Immortal Ch 01

Suffolk, England Winter, 1486

The dawn was rising red over land, covering the vast farm land in a rosy hue. The fields had been covered early this year with a frost that killed any remaining crops and all that was left now was barren landscape, just miles of dirt that was waiting for spring to be tended to. One person was out this cold morning, a man who was diligently working to strap his packs and gear onto his gray and white spotted horse. Dressed in thick leather breeches and a brown tunic, he seemed to ignore the cold, sweating slightly as he packed down his steed.

He stopped to catch his breath, looking around at the small, two story farm house and the fields that surrounded it. Those fields that he had seen men die just trying to bring in a crop to keep the Duke happy. In the distance, he could see the plume of smoke rising into the sky, the smell of burning pine filling the air. The manor house was at the end of the dirt path, a huge red brick building where the Duke ran his lands in luxury while his peasants toiled in the fields.

The horse nickered softly, blowing out his breath in a fog as he shook his black mane, impatiently waiting to start his long journey. The man just laughed, his face crinkling in a smile as he patted the horse’s neck and bent down to pick up more of his belongings.

Richard Hudson had no future as far as he could see. He wasn’t tied to the land as many of the peasants in the area were, yet he still swore his loyalty to the powerful Duke that held the lands. His father had been a farmer on the lands, a lowly serf in the eyes of society. Richard had always detested the position, watching as his father worked himself to death for a man who could care less whether he died or not; only if the crops were brought in on time and they were plentiful. No, Richard had chosen the life of a soldier, living in the duke’s household and doing menial tasks as he waited for the one day when that training would come into play. That day had finally come for him and he felt almost giddy that he was finally going to see battle.

It was like his profession and his personality were complete opposites. He was a trained killer, yet he didn’t have a violent bone in his body. Richard was more likely to make someone laugh than to take their life, but he just figured that it was the way his life unfolded and there was nothing that he could do to mess with God’s plan.

“D’you really have to go?” A small, airy voice came from behind him.

Turning around, Richard saw Elizabeth walking from her small house carrying a bundle in her arms. She shivered slightly in the cold air, her shoes crunching over the frost covered ground as she approached the horse. He smiled and reached out his arms to her. This was his one draw back to leaving; his Elizabeth. She stepped into his hug, resting her head against his chest. Richard sighed and rested his chin on the top of her blonde head, wrapping his arms tight around her.

Elizabeth Fourier was a vision to behold, the look of a princess although she was nothing but a farmer’s daughter. Blonde hair the color of gold that came to her waist and eyes the blue green color of the North Sea in summer. She was tall and slender, almost too fragile for the strenuous work of a farm, but Elizabeth never had trouble keeping up with the demanding pace. In the gown of dark blue, she looked like an ice queen who had just risen from the snow to greet Richard.

“You know I have to leave, Beth.” Richard said, releasing her from the hug and taking the bundle from her arms. He watched as her eyes grew misty and her smile turned sad. “I’ll be back though. I promise.”

Elizabeth looked at Richard for a long time as he loaded the horse down, taking in every detail of his body. His short brown hair, the color of nutmeg, and those brown eyes that always held joy and laughter, no matter what.

They had grown up together, Richard helping her father out with the harvests a few autumns while her brother was ill. She could remember a time when he and a boy from the village had chased her through the woods, trapping her in a huge oak tree that she stayed in for the night, afraid of what they would do with her if she came down. He came back the next morning, surprised to see her still frightened and hidden away in the branches. He had been sweet to her after that, her best friend in fact. It was then that they had gotten to know each other, courting carefully under her mother’s watchful eye.

Although her mother knew that her daughter’s beauty could make a better match for herself than a lowly peasant, she also knew that it was rare to find true love that strong. They had been betrothed since summer, Elizabeth putting off the wedding when the threat of civil war became all too real in the country. Now, the love of her life was leaving to fight in a war that had nothing to do with him or her and Elizabeth couldn’t control her tears any longer.

Richard strapped the last of his belongings to the horse and turned back to Elizabeth. She was looking at the ground, her arms wrapped tightly in her cloak as she tried to keep the chill away; her eyes full of tears. He slowly stepped forward, gripping her shoulders as he drew her closer. A single tear slide down her cheek as she sighed, her body shaking with a sob that threatened to burst forth.

