Philippe of Morgarath

Chapter Eleven

The days passed him by slowly. He got sick of waiting, and with the days passing he became less and less confident. There were few things he had to arrange, before Malowen allowed him to leave. One of them, was getting Llona pregnant.

Not that Philippe disliked the s*x, no that was not the issue. But every single time she told him her bleeding had started, she came to him with stories of hope and expectations that he would give up his journey. She was still the same shy woman, but she opened up a bit more to him every single day.

Philippe knew he loved her. Or well, respected her. It’s just that there was absolutely no chemistry between him and his wife. She was beautiful, he dared even say that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. But it was just not working.

Even Christophe noticed that things between the two of them were not going smoothly. Philippe tried to put up the act, grab her hand when outsiders were close by. He even tried to smile at her, like he was in love, but it was very hard to do.

When the rest of the Kwarth family left to go back home, Llona blossomed slightly. Where in the start she was the scared little girl that walked behind her big sister, she now started to take on the roll of a lady of Morgarath. She was not yet really confident, but Philippe knew she would get there. Some day.

He had discovered that his wife had an amazing voice. In the evenings she sang to herself, or when she took baths. It was genuinely mind-blowing. Every time he heard her start to hum, he hid himself so she would not see him. Because when she noticed him, she stopped.

She also sang to her belly. It was beautiful, and very cute to see. Sometimes Philippe asked her why she did that, since she was not pregnant yet. But all he got in response was a slight smile. Words were rare.

Christophe on the other hand, did not give Philippe a single smile. His brother, probably more busy with Phil’s departure than Philippe himself, did not speak a single word to his younger brother. He tried to look him in the eye as little as possible. In the start he had tried to fight it, but after a couple of weeks, Malowen stopped him. He told Christophe to mind his own business, and leave his brother alone. Philippe had appreciated it, but it had not made Christophe change his mind. The regent-to-be changed his anger, into cold-shouldering.

Philippe did not feel at home anymore. He really expected his wife to be with child already, and every day his hope grew a little bit more. He even thought he saw her belly enhance slightly, but it could just as well be his imagination.

In the evenings, Philippe entertained himself more and more at the Golden Sabre. It had been months, and months, since him and Reagon made the deal to go together, and Philippe did not want the big man to forget his promise. Especially now that he had to take his younger nephew, an extra pair of sword-wielding-hands could come in handy. It’s better to be safe, than it is to be sorry.

He started to like his travel partner more and more. He would not call them friends yet, but It could happen. And that was a good start.

It was early in the morning, when Philippe got up to do some exercise. Every morning he rose together with the sun, to either run some miles, or practice his sword-fighting. Either with a worthy opponent, or with his cousin, trying to teach him something.

He just passed the stable where Nay was being brushed, when he noticed commotion coming from the gate entrance. Loud voices were speaking, not yet screaming, but it wouldn’t take too much to turn one in to the other. Philippe decided to go towards the noise.

When he reached the southern gate, he noticed that two guards where having defensive stances towards a man with long white hair. He was quite tall, and skinny.

One of the guards held his spear horizontally, and pointed it towards the stranger. The stranger did not seem impressed. He seemed pretty stoic, to be honest. Like he did not have any emotions. In his hands he held a big bow, and Philippe saw from quite a distance that he had big feathery arrows coming from the quiver on his back.

‘What’s going on here?’ he asked, when he knew they all could hear him. The guards both turned back at the regent’s son, while the skinny man did not move an inch.

‘It’s this man, lord Morgarath. He has been standing here for hours, and refuses to move. He has not said a single word.’

Philippe noticed that the guards seemed intimidated, and even scared a little bit. He turned towards the stranger and tried to see if he saw anything out of the ordinary. The moment their eyes met, the stranger randomly starting to relax his posture. He even seemed to bow, ever so slightly.

‘Who are you’, Philippe asked surprised. ‘And why are you here?’ the man did not answer.

‘It’s been very amusing’, he heard a feminine voice say. ‘But let me help you guys out here.’ Philippe turned his face to the right, and noticed a young woman had appeared. She had dark hair, which was bound together messy. She was wearing tight, dark clothing and also Philippe noticed a bow on her back as well. A bit shorter than the one the tall, long haired stranger was holding.

Instinctively Philippe put his hand on the top of the sword that was hanging from his belt. Something about the woman was intimidating him, he couldn’t quite place it.

The woman smiled, and shrugged. ‘I’m not here to fight’, she continued. She pointed at the tall guy next to her. ‘This is Uhno, he does not speak. The only sound I have ever heard him make, was something similar to his name. Which is why I call him that way.’ She showed her teeth. ‘My name is Merya. And we’re here to join your quest.

Philippe frowned. ‘What are you talking about’, he said. She shrugged once again.

‘Did we misunderstand, are you not trying to figure out the rising danger of the Muerthalls?’ Philippe did not know what to answer, which she took as the answer she needed. ‘Well then, we are coming with you.’

The regent’s son shook his head. ‘I do not even know you, and I travel alone. You are not coming with me.’

Merya smiled, and he noticed sarcasm when she said: ‘And how about the Sabre’s drunk?’ Reagon… he must have told her. ‘I have unfinished business with the Muerthalls on the main land’, the girl continued. ‘So either you take us, or we go alone. The choice is yours, regentboy.’