Betrayal

Chapter 5

Cecilia lazily admired the heavy fog dancing across horizon as her carriage rambled along the stone lined road carved in the impossibly wet landscape. The effect of the barely there sunlight filtering though the haze was breathtaking. There was a certain smell in the air that convinced the redhead it would rain that evening. At her side Beth was snoring with the ferocity of a dragon but Cecilia didn't have the heart to wake her up. Poor thing was already overworked as it is acting like multiple maids at once. Even Simon perched on the seat outside the carriage had stopped talking which was a miracle sent from above.

They were changing camps and moving to another location much to her dismay. The flower was nowhere to be found in their last two locations and they were on their way to a third. She prayed in her heart this would be their last stop before they found the flower and made the cure. Damian and Delilah were depending on her. The kingdom would fall apart if the plague continued to ravage the countryside.

Her thoughts were disturbed by the slowing pace of her carriage. She leaned out of her window to observe the situation. Her carriage was in a long line of carriages and carts carrying all sorts of personnel and equipment. The cart in front of her seemed to be carrying Barring's odious feather bed and it had slowed down to an unbearable pace. A soldier on the side of the stone pathway was waving the slow moving procession ahead and she called out at him.

"What seems to be the problem, Soldier?"

The man's eyes went so wide the whites of his eyes dominated his face.

"L-Lady,there was some trouble with one of the carts but it's.. it's-" He trailed off with a gulp as if her previous illness was going to catch him any moment.

Cecilia rolled her eyes at the man's sheer fright at her sudden appearance and crossed her arms grumpily taking her previous position. Beth was still snoring unperturbed by the delay.

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Once at the campsite the men set out to laying the perimeter and pegging down the white canvas tents. The first tent to go up was their research lair. It was where the men would gather everyday to compare notes and progress after a hard day of work of crawling all over the terrain looking for the illusive flower.

The research team were having their first meeting at the new location and yet again failed to inform her of it. It was only by luck she noticed dirt covered Lord Fanning ducking into the tent while she was making her way to find the stranger. She changed her paths and followed the tall, pompous man inside. The guards were too pigeon hearted to say a word. She smiled approvingly at their placidness.

The team was sitting around a flimsy fold-able table with mounds of paperhanging over the edges. A chalkboard was covered with a map of the countryside along with a terrible rendition of the flower. She wondered who the abysmal artist was.

She sat down primly adjusting her velvet skirts unnecessarily. They ignored her presence and continued with the meeting as if she wasn't there which was a relief. She vastly preferred it to being frogmarched out like an insolent child. Sir Russell was furiously jotting down on a sheet of paper, leaving ink splotches everywhere when she arrived and began announcing timings for the lead researchers to head out with the troops. Lord Fanning then started informing them about his findings of the areas he had searched in.