Chapter 7

"And what justice is conferred on the Pawn placed forward to take the strike waged against a Bishop, even in the game of Chess?"

~

The Physician's Wing of the Imperial Castle,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

Break of Dawn,

The first Phriday of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

Imogen yawned as she stretched. The earliest phases of dawn waited to be spent, before her chores would begin.

It was rather odd that she had seen a vision standing at the summit of the demolished Cross-Fraught, disappearing into the night. She vaguely suspected it to have been a dream, for it looked nebulous, but a sensation stirred within, claiming that it was otherwise; it struck deeply familiar: much like One she saw oft when a patient was heaving their final breath.

True as it was that the sight was as strange and supernatural as fiction conceived in the mind of an imaginative child, Imogen had endured a fair amount of peculiarity in her two decades.

She looked out to see that it continued to drizzle early this morning after the rains heard all night. Everything about the cold weather and the heavens' gift of dissolved clouds falling to the earth was pleasant.

There had been a downpour the previous afternoon, after nearly three months, and it was gladly invited. After all, the showers brought the hope that Dragon Raids would be restrained.

The vermillion-haired damsel rose from the mattress and began folding her spread. She had not the pleasure of assuming a peaceful rest this night, for there was tension in the Imperial Castle, as it had been at uncommon circumstances.

Imogen could call to recollection a few such. For instance, there was a one time: when pirates had arrived at the coasts, perturbations had arisen even to the affairs conducted at the castle, since the Regent had to arrange for the forces that would deal with the untimely advent. But that had been a few years prior to the present.

There had been several times, this like-night, when she had tossed and turned; the lucid dreams and slumber that would eclipse reality from one's consciousness had not curtained her awareness this night.

She could discern the unease when her Lady Minerva, the Chief Physician, had oft arisen to attend the door. It is commonly unlikely for persons to bother her at late hours, for she was much elder both in Status and age; but at perilous situations as injury within royal courts, Lady Minerva was sought.

Imogen knew that this night's various calls had not been of any association to healing or tending, for in such case, she would have been called to assist. After all, being her Lady's sole apprentice did come with its own weight of responsibility.

Faithful to the role, she would always rise to the service of the royal Physician whether or not she was summoned. However, she had been terribly weary this last night, and could not recollect being called for. The maiden orientated her bed and moved to arrange the Lady's.

It was strange that she had not already arranged hers, for her Ladyship's etiquette and order were as superior that an army of unkempt men could adapt to absolute discipline from passively observing her for a day.

Just then, Imogen looked up to see Lady Minerva hastened inside and latched the door behind her.

"M'lady-", the young apprentice began to greet, cheerfully, before the woman hurried to speak: "My darling, I am glad you are awake, we have a dire occasion at hand."

Imogen felt the rising apprehension as she bowed to heed. "We require you to escape, but I have much to inquire of you. Quick, you must hide, dear", she said, her voice evincing tension, her demeanour hastening.

The girl felt fear and anxiety– and that was merely at the innocence of the event. "What's h-happened, m'lady?" she asked, following her elder.

Lady Minerva exhausted the shelf of all of her garments and began tying the ends of each of the gowns and shawls to form a long rope. She stopped to look straight into the mismatched eyes of her apprentice and asked: "What occurred when you met Jehu last night?"

The damsel blinked, a spear of shock claiming a heartbeat from the direct yet abrupt question, and she responded: "Nothing beyond the ordinary, I was tired and after providing him bread, I returned home before the rainfall."

As she spoke, her mind began to draw the essence of what she could recall from the previous night while only the voice of unbothered rain and shifting cloth sustained between the two.

She remembered seeing Jaycob there, conversing with Jehu whilst she had left, her conversation with Crescence and subsequently, the blood on the Archer's hand.

An odd sensation churned within when she considered whether the stains had not belonged to him at all. Had he injured Jehu? Was that why he had left on a long journey so urgently? Was she now framed for some grave injury he had caused Jehu?

"I tried waking you various times last night, but to no avail. It must have been the effect of Rivenhove", said the Lady as her hands searched for the hems of each of the apparels and knotted them. The Elder's left hand was more proficient than her right in the game of swiftness and activity.

"But I took no Rivenhove, m'lady; not with such rains", Imogen contended, wondering why there wasn't a speck of news, that early morning, that was sensible.

"My dear, the whole town was afflicted- but we have no time to spare for explanation. Don't fret, we will have you escape until this misconception recedes", whispered Lady Minerva and Imogen swallowed in disbelief. She could not comprehend the rush, but she could distinguish sufficiently to know she was to face severe accusation.