“Don’t cry, Beth.” Richard soothed, brushing away her tear with his hand. “The first thing after this war is over, I swear that I’ll be back and we’re going to have that wedding.”

“You best keep that promise.” She sobbed, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tight.

“I will.” He said, smoothing out her hair as she cried into his tunic. He smiled at her as he gently pulled her away, kissing her forehead. “Just watch that horizon.” He said as he walked over to the horse and mounted him in one easy motion.

“Everyday.” Elizabeth whispered, watching as he moved the horse onto the dirt path that led across the fields.

“That’s my girl.” He said with a smile, pulling on his cloak as he kicked the horse into a gallop. “Goodbye, Beth.” He shouted over his shoulder as he started off.

Elizabeth just smiled, refusing to say goodbye as she watched Richard and the steed start across the fields. Just before they were out of sight, Richard turned the horse and waved at her, blowing her a kiss. She just waved back, forcing a smile onto her face for his sake, watching the horizon intently as he disappeared from sight. She stood there by the fence that surrounded her house to pen in the animals, all morning, just watching the fields. She watched as the skies darkened and the snow began to fall gently, covering everything in a layer of white.

It was mid afternoon when her brother finally came to get her, and he practically had to drag her back into the house. Her mother tried to talk to her, telling Elizabeth that everything would work out in the end, all the while coughing as she did her chores. It was a cough that worried Elizabeth, but she said nothing, just taking up a seat next to the window, watching as the world sat silently with her only love running across the fields towards a fate that only God knew.

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

Suffolk Winter, 1487

Elizabeth brushed a clump of damp hair from her forehead as she stirred the giant pot over the fire. The sound of a wracking cough behind her made the skin on her back crawl. She looked over her shoulder at her father, doubled over as the pain in his chest took over, a fit of coughing wracking his sickly body. Elizabeth took a deep breath and stopped stirring long enough to push her sleeves up and then returned back to her task, as if everything were normal.

The past year had been hard on her family, her painfully thin frame would attest to that. First, the winter had been hard, one of the harshest anyone had seen and food was scarce. Elizabeth’s mother had fallen ill near the Christmas celebrations, just after Richard left, and died shortly after the new year began of that dreadful cough. Her brother, Henry, soon followed, felled by a fall from his horse while he plowed the fields in the spring. Shorthanded, Elizabeth’s father pained himself when he was forced to make her work with him in the fields, just to bring in the crops on time.

There were times when she would pray at the local church that God would provide, but nothing would make the crops grow. She could still remember the morning when her father hooked up their mule and drug the almost empty wagon to the manor house, returning late in the evening with a forlorn look on his face. Not only had the Duke been less than pleased with the family, but her father had caught a chill that he just couldn’t seem to shake. Now, her father was ill with a cough, the man frail from the cold and Elizabeth knew that he was close to death.

The worst was that there had been no news from Richard for nearly ten months. At Christmas, Elizabeth had received a letter, carried over the hills by one of the Duke’s messengers who was on the way to the manor house. Inside was a blue silk ribbon, her favorite color and a precious gift from him. With is was a letter promising that he would write soon and that he was fine, the fighting not fierce at all. There were no more letters after that and Elizabeth had heard rumors early in the week as she visited the small village on the edge of the fields that other soldiers had begun returning.

“Elizabeth?” Her father asked in his raspy voice, his breathing slowly returning to normal as the coughing fit subsided.

“Yes, Papa?” Elizabeth asked, turning from the fire and wiping away the tears that she hadn’t noticed falling down her face, sniffling slightly as she looked at her father.

“There’s a man coming over the hills.” The older man stated, looking out the frost covered window at the sunset.

Elizabeth was quick to the window, peering out across the fields. She used part of her sleeve to wipe away some frost and squinted in the light to look over the hills. There was a dark figure in the dying light, his horse moving slowly over the icy path. Small snow flakes had begun to fall in the chilly air, dusting the barren fields in white. Her heart leapt as she bounded for the door, barely stopping to grab her cloak. She carefully made her way to the edge of their yards, waiting by the fences as the man drew closer. Elizabeth couldn’t contain her hope that Richard had finally returned to her. She reached up and pulled the silk ribbon tight in her hair, straightening out her dress as the man drew closer. Her smile slowly faded as she noticed that man wasn’t Richard.

