Haven

Carpe Diem

The knight wore a light, cuir bouilli armor. He was making his way quietly towards the gregarious group of knights assembled around the fire, the dark-brown shade of his armor blending with the night.

Duncan recognized him and wondered what the 'scrawny spawn of Ioannis' and Dragon prince's secret right hand was looking for.

The knights wore the blue and gold colors of Tamas's house. They didn't seem to care about their load as none of them glanced at the goods wagon they were hired to protect.
The leather-clad knight approached the wagon with great care. He glanced for a moment at the wooden chest. Its engravings hinted at a small hidden treasure. Duncan knew it wasn't. The knight knew it too as he appraised again the loud group and turned to a coarse trunk on the wagon's edge.
He made short work of picking the lock and ruffled through what it seemed discarded clothing. He pulled a green child's dress, hugged it to his heart and stared.
Duncan sucked in a breath willing stop the anger threatening to overcome him. It took only a moment to regain his bearing, enough to miss the drunken warrior approaching the knight with a leering grin.
'You be a handsome lad' the drunk knight leered again
The knight in cuir bouilli reached at his belt to pull his dagger when his opponent's words ended in a bloody gurgle. Duncan wiped his black knife and motioned for silence.
'Gyorgy, who are you talking to? ', an approaching voice inquired.
Duncan rushed to her side and breathed:
'Stan, pack your bloody dress and run! '
The surprise showed on Stan's face for a moment, and he turned to leave.
Duncan engaged the approaching knight and dispatched him rapidly. The scuffle sounds alerted the rest of the group. Swords drawn, they were closing the distance, and fifteen knights were too many to face.
He crossed himself and prayed he will make it in time to his horse. In the same breath, he cursed when he saw Stan saddled and prepared for battle.
'Told you to run...' Duncan hissed between his teeth
'We cover each other...' Stan replied engaging the first drunken knight in the group.
Duncan nodded curtly and parried the blow aimed at him.
After a while Duncan saw Stan's strength failing. He wasn't faring much better.
'Time to run!' he mouthed in Latin.
Stan nodded in agreement, turned his mount and spurred it in a frantic gallop. Duncan followed and led the drunken knights towards the wooded hills.
He entered the forest and headed to the ravine. The path continued on the edge of the crevasse, first left, then right and veering suddenly to the left again. The sight was nauseating for a sober body. It was surely daunting after imbibing the local sweet brandy. Duncan grimaced with disgust but promised to appreciate more its abilities to thwart an enemy.
He paid no attention to the loud thump and bloodcurdling cry he heard when one of his attackers fell down into the deep ravine. He spurred his horse to the top and disappeared on the other side.

It was eerie silent, and the full moon lit up the path before him. After making sure once again nobody followed him, he turned into the forest. If his guess was right, he knew where to find Stan. He burned to ask him about the dress and its owner.
He rolled his shoulders. He was there when the Dragon prince found out of Niklaus' death. Stan was there, he remembered, and for a moment, in full armor, staying near the prince, their eyes glimmered with the same lethal knowledge. Nothing remained of Tamas and Miklos, their lands forfeit. The prince made sure Erzsbet's traitorous kin all but disappeared.

Would he and Peter had told Niklaus how they knew Erzsbet, would have he listened? However, they didn't. Now Niklaus was dead, and he was left with guilt lapping at his conscience.
Then why did Niklaus whispered him to find the owner of the dress? And why he felt his dying words didn't ask for punishment but for protection?

Duncan entered the clearing and glanced toward the lake. The slender figure cast against the backdrop of the blue lake stole his breath.
A tangle of wet curls moistened the shirt just above her breasts. Straight legs showed from the shift covering them midtigh.
He sucked in a breath and licked his sudden dry lips.
The girl raised her head and looked at the intruder. In the pale moonlight reflected in the water she recognized him. This time he didn't wear that awful skirt but a pair of leather breeches and a light armor. She remembered that day before the tournament. She was training, and with every hit on the dummy, her confidence was growing, and she could see herself winning. Her smile was turning into a grin as she let herself slide in the strike-duck-parry dance. Invincible! That's how she imagined the knights must feel when victory is within their grasp.

He must have recognized her because he covered the few paces separating them and silently took her in his arms. His chin rested on her head, and he closed his eyes. He felt her shaking, then tense, and his hands went in a comforting motion up and down her arms.

He opened his eyes, and noticed the dress. He felt the anger swelling in him.

'I didn't know you for a thief, why did you steal the dress? ', he asked.
'Because it is mine. It always was mine.' she added between gritted teeth.

Duncan stilled and pushed her away. He felt the bitter taste of bile in his mouth.

The look of steel returned to her face.

'And it will always be! Nobody will take hi... it from me! Never again! '

Before he knew, she retrieved her sword and the dress from the ground and stood ready to face him. She clutched the sword's pommel. Tight. She then relaxed her grip and assumed the stance. She flexed her thumb and reveled in its soreness. Just like that day before the tournament.

He engaged her with a blow that resonated through her bones. That day she dropped the sword, now she held.

'Niklaus met or rather discovered a girl in Ioannis' castle when he was but a lad. She wore a green dress. Just like the one you have in your hands.'
Stan answered with an attack to his side. He dodged.

'He was so taken with the… dress' he looked at her accusingly.

