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From: S THOMAS BUSH <stbush@iglou.com>
Subject: Camara, Lady of the Sword - Heroic Fantasy (8/9)
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Camara, Lady of the Sword - Heroic Fantasy  

Book 1 - "Hope and a Prayer" - Chapter 8 / 9

Story #6
By Tom Bombadil  (c) Sep 1997

********************************************************************

Previous chapters of this story are found at Shelby's Web Page.  The
editor/posting agent will not email stories.  Please do not ask.  
Subsequent chapters will be posted on a.s.s and a.s.s.m weekly.

********************************************************************
   All of the Tom Bombadil stories are found at Shelby's Web Page:
            http://members.iglou.com/stbush/stories.html
********************************************************************

Disclaimer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended 
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is 
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are 
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you 
might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this 
text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions 
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work of 
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or 
actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in 
my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or 
relatives.

You've been warned.

********************************************************************

( The bard:

Patience, patience, my Lady.  The story has some meat left on its 
bones yet.  If you wish to leave now, you may of course, but I 
shall be finishing this tale tonight even if none stay to hear 
my voice.

Yes, my Lord.  A fresh round would be in order.  Pardon?  Yes, the 
swordplay is all but finished.  The equally important matters, 
those of the heart and spirit, remain.  

You are correct.  Without the sword, there would be no body left to 
appreciate or understand these matters.  Yet, without passion, will, 
and desire, the sword would forever remain sheathed.  The two are 
opposite ends of the same loaf.  Remove either, and you are left 
with little more than a crust.

To continue, it is a night and a day later ... )


The bed was soft, the sheets cool, and the coverlets light and 
warm.  M'Lady relaxed in decadent luxury, alone for the night, 
feeling completely pampered and spoiled.  The king's consort had 
decided Camara needed some attention, and so dispatched two of her 
best handmaidens to see to Camara's every need.  Those needs, as 
seen by the servants, included a proper royal bath - with the 
washing and drying done by them, of course - a proper royal massage, 
ointments and perfumes, silk and satin bedclothes, and a real 
brushing of her hair, continuing until it crackled in the air and 
shone like the finest satin.  After six months of living in either a 
tent or modest inn, that was indulgence like she had almost 
forgotten existed.

They left only after being assured by Lady Camara that she would do 
absolutely nothing on her own in the morning.  She had to promise to 
send word to them the moment she felt like stirring from her bed.  
M'Lady thought that event unlikely until noon, at the earliest, the 
way her body ached, and with the difficulty she had opening her eyes 
each time she blinked.  Within moments, she was asleep.

Sometime during the night Camara woke suddenly.  Something had
disturbed her - a noise, maybe a slight shuffling, or perhaps she 
sensed a presence.  With long-learned skill, she went directly from 
sleep to fully alert without moving, changing her breathing, or even 
blinking.  Slowly she cracked open her eyes to survey the room.

Just beyond the foot of the bed stood a child, dirt covering her 
from head to toe, wearing little more than rags.  The girl was thin, 
almost emaciated, with large brown eyes, a small nose, and a wide, 
full-lipped mouth.  Her hair, where you could tell its natural 
colour from the dirt and grease, also looked to be a dark, rich 
shade of brown.  The intruder was watching M'Lady's eyes, and smiled 
when they opened.

Camara sat up, eying the small child carefully.  A knife, concealed 
under her pillow, was at hand, as always.  Moving gracefully, the 
dirty waif sat upon the end of the bed, pulling her knees up under 
her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs.  She smiled again.

"You do not recognize us."

As soon as she heard that voice, the tone used, the word 'us', 
it was as though she were transported back in time and across 
endless leagues to another dreamscape.  Her memory of that other 
night was once again vivid and clear.  It was also apparent to her 
that something was very strange.  Even though the room Camara fell 
asleep in faced north, and no sun or moon should ever have been 
visible from its window, the girl was softly illuminated by 
moonlight.  

"I think I do now."

"Yes, we see that.  You are not nervous?  Not afraid?"

"Why should I be?  I've remained true to myself, and to my vows.  
Should I feel fear or apprehension?"

The young girl laughed, a clear and sparkling sound washing through 
the room like a spring shower.  