The damsel closed her eyes hoping for the nightmare to flee when she returned to the depths of her unconscious slumber, but opened them back to see the same setting persist: Her Lady's hands scampering for cloth.

Imogen bent forth to assist her, watching her trembling fingers reach for the garments. "How shall I hide myself?" she asked, the quivers in her voice showing fear.

~

"I will cast this rope of clothes down the window and if you can descend this tower, run for cover. Be sure, my dear, to not drench your-self in the showers. I shall concoct a tale to conceal your presence", said the Lady before a click of her tongue. The cloth was not sufficient to rappel the damsel down to the heel of the building.

The tension of the moment and all the proceedings of the previous night were beginning to cause Lady Minerva's head to ache, but there wasn't as much as an hour that could be afforded at such tribulation.

"Did anyone see you enter the castle yestreen?" asked the woman, her mind probing for alternatives to abseiling, such as informing that the maiden was not at the castle at all and that she had been away on a medical engagement across town.

However, there was no means of denying her visit to Hazenvale last eventide, as the scent of Rivenhove had not worn off her body and attire. The possible inhalation of the substance justified why the child had been as tired and had not arisen when Lady Minerva had jostled her several times to awaken that night.

The fairest hope was that the motion may have caused the girl to be able to collect frail traces of the great agitations roused that night.

Imogen nodded. "I was with Crescence and Jaycob. The guards also noticed me entering when I arrived", said she, before the two heard a loud thud.

"Quick", said the elder and rushed to cast the rope of clothes down the window, when there was another great force heard against their door. "Can you descend until the next window down beneath?" whispered the lady, and Imogen hurried a nod, eyes glazed with tears of fear.

Lady Minerva's heart could not bear to see the child's anxiety, for she was scarcely close to being a criminal and the circumstance that such ill-happenings would befall her was unacceptable.

However, that was no time for feelings; there was much to be done if these were to be evaded. Imogen placed a foot on the wet stone of the window, where the drops of rain were softly pattering, before a couple of loud strikes felled the door and men from the army marched straight into the chamber, fetters, shackles and weapons in hand.

"The Supreme power summons your arrest", said the man leading the troop, holding forth a Warrant bearing the seal and signature of the Imperial Regent. Another man stepped forward to Lady Minerva, "Pardon, m'lady, but we are required to rescind your indenture with this maiden and terminate her apprenticeship."

Her heart was as loud as thunder and her knees felt weak at the face of such adversity; but the physician knew that this was a time for her to stand a pillar, for Imogen needed strength. "But she has committed no crime, you cannot seize her!" she demanded, feeling an adrenaline surge that she was charging at one with superior power.

She felt Imogen's hand on her shoulder and wrapped an arm around the maiden's waist, feeling the fair girl rest her weight against her.

"My deepest apologies, ladies, but this is the Order of affairs and it must strictly be adhered to", said the commanding officer before taking the girl's wrists and locking them to the clasp of handcuffs. The shackles were heavy and cold, with a chain extending there-forth, till the grasp of the officer.

Lady Minerva's facade of fortitude began to waver, as her tolerance to the situation slimmed. Imogen seemed to be so stilled with fear and shock that the girl was surrendering to every false claim.

"A moment, if you would kindly grant", said the Physician, and the men conceded to her petition. Lady Minerva saw Imogen's pleading eyes search hers as she placed a palm on the girl's cheek. "My darling, take heart, I bless you to be safe", the Lady said, leaning close and placing a tender kiss on her forehead.

She felt a teardrop touch her vest and needed no words to know that her child had yielded all hope, and this single blessing was much needed.

Imogen's parting glance: eyes still wistful, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks and silent, still stood in the motherly Physician's eyes as the party began to move.

The Lady leaned against the wall, feeling her strength depart and a great weight of sorrow settle within as she watched the men lead her innocent apprentice away.

The man who had required her to sever the Indenture waited and Lady Minerva turned to acknowledge his presence. "I plead with you: grant me to know of the agenda of proceedings as they are fulfilled."

The man smiled and gave her a nod, "Of course; you have tended most of our men to ripe health, and myself. As men with no power beyond bringing Ordinance to implementation, this is the very least we could serve you, m'lady."

"Will she be granted a trial?", asked the elder woman, earnestly.

The man averted his eyes and scratched the nape of his neck. "That is difficult to say. An ordeal would be the most affordable."

Her heart dropped at the unsightly news, her face lost colour. "And what is pending?", she asked, although she knew precisely what to expect.

"Forthright execution"

~