Stan closed her eyes for a second, enough for Duncan to lounge. She recovered, dodged and managed to stay unscathed. The dress didn't. A long slash on its skirt marred now its beauty.

Her face clouded.

'You pig headed...boor' she stammered and lounged towards Duncan. He didn't expect the low, fast blow and felt the sharp sting on his left arm.
'Mistake number 2, antagonizing your enemy.' she drawled his words. He remembered the day before the tournament, when he discovered... the beautiful girl fancying herself a knight, sorely in need of a lesson.

'You pulled the veil on everyone's eyes for years, you lying wench' he hissed and targeted the dress again.

'That I did! And I paid dearly for it' she sighed.

He was unprepared for the admission and paid with another sting, in his side.

'Mistake number 3' she started but he didn't let her finish,

'Niklaus' knew you weren't a man, didn't he? What with your slender figure, silky curls and large brown eyes, so sad that would make any man...'

Stan dropped her sword arm and looked at him with her said large brown eyes. Only this time they weren't sad but bewildered and several shades darker. Pink crept up her cheeks and Duncan could feel the awareness growing between them.

Duncan caught himself and remembered the vile creature he was dealing with.
'You don't deny it, don't you?'
She shook her head. 'And Miklos… and I suspect Erzsbet and Tamas shortly after. A bribe well placed and secrets will be spilled...' she sighed.
Duncan gasped.
'You knew it too.', she caught herself smiling. He aggravated her that day; she was about to blurt an angry 'who do you think you are' when he turned and saluted her with two fingers on the edge of his silly bonnet. 'Duncan' he said.
Duncan didn't smile back but pressed on:
'You repaid his love with the one thing you know... Deception! He offered for that traitorous wench, why didn't he offer for you?'

Stan looked at him, and remorse showed in her eyes.
'Deception has been my constant companion....' She dropped her sword.
'I loved him, and I thought he loved me; until he asked me about the dress. There was so much longing in his eyes, eagerness, hope. I denied the dress was mine...'
Duncan found himself unable to contain his anger. And something else he faintly recognized as desire.
'I let her take him.' she continued.
'Once I did, I found I didn't have any fight left. I didn't want anything she had...'

Duncan spat on the ground. Trails of tears were streaming quietly on her cheeks. Duncan fought for breath. Had she raised her sword again against him, he would have slain her without a thought. He resented the doubts her tears cast on his righteous rage.
He grabbed her hair and tried to ignore its silkiness. He dropped his sword and grabbed her shirt and forced her up. She resisted, and the shirt gave way.
There it was, on her heaving chest, right above her heart the coiling image of the dragon.

That couldn't be.

He sucked in a breath, lifted his hands as burned and let her fall.
Her eyes were now dark and unmoving.
'My name is Dochia, Duncan. I am guilty of many things, including deception. There is one thing you are mistaken about: I never asked Niklaus to forsake his oath...' She lightly touched her heart as she spoke.

'Pride, Duncan. It was the deadly sin of pride that stopped me from telling the truth to Niklaus. The truth about the dress…' she fiddled with her shirt, 'the truth about… my love.' Her eyes bore into him, telling him she knew about his dalliances with Erzsbet. She dared him to tell his reasons of shielding the truth.
Determination was back in her eyes, and her jaw was set. Gone was the vulnerable girl of which he got a glimpse earlier. This only strengthened his opinion of her deceptive ways.

As if she read his thoughts she continued:
'I am thrilled of your err... appreciation. Although for one moment, I thought you'd follow through and end this life of deceit. What a disappointment. What would one expect from a man in skirts? ', she taunted.

She donned her leather vest to cover her torn shirt and picked up the rest of her clothing.

In three steps, Duncan reached her. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear.
'I saw desire in your eyes, deny it.', he challenged her. 'Stay with me tonight, you have my promise nothing will happen that you don't want'.
He turned her in his arms and opened his shirt until she saw the same coiled dragon above his heart. She wasn't mistaken then; he was 'one of the few'. She knew he will keep his promise. She nodded and trembled when his lips came down on hers. So much for… and then she realized he didn't break any promise; there was nothing she didn't want.

Duncan released her and motioned her to start gathering wood for the campfire. Soon a small, playful fire burned in front of them. Conversation flowed, and they shared her food and his sweet brandy flagon.
'Carpe Diem' whispered Duncan before retiring for the night.

Exhausted, Dochia covered her face with her hands, her elbows resting on her knees. The images played repeatedly in her mind. It was Niklaus asking permission for her first kiss. And later, his heated embrace. Her timid attempt at intimacy and his trembling hand stopping her: 'I... cannot'. Anger built in her, as always. The sting of denial still burned. Growing up in the lists, she had little understanding of the obscure boundary separating honor and rejection.

Why didn't she press on? Stopping made perfect sense then, but she forgot why. The ache in her heart came back with a vengeance. Her thoughts were mocking her: 'Niklaus is gone and there is nothing you can do. There are no second chances, seize the moment, or you'll regret it forever.'

'Carpe Diem' she muttered.

Dochia flexed her hands and stood boldly. The girl she was died with Niklaus. She wasn't anymore the gauche offspring of a lesser lord. This time she will seize the day.

'Carpe Diem' she whispered and purposefully strode into the dark.