"You do not fear us.  Nor should you.  We have watched you, and we 
are satisfied.  You have done well.  With the dispersal of that 
fallen avatar, you have saved one who is special to us, even though 
you knew it not.  To show our gratitude, we will grant you a boon.  
Choose your reward.  Choose it wisely.  Remember who you are, and 
remember who grants you this favour.  Think well on this, for 
rarely does a mortal earn such a gift." 

Camara's thoughts almost instantly turned to the lost portion of 
her payment, the part which could only have been given by 
Patteron.  New magic for her rings.

"Yes, that we could do easily.  But so could many mortals.  If you 
would be happy with such a small thing, we would do it."

Suddenly, other thoughts ran through her mind.  She was being 
granted a boon from a *GOD* ... *HER* god.  With trembling limbs and 
whirling, disjointed pieces of half-dreams tumbling through her 
head, she sank back against her pillows.  After several minutes and 
some deep breathing, she was again mostly calm.

"You can grant me anything I wish?"

"No.  Some things we will not do, and some things we cannot.  We 
see in your heart most of what you could ask for.  We cannot mend 
that which has been broken, so do not ask it of us.  We could 
remold what is left, but the result would not be what you remember."

"And the rest?"

"The longer gone, the more difficult, and the harder to recover 
all that is lost.  Going back to where your first thoughts flew, 
you could never be happy with the outcome.  Too much is gone, too 
much has changed."

Camara thought hard for a few moments, then spoke.  "I've made my 
choice."

"Interesting."  The young girl looked pensive for a moment, then   
smiled broadly.  "So be it.  You may get more than you asked for, 
or less.  Remember, some things have been lost, and others may be 
confused.  You must now live with your choice.  Sleep, Camara. 
Sleep.  And dream.  Dream.  Dream of us, and of another.  Another.
Sleep."

The child's voice faded into nothingness, as did the room and all it 
contained.  Only echoes of the god's last words remained for a 
time.

M'Lady's last feelings, before returning to her slumber, were of 
apprehension and fear.  Not of Escalia, but of what her choice 
would bring.  She shivered, though the bed was still warm.

----------

Once again Camara woke suddenly, this time very early in the 
morning.  There was a person in bed with her.  "How!?" was her 
immediate thought.  Then she remembered her dream.  A glance, a 
touch, a breath, was all that she needed to confirm the impossible.  
The young woman opened her eyes at that touch, and Camara saw 
emptiness in them.  It was as if nothing lived inside.  Slowly, as 
M'Lady watched, some slight intelligence, a tiny spark of life, 
appeared from nowhere and grew before her eyes.  Soon the eyes were 
almost as bright and full of promise as she remembered.  Almost.  

"I ... know you" the woman whispered.  Camara smiled, an inane 
thought running through her head.  The woman was naked, lying 
under the covers with M'Lady, and she was just exclaiming that she 
thought she knew who it was she was sleeping with.

"I remember you now.  I know you.  Lady ... M'Lady ... oh, I'm so 
confused.  I remember something, something incredible, but, it, 
it's slipping away now.  I can't hold it, such beauty slipping 
away, away from me ..."  The blonde woman began to cry, deep heart 
wrenching sobs of anguish for that which she no longer could 
remember, but knew she'd lost.  With practiced ease, Camara brought 
the woman into her arms and held her close.  The feel of her body, 
the scent of her hair, the sound of her voice, were all so familiar, 
so wonderfully fresh, M'Lady also began to weep.  All the promises 
she'd made to herself, all the discipline, all the resolve, melted 
away with that embrace.  They cried together for a time, before one, 
then the other, stopped.

"I remember you, Camara.  I remember your eyes.  I remember your 
lips.  I remember your smile and your touch.  I remember us."  The 
blonde leaned over and began to kiss M'Lady, gently and chastely 
at first, then with increasing passion.  All the heat and desire 
was returned tenfold, enflamed by the love Camara still held for 
the beautiful young maiden.

It was with groaning reluctance that Camara pulled away from that 
kiss, and out of their embrace.

"You don't ... care for me, anymore?"  The fear and the tears 
buried within her voice, as well as her words, nearly drove M'Lady 
to sobbing again.

