//------------------------------// // Bump in the Night // Story: Thy Kingdom Come // by Wayward Son //------------------------------// Chapter Two ~ Bump in the Night Roderick laid to bed in a little private quarter of his in the Vanguard barracks, on into the night the shouts from the men, their chanting and their drinking all audible from his room where he yearned for a good rest for the ‘morrow’s journey. He slept ready for the great adventure, only his steel plates removed, still burdened with his underclothes. His sword laid long the bedside, recently cleaned and shined by the Court’s Blacksmith apprentice, a young boy by the name Jormont. What he lacked in physical appearance, with his freckled face, puffed cheeks and red hair, he made up for in his craft, fine Celestial Steel War hammers to Iron Ingots used to forge blunt Maces or savage picks. The Blacksmith himself, the men of the court simply dubbed him as Smithy, is the proclaimed best blacksmith in all of the Kingdom of Man; he personally designs and forges the armour of the Vanguard, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, and if it broke he’d put it all back together again. The room itself was quite compact, a single bed stretched along a blank, brown wall that had a tapestry of a quite muddled scene woven and displayed along it, to the left of the bed was a small table, two chairs, this sat right in front of the harsh, weathered wooden door. The foot of the bed was a dresser, in which Roderick’s armour currently occupied, to the left of the bed, right of said door was a fire place, the embers burned out, a poker strewn forth from its mouth and laid across the carpet, which brought together the whole room and made the cold wooden floor more appealing. The hour grew late, the men grew quiet and Roderick finally began to bunker down for rest, until he was disturbed at his chamber door with three, swift knocks. The already edged Roderick became flustered by this, simply wishing to quicken the painful wait until his departure the following morning. Sitting up with a sigh he looked towards the door, placing his bare feet upon the floor he stood, lifting them ever so carefully he took two long strides at was greeted by the wooden door, drawing across the brass cover off the peep hole he peered through, the he caught the figure of an anonymous individual, draped in a raincoat similarly to that of a groundskeeper of the castle, Roderick drew weary, cautiously he opened the door, both hands ready to slam it shut at the gleam of a dagger. “Who awakes me with a bump in the night?” he spoke with a yawn, attempting to intimidate the individual, who in return simply brought down their hood and razed their head, he was greeted with a pair of blue eyes and platted blonde hair “Oh… Your majesty…” he gave a slight bow, opening his door so that he was in total view, and more open to discussion rather than through an ajar door. “I had no idea it was you my Queen, what brings you to my door at such an hour?” He smiled politely, she brought up a hand, in it was a bottle of what appeared to be a red wine “A gift Captain, from I and my ‘loving’ husband… for your trip…” Roderick took the bottle, looking at the label he smiled “From the grasslands of the south, Good old human labour with Equestrian fruits…” he gave a faint laugh, before looking up to her again “I am flattered your majesty.” He turned to his side, placing the bottle on the table, as he did so the Queen invited herself in; Roderick looked up, annoyed at her arrogance but was in no position or lacked the motivation to complain. The Queen pulled up her dress slightly as she took a seat by the table, facing the bed and the opposite chair, Roderick proceeded to occupy the other chair, about to speak but interrupted “Yes, I get my fruit from the Equestrians; you just have to know the right traders… I know of an orchard in a hamlet known of ‘Pony-Ville’ by the Gods they produce most delicious apples.” She smiled. Roderick smiled, pulling the cork from the bottle “Aye, I would tell you my tales but they are not suited for a lady such as you.” They laughed in unison; Roderick poured the fair lady a mug of the fine wine, it was the mug of a peasant but of all things the barracks lacked the least present thing was that of class. She took the glace gracefully, Roderick watched as she raised it to her soft red lips, she sipped and smiled, Roderick began to attempt and comprehend what in the seven hells is going on, placing his arms on the table, interlocking his fingers beside the open bottle he spoke “Your husband would be missing you my Queen.” She gave a forced laugh “Yes, my husband…” She sighed, and with that another drink. It did not take a Mage of the Glades to understand that this woman was not satisfied and took no joy in being coupled with her husband. “I knew your father Lady Goldenclaw.” He addressed her formally but by her maiden name, reminding her of her once proud house, her ear was upon him as well as her interest “I was but a boy, but he was a fine man. He would come to Red Rock Castle for a Tourney or simply to speak with my father, I was not welcome at the table to eat with him, but of my siblings he treated me equal to them, in his eyes I was no bastard…” She nodded; delighted in the change of subject she gave Roderick a grin “My father is a wise man…” she finished the drink, then let out a sigh. They simply shared a look for a few moments; Roderick broke the silence “It was a pleasure having your presence tonight my lady…” He stood up, letting out a sigh to attempt to break the awkward silence “But I think you should be going…” She quickly rotated to him in her chair, straining her dress as it got caught on the table “Wait! I don’t want to go back…” She turned away from Roderick, shocked at her outburst “I mean, I don’t wish to return to my husband yet…” she sunk her head slightly. Roderick could tell she was upset, he constantly saw his father and his wife argue, most of the time about Roderick himself, and constantly being referred to as ‘Your Bastard’, the word still hurts him today. He knew the two had been fighting, for what cause he did not want to ask or intrude, he knew that the King was quite the stuck up little shit, constantly getting his breeches in a twist and lashing out at others for it, she was just another victim. “Take my chamber.” He spoke, looking down at her; she turned to him slowly, still visibly upset “Captain Windermere…?” she whimpered “Is no trouble to me.” He responded, in fact it was trouble, he just wanted a rest. Some solace from the task ahead of him. The young woman leaped from the chair, wrapping her arms around the neck of Roderick, who himself was caught off guard, the Queen hugging a bastard son from the Red Rocks of the West; awkwardly he patted her on the back. Without another word, she released him, looking up with a smile to the six foot man, and he looked down to her, turning on his bare heels he walked out, gently shutting the door behind himself he peered across to her, standing in her gold dress with her hands held in front of her, still looking unsatisfied, as she had done since she entered. And with that he closed the door. Still in a daze from his awakening and from the whole surreal situation, Roderick slumped against the wall facing his room in the narrow, dimply lit stone corridor, placing his heads between his lap he attempted to get some rest in this sleepless, bizarre evening.