At Dawn's Light

Chapter 2: The Passing of All Things

Dawn was breaking, the rain faded drop by drop.

“Open the gates! It's Rowan!"

Dunny struck the gate with an impatient hoof.

To Rowan, the gates took an eternity to creak open. Trotting inside, Jax, the groom took hold of the old warhorse.

“I have him now, Rowan. Go."

She had never liked leaving her horse hot and sweaty, especially in the hands of someone else, so she paused for only a moment. Her half-elven handmaiden, Lea, ran quietly from the Keep.

“Come, my lady," a lock of muddy, brown hair fell from the servant's bun. “Do you have the herbs?"

The pained look on Rowan's face was all Lea needed to see. She swallowed hard.

“There are so many sick, the healer has nothing left," Rowan reasoned. “Shena said to find some spring blossoms of the Worray Tree, and have father suck on the blossoms."

Lea nodded, “That's an old remedy, but worth a try."

Her enthusiasm faded as Rowan retrieved the blossoms from her bag.

“They were the yellowest I could find," Rowan mumbled apologetically.

The handmaiden took the blossoms and rushed inside, followed immediately by her lady.

They crossed the main hall and hurried up the winding staircase to the heavy, large black door beside the turret.

Rowan opened the door quietly. The man on the bed weakly blinked, but the joyful smile warmed Rowan's heart.

“Ah, Rowan," he rasped. “My beautiful girl."

Lea started to bend and soften the blossoms, as Rowan took a seat beside her father. She had his eyes, but her mother's hair. As she held some water to his lips, she remembered Reanin, once saying the cross of her parents had produced a summer storm. Although a storm was often needed, it could inflict a lot of damage as well. She shook her head, she wouldn't be doing any damage here.

Lea placed a blossom in Reanin's mouth, careful not to make him gag, but making sure enough of the flower was being used.

Rowan looked at her handmaiden.

“Now we wait," Lea whispered.

Hours passed. The two women took turns checking and switching the blossoms.

About midday, there was a quiet, but demanding knock at the door. Getting up, Rowan opened the door to find the captain of the guards, Phalen.

Helmet in hand, he dipped his head and asked softly, “How is he?"

“The Fever has faded, but won't let go. He's resting as comfortably as possible."

Phalen took a breath, “Do you want me to send a message to his brother?"

“The King," Rowan blinked, surprised. “What good would that do? He has always been too busy to come here."

She turned to catch Lea looking Phalen in the eye, nodding.

“You think I should send a message?"

“It is the right thing to do, my lady," Lea spoke quietly, making sure she did not wake Rowan's father.

Reluctantly, Rowan agreed, feeling she had every right not to inform her uncle of her father's illness.

She had only seen her uncle a handful of times in her life, and he never had spoken directly to her. Her father was the third son of a wealthy knight, who married a commoner for love. Her uncle had married a princess, and in time, became King. Rowan, herself, was the third child, though she was the only one to have survived the fever that now raged the land. Not once had her uncle inquired on their welfare.

Shrugging, Rowan said almost sarcastically, “Do it then. See if he has any herbs."

Phalen left, and for the next several hours there was no change in Reanin's health.

Rowan had left the room in the early evening to make sure the Keep's routine was still running smoothly. She stopped at the stables to feed Dunny an apple and check on his condition.

“He was a bit hungry, but we took care of that," Jax patted Dunny's round belly. The big, grey gelding lifted his head briefly from the hay and exhaled in Rowan's face.

“He does that a lot," She laughed.

There came a panicked call from outside.

“Rowan? Where is she? Rowan?"

She met Lea at the door. Lea's face was drained of colour, and her breathing was ragged. Before Rowan could even ask, she knew what Lea was going to say.

“Hurry," was all the half-elf said.

The run to her father's room was a blur, and Rowan barely felt the wood beneath her hand as she pushed open the door.

“My summer storm," Her father whispered, and held out his hand. Taking it, Rowan knelt close to his side. She noticed his breathing was rapid and shallow, shuddering every so often as if it hurt.

“I'm here, Da," kissing his hand she held it to her face.

Reanin smiled, taking in his daughter in all her youth and beauty.

“I want you to remember what I've taught you."

“Of course, Da. I always listened."

Reanin laughed, causing him to cough feebly.

“Your heart will carry you through," he continued. “I will always be with you."

Rowan leaned closer, as if trying to lend him her strength, “Oh Da, I love you too."

She felt him squeeze her hand softly.

“You were the greatest gift I ever received...born for greater things."

Quietly, Reanin, humble lord of the small keep, closed his eyes and slowly stopped breathing.

The room went still. Rowan squeezed the hand she held and leaned closer. She looked at her father's face, to his hand, and back again.

Rowan choked on a sob and placed her head on her father's chest. Memories flooded from her heart to her mind, and she saw him tossing her into the air, placing her on Dunny's back, running to meet him as he returned to the keep, her father kissing her mother's still face before her burial.

'And now, I must do the same for you,' Rowan thought gravely.

She smoothed the blankets and straightened his hair before turning to leave the room. Lea stood respectfully at a distance, but at Rowan's look, the half-elf took the young woman into her arms.

Rowan cried silently, knowing her pain was her own, but also knowing she would have to give strength to others in the keep.

She looked at the man who had always been so strong and prayed for his strength.

“My lady, your uncle sent a reply. He's on his way."