"Always.  I will always hold you dear in my heart.  Closer than you 
can ever know.  No, there is another."

"You have another ... lover?"  That fear and confusion was still 
there.  It was with care Camara chose her next words.

"There have been others since ... us.  There has only been one for 
you, though.  You will know him again, soon.  I will send for him."
A look of, well, almost terror swept through the blonde woman's 
face at the thought of being alone.

"No, please, don't leave me!  I'm afraid!  I'm ..."

"Hush, hush.  I won't leave you.  I'll send someone else.  You wait 
here, and I'll be just over there by the door.  I won't even leave 
the room.  Okay?"

"I ... yes," she almost whispered.

M'Lady opened the door and spotted a young noble, a son of 
someone-or-other, doing his time in the castle.  She called to him, 
and the blush he had on his face when he turned told her he'd been 
up to something naughty.

"You.  Do you know of Sir William at all?"  After a brief stammer, 
then a head nod from the lad, she continued.  "Good.  Go and fetch 
him here.  Now.  It's a matter of utmost importance.  I need him, 
and no other."

"I ... But, he's a knight!  And a captain!  He'll have me whipped 
if I disturb him!  Especially when he's with ..."  The youth's 
voice trailed off, unsure of whether he'd revealed something he 
shouldn't have.

"Right now, I don't care if he's with Aphrodite herself.  Tell him 
that I, that Camara, needs him here *now*, and no excuses!  He'll 
listen.  If you have him back here in less than ten minutes, there's 
a gold piece in it for you."

The youngster's eyes lit up.  First, he was standing in front of 
the hero of the day, Lady Camara, and second, despite the fact that 
his family was considered rich, a gold piece was more ready cash 
than he personally saw during the course of a month.  The lad took 
off like an arrow.  Just within her time limit he was back, with Sir 
William in tow.  During that time, M'Lady had dressed and given her 
bedclothes to the other woman to wear.  She donned them, despite the 
nearly foot difference in their heights, simply because something 
was better than nothing.  Camara met the two in the hall.  

"William, tip the lad a gold piece."  Despite a rather questioning 
stare, he did so, and the son-of-whomever left quickly, before 
anyone changed their minds.  Sir William's dark and handsome face 
was lined with worry and apprehension, wondering what type of 
trouble he would be expected to deal with this time.  They were both 
out in the hall, with the door to her room closed.  M'Lady had 
convinced the other woman that this was necessary without explaining 
why it was so.

"Relax, Sir William.  There is no emergency, such as you are 
probably expecting.  No, this is something altogether different.  
There is someone in my room right now I want you to meet.  Someone 
you know.  She may or may not remember you at first.  Do not 
question anything, regardless of how you might wish to do so; simply 
accept that it is real.  And it is real.  Can you do this?"

"M'Lady, you have asked much of me in the past seasons, yet always I 
have gained from my trust and faith.  I will do as you ask.  Might 
I know the name of this person I am to meet?"

"Come inside.  You will know her name."

Once they stepped within the room, Sir William stopped dead.  The 
woman's face was fully illuminated by the lamps M'Lady had lit, and 
she was staring rather curiously, without recognition, at this 
large, imposing knight standing thunderstruck just inside the 
doorway.  

He spoke a name.  With that one word, the warrior, veteran of a 
dozen campaigns, a man who had stood unflinchingly against assassin 
and soldier, Amazon and harpy, a man who faced blood, gore, and 
death regularly with little trepidation, fainted. 

When he came to, he was lying in bed.  His armour, weapons, and 
boots had been stripped off.  Sitting on one side was Camara.  
Sitting on the other was ... the woman he had lost.  The love of his 
life.  Briana.  Returned from the dead.

"I ... I think I know you," she said.  One finger was tracing its 
way around his face, lightly touching him, following the curve of 
his jaw, the arch of his brow, the softness of his lips, feeling 
the stiff bristles of his beard and moustache.  "You called me 
Briana.  Is that who I am?"

Sir William sent a wondrous and questioning glance at M'Lady, who 
simply nodded, letting him know that, impossible as it seemed, 
strange as things were, it was real.  He closed his eyes for a 
second, took a deep breath, and visibly relaxed.

