Most of us long to "Be" but when the path gets too costly, or steep, we take solace in what we "Have." Remove the trappings of what we own and then what is the sum of us?
They were the survivors, abandoned by the allies who swore to protect, in...
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Victor Krosse did not like making these excursions, he usually sent another trusted man in his stead. A man Like Greyson or Hawkins. However on this matter his Lord had been most insistent Victor attend personally.
As always it was over a woman, an unattainable woman. Yet another flower in the long procession of endless beauty that was for whatever reason always unacceptable to his dour Lord. She was not a virgin, she spoke too much, she was not as beautiful as her photograph. The list of faults Lothar found in his prospective brides was endless. His aide and second in command had long ago tired of the game.
The price was ridiculous and so was the summons. A turbaned black clad messenger had arrived bearing an artist's hasty rendition of even to his eyes what promised to be a very spectacular woman. Oh we have reentered the medieval days! The Doctor thought sarcastically; as he again unfurled the portrait in his black gloved hands on its ragged canvas. How did he know this likeness was even accurate? It was probably some just demented artist's flight of whimsy, but sadly he must act on it.
Perhaps this will be the last time Victor sighed, as he rode his raven mount under the portcullis and out into the dunes that stretched for an infinity before him. A three day ride in the cold on an ailing man's fancy did not appeal.
He would not worry over his Lord's condition during his absence, his capable fawning understudy Merton would be quite adequate to administer his Lords care. The man would blindly do anything that the good Doctor ordered, and being never formally trained in the vast and complex field of medicine he would do anything he was told. Victor smiled at the thought, even in his absence he still had the capacity to pull the strings of his puppet on the throne.
He did not ride alone, he had six very capable men with him including Major Hawkins a man he implicitly trusted and valued. Perhaps it would not be all bad. Master Jacques did routinely hold some very stimulating entertainments after all. A smile again lit his bitter features as he grimaced into the cold wind thinking on the blood sports he so enjoyed but did not have the leisure to witness.
Victor was sure he would get a private viewing during his visit. Deciding the week's break may just do him good, he had been too long cloistered within these walls. He pulled the high collar up about his neck on his thick, wool military style overcoat. The gold buttons gleamed on the field of stark black, and his put his silver spur to his ebon mount's flank urging it to an easy gallop. His men followed suit.
*****
Three days of hard riding and rough makeshift camps, Victor was glad to see the gates of the adobe walled structure part before him. The trip had been uneventful, a blessing in these dangerous times. Tonight he would enjoy the luxury of good food, fine wine, perhaps a hot bath followed the carnal delights of a well trained slave girl.
He and his men reigned in their tired horses before the water trough, servants and stable boys hurried to break the ice on the water before the thirsty animals.
