, something seemed oddly different about the village tonight.
Everything was curiously quiet. Still, it was where she lived, and from
her house there was a steady stream of smoke coming up out of the crude
chimney. She set off again with renewed purpose, below awaited
vegetable soup and bread; albeit the soup was more broth than soup, and
the bread wasn't the best.
When she got into the village, she saw what was different. There were
some half a dozen horses, all with expensive saddling that proved their
owners were far more wealthy than the residents. Not only that, but the
bridles and saddles bore the distinct markings of the Crimson guard in
many places. Who knew? And Lucilla, though curious, was not one to ask
questions that could cause trouble, so she continued along her route to
home.
Another gust of cold wind blew over her as she swung open the wooden
door to her home and rushed inside. As she turned to shut the door,
heated air rushed over her, causing her to shiver for a moment. Then
she took off her shawl and dropped it onto a chair. Her younger sister
glanced up from where she sat by the fire. Her sister had never gotten
entirely better after the sickness that had claimed many other lives,
and thus stayed inside most of the time, but she was pretty enough to
marry off well, or so Lucilla's father claimed. "Welcome home" She
announced.
Lucilla smiled at her. "Mm?smells wonderful in here. Where is
everyone?"
"Around. Father hasn't come home yet. Mother?." Mira shrugged. Mother
hadn't recovered either. Though the sickness had occurred two years
earlier, when the sister's sole brother had been taken by it Mother had
gone a little crazy. Not even Father tried to control her. For the most
part, she was simply ignored, unless she was bedridden in her home.
"Did you see the Crimson guards?" Mira asked.
Her sister shook her head and served herself some dinner. "I saw their
horses though." Mira came over to sit at the table with Lucilla, still
carrying a stitchery she was working on. "Luc? it was incredible. They
were going door to door. Looking for a troublemaker, someone who'd
committed treason even, they said. They wouldn't even tell me whom it
was they wanted. You would have loved it."
Lucilla very much enjoyed adventure, and felt a bit jealous of her
sister's good fortune. "And they're still here? Surely they must have
found who ever they were searching for by now?"
"I don't know." Mira replied honestly. The two girls talked for a time
about how their days had gone, and about Mira's upcoming wedding to a
wealthier young man in another town, though still under Count Leontes'
rule. An hour passed, and they were not particularly surprised when
they heard a someone coming to the door, but neither could hide
astonishment that instead of their father hurrying in, his beard
covered with sawdust and snow, a loud knocking began. Lucilla glanced
at her sister. "Who could it be at this time of evening?" She
asked.
Mira looked pale. "Perhaps the Crimson guards are staying the night."
Lucilla shrugged and rose. "Only one way to find out. I'll get the
door."

"I can't believe he's got us on this rat race" Curan complained, his
breath turning to a white mist in the cold winter air. "This is an
embarrassment".
His lieutenant rubbed his hands together briskly to keep warm and then
rapped on the door again. "The Count seemed to think this girl is
impor?"
"Quiet!" Curan cut him off as a young girl answered the door. She took
a step back in surprise when she saw the two men in their blood red
armour, long ornate swords at their sides. After a brief pause she
seemed to gather her composure.
"Hello sirs, can I help you?" Lucilla asked, peering up at Curan. The
tall, dark haired captain knelt down to her level and smiled, the scars
on his face making him look more sinister than friendly. "Hello little
girl" he replied, and Lucilla clearly objected to being called 'little'
although she dare not say anything. Curan lifted a black-gloved hand
toward her face, the memory of Leontes' command ringing in his ear;
'look for the peasant girl with two bite marks on her neck' as he
reached to brush her hair aside. Lucilla jumped as she felt her
father's hand rest on her shoulder. "And what can we do for you fine
gentleman?" her father began, squeezing her shoulder hard and shoving
her away from the doorway out of view of the guards.