"Yes, Briana is who I know you as.  Do you not know me?"

"You are ... familiar.  I know your face, and your voice.  My hand 
knows you as well, as though it has traced these features many 
times before.  Somehow, I am, well, comfortable with you.  Though 
my thoughts tell me I should be afraid of having such an imposing  
fighter in bed with me."  A half-smile formed on her face with those 
words.  A full smile broke across his.  He reached up to touch her 
face as well, but stopped when she pulled back slightly, startled by 
his movement.  When she saw him hold up, and realized he meant no 
harm, she moved forward again, allowing his fingers to touch, to 
caress, bringing to him the reality of what his eyes saw.  A look of 
absolute wonder overtook him at the first contact.

"Yes, I think I know you.  Your touch is familiar as well.  It ...
there is so much confusion in my mind.  But I remember you as ...
a friend?  I don't know.  Someone I trust, someone safe, that much 
I recall.  Is that right?"

"Briana, always I will be your friend.  When you remember more, 
I will say that which I hold in my heart."  Tears ran down his 
cheeks, tears which Briana stroked away with her fingers.

Camara got up to leave at that point.  Sir William started to say 
something, but she cut him off with a gesture.  

"Talk with me about this tomorrow.  Or the next day.  I'm not sure 
when I'll be sober again.  Just accept, for now.  Good day, Sir 
William.  Good day, Briana.  We will speak again, later, about 
what was."  With that, she left them, giving them the privacy and 
time they needed to find one another again.  

With a pained heart and tears in her eyes she went to search out the 
castle's taproom.  The tiredness of her body and ache of her bruises 
and wounds were nothing compared to the heaviness in her chest.  The 
pain of an unrequited love could only be dulled by time, or by a 
heavy dose of spirits.  To have Briana back after suffering her 
loss, and then having to give her up to another again, was doubly 
hurtful.  For a few moments, when she first saw her old lover, and 
learned of her confusion and her desire, M'Lady thought of keeping 
the woman all to herself, of fleeing with her, or maybe making love 
with her once more.  Deep inside, though, she knew she could not 
perform such a deed.  Hence, her search for surcease.

Even that early in the morning, the castle's kitchens were busy.  
Cooks and sculleries, helpers, and the odd servant made for a 
crowded and noisy atmosphere.  M'Lady was hard pressed to stop one 
long enough to get directions to the taproom.

As one servant girl passed, Camara heard the words "We approve," 
pitched so none but she could hear.  Turning, she could not see who 
had actually spoken.  After a few seconds of staring, M'Lady was 
ready to dismiss it as her imagination, a result of the surprise and 
shock she was experiencing.  Only, just as she was convincing 
herself that it never truly happened, someone said the words 
"Remember hope" in her ear, from behind.  Spinning quickly, she saw 
several servants who could have been close enough to say something.  
None were paying any attention to her, other than the usual curious 
glances, and none looked at all familiar.

For some reason, she changed her mind about the taproom.  Instead, 
her feet took her from the castle.  All that day she walked the 
streets of Saldar City, stopping at an inn for breakfast, picking 
up tidbits in a marketplace for lunch, and going back to the castle 
only when it was time for dinner.  All the while, she simply watched 
the people and absorbed their energy, their laughter, and the life 
apparent in them all.  It was a minor catharsis for her, a way of 
letting go the pain, of trying to allow the joy of others to fill 
the void that had formed deep inside.

When she returned, Sir William and Briana were still sitting in 
M'Lady's room, talking quietly.  They both smiled at her when she 
entered.  Showing a grin she didn't feel, she gave them both a 
hello, then turned and left.  A servant found her and asked her to 
go to the dining hall.

When she arrived, the place was in an uproar.  Apparently, her 
disappearance had caused quite a stir.  News of Briana's return 
was being kept secret, at least for the time being.  Only those 
present in that room knew.  They included Lord Verran, who was 
beside himself with both worry and curiosity, the two handmaidens, 
who had inadvertently walked in on the lovers (they were upset with 
her for not telling them she was going out), and King Merovance 
himself, who was very much concerned for her safety.  

Lady Camara's explanations lasted well into the night.


<End of chapter 8>

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