Post by Rayven on Jul 11, 2004 13:05:58 GMT -5
The morning first dawn cloudy and windy with the rain obviously imminent before noon hour. Nonetheless I kept to my schedule, even though fears were threatening to overwhelm me despite my best efforts.
An early mass was said even before the sunrise, had we even been able to see the sun as it rose through molten clouds of gray.
The fast was broke in the hall, fresh trenchers of bread, still warm from the ovens and hollowed out for the oat stirabout were set at each place. I could not eat. My stomach rolled nervously.
Still I knew I could not go the day without a good meal to sustain me so I dutifully shoveled the hot cereal into my unwilling mouth. It lay in my stomach like a stone. I sipped the goblet of watered wine. It lay sour atop the oat stirabout. I nibbled at some cheese, but it tasted salty and dry. Finally, I arose, went about starting my day.
Preparations were made; the castle stood strong and secure, those within its walls safe. Despite the hurried whispers of Sir Dorian last evening in the hall, I felt all was well, so why then this feeling of foreboding?
Was it the mention of hiding the women in a secured room should trouble erupt that frightened me so?
The mere thought of being cloistered in a small room without benefit of windows or fresh air made my lungs constrict and my heart race. I couldn’t stay there and my unwillingness to go would certainly be looked upon as folly or worse.
I must speak to the king about this and soon for I fear there isn’t much time.
An early mass was said even before the sunrise, had we even been able to see the sun as it rose through molten clouds of gray.
The fast was broke in the hall, fresh trenchers of bread, still warm from the ovens and hollowed out for the oat stirabout were set at each place. I could not eat. My stomach rolled nervously.
Still I knew I could not go the day without a good meal to sustain me so I dutifully shoveled the hot cereal into my unwilling mouth. It lay in my stomach like a stone. I sipped the goblet of watered wine. It lay sour atop the oat stirabout. I nibbled at some cheese, but it tasted salty and dry. Finally, I arose, went about starting my day.
Preparations were made; the castle stood strong and secure, those within its walls safe. Despite the hurried whispers of Sir Dorian last evening in the hall, I felt all was well, so why then this feeling of foreboding?
Was it the mention of hiding the women in a secured room should trouble erupt that frightened me so?
The mere thought of being cloistered in a small room without benefit of windows or fresh air made my lungs constrict and my heart race. I couldn’t stay there and my unwillingness to go would certainly be looked upon as folly or worse.
I must speak to the king about this and soon for I fear there isn’t much time.