Ruricca NoOnesDaughter knelt on cold stone in the courtyard of Rainn Castle. Exceptional wind stung her eyes as she held the body of Lord Sedal Rainn in her arms. The arrow had dropped from the sky, it seemed, guided by that mad wind, piercing his unarmored breast, kissing his silk shirt with a point of steel, and leaving a rose of blood. She had been the first to run to him when he cried out, to uphold him as he fell from his mount, faster than anyone, faster than the Lord's son. Thus, his last words were to her before he died:
"You, who are at my side, in responsibility and mercy, are the one who by law must hold the Castle."
Shocking words.
Kimre Rainn had come breathless, a minute too late, past the crowd of silent people gathered around the incident, and threw himself upon his father's body, sobbing silently. His long ebony hair soaked up crimson where it touched his father's blood. And when he lifted his face to her, there was stark fury mixed with anguish. Apparently he knew very well what had been said to her, knew the tradition of his father and the father before him, and had always counted on being at his father's side on his deathbed.
And now, his birthright was swept away from him by this nothing, this nameless waif who looked not a summer older than fifteen. He had seen her only last evening in the great Hall, performing with the other jesters and gypsy fools that had come to dance and sing and tumble, thus earning bread before his father. She had done some pathetic sleight-of-hand, dressed in a vulgar costume of rainbow colors and tiny bells. And then later, she had drawn a small harp and sang, and her voice was admittedly better than expected--good enough in fact that the Lord his father had called her to him and she sang to him a ballad of his own choosing.
After the song had ended, Kimre remembered seeing pale fluid features underneath a fool's cap, the timbre of a clear voice announcing to the Lord Rainn that she was Ruricca NoOnesDaughter.
"And how shall I reward you for your graceful singing?" Lord Sedal had asked with a nostalgic smile still lingering on his features.
"I need nothing, my Lord," she said, bowing, half-dancing before him. "I've already eaten, so it appears I've already been paid."
But the old gypsy woman from the lower table had glanced intently at her, and Ruricca nodded, saying, "On the other hand, the fates change, and I need something after all, to repay the good widow Chiccose who has let me ride with her people. What would you give me in your wisdom, my Lord?"
And Lord Rainn had then ordered a purse of coins to be brought to her, which were immediately passed on to the gypsy.
Ruricca took one coin from the purse before handing it away, and with a bright laugh she threw it up in the air, so that the Lord and all gathered in the hall saw a shining upswept comet of light. The coin came spinning down with the reflected fire of the torches, and landed in her open palm. Glancing down upon it, the smile had left her fluid features, and she looked at the Lord with a knowing intensity. "Do not go outside tomorrow, my Lord," she had said strangely then. "My thanks for your gift."
Kimre remembered all that as he now stared, in anger and with some other feeling, at this odd girl-woman who was holding his dead father and whose face was pale like the Castle walls.
She was now, by a wicked quirk of fate, the Lady of Rainn Castle.
"I am sorry, my Lord..." said Arwes, the captain of the guard. "The attack happened so fast that we had no time to--"
"Who did this to my father?" interrupted Kimre, his voice rising like a storm. "Was it a Blackeyre arrow?"
"It appears so, we saw soldiers wearing Lord Devath's colors in the field below...."
"And you did nothing?" The young man's voice cracked in accusation, heedless of the effect of such a display.
"But my Lord--"
"Don't call me 'Lord,'" exclaimed Kimre hoarsely, raising a proud horrible face. "You must not call me that ever again. I had failed in my duty. You have a new Lady now, and you must swear to her."
And the people stood silent, with heads lowered, because all knew he was right. The law of this land dictated that the one who had risked his life and was at the present Lord's side at his moment of death, was to be the next Lord. However, to make sure that the death was not in fact prematurely contrived by the candidate, each new "Lord" would go through a trial period where the death was thoroughly investigated.
Thus, because of the unusual rules of succession, loyalty to each Lord of the Castle had been guaranteed by the heir who was always to remain at his side, to watch and guard. For, the Castle was different from all others, it was said, a place which cradled within it an occult secret. This secret was protected by each generation's Lord of the Castle, while many outsiders had sought to breach its surreal mystery.
Ruricca looked at the stricken young man with the black hair who leaned against the corpse, only inches away from her.
"I am sorry..." she said softly, "I was merely standing here ... I tried to help ... I did not mean to--get in the way."
He looked at her blankly, with a piercing coldness. "It is done," he said. And then he lifted his father's body, bearing him like a precious parcel, and carried him into the Castle.
Ruricca was left standing in a circle of Castle folk. She had risen from her kneeling position only to be walled in by stony faces, alien eyes. They looked at the thin pale young waif in a gaudy coat with silent accusation. And beyond the silence there was fear--a fear of the future.
Ruricca's period of trial and judgement was about to begin.
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