“Hello there!” The man shouted, his voice deep and warm with an aristocratic accent. “Might I ask where the manor house is?” He asked, bringing his stallion to a stop as he neared her.

“Aye, you just keep following the path, sir.” Elizabeth said, her voice trembling with disappointment, as her shoulders slumped and her heart sank.

“Thank you, milady.” He stated but he didn’t move on, just sat there staring at her.

“You’re welcome, sir.” Elizabeth whispered as she turned to walk back to the house.

“Wait.” The man shouted, causing her to stop and turn. “What’s your name?”

“Elizabeth. Elizabeth Fourier, although I don’t know why you’d want to know a simple farm girl’s name.”

The man laughed a deep laugh, his dark eyes lighting up. “And why shouldn’t I want to know that name of a princess?”

Elizabeth blushed, drawing her cloak tight around her ratty, gray dress, suddenly uncomfortable under the man’s gaze. He had dark eyes, almost the color of coal and hair that matched, cut closely to his head that certainly wasn‘t the style at court. He was wearing expensive clothing, probably worth more than all of Elizabeth’s possessions combined. His skin was white like marble, smooth and unblemished with teeth that slightly stuck out over his blood red lips. He was very handsome, Elizabeth had to admit, but something about him struck her as odd. Just from the way he was sitting on the horse, she could tell that he had a very commanding personality, so unlike Richard and his laid back ways.

“You best be on your way, sir. These roads get bad after the sun goes down.” Elizabeth answer simply as she turned to go back into her house.

“Stay and talk with me, princess.”

Elizabeth spun around and glared at the man. “My name is Elizabeth.” She spat out, her eyes flashing to dark blue as her anger slowly rose.

“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.” He said, emphasizing her name with a hint of sarcasm. “Tell me, caught the eye of lad yet?”

“Sir, that is inappropriate to ask a lady. And for your information, I’m betrothed to a wonderful man. Now, if you would please leave my land.” Elizabeth stated as she threw her hand out for her cloak, pointing down the dirt trail towards the rising smoke of the manor house, her anger rising at the strangers questions and aloofness.

“Fine, princess. I’ll leave but I’ll be back.” He said with a laugh, spurring his horse on as the sun set completely and the lands were covered in darkness.

Elizabeth watched as he marched down the path with purpose and finally disappeared over the hills. She thought it strange that he would talk to her like that, and it made her want Richard back all the more. She was shaken out of her self pity by another jarring cough from inside the house. Elizabeth slipped off her cloak and hung it on the peg just inside the door, sneaking a glance at her father as he stared out the window.

“Who was that man?” He asked, coughing harder into a cloth.

“Some man looking for the manor.” Elizabeth stated, freezing as she saw the tell tale red flecks on the cloth. Please, Lord, spare him, she prayed silently as she slowly made her way back to the fire.

Her father looked so frail and tired and for the first time in her life Elizabeth was scared of the future. Without Richard or anyone else here to work the lands, she couldn’t stay yet there was nowhere for her to go. Elizabeth shook her head, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind as she turned her attentions back to the food. Softly, she started singing a song that she had heard in the market. Her father sighed, closing his eyes as he heard the melody.

“You sing just like your mother.” He commented.

Elizabeth just smiled and continued singing, tears flowing down her cheeks again at the compliment. “Thank you, Papa.” She whispered as he began to hum softly behind her.

Her voice was legendary, hauntingly beautiful and the envy of the other girls in the area. It was pitch perfect and clear, high and breathy, suitable for a girl as fragile as Elizabeth. Richard had always loved to hear her sing and they would spend many hours under the large oak trees in the fields just laying there as she sang, wrapped tightly in each other‘s arms as they watched the sun set over the fields.

Dishing out the thick porridge and helping her father to the table, Elizabeth found herself thinking about that mysterious man who had talked to her just moments before. It suddenly struck her that he had never mentioned his name. What does it matter, she thought, he’s a higher class and doesn’t have to answer to me. Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes, watching her so intently as if he were looking at her very soul.

Not touching her food, Elizabeth sat silently as her father ate, thinking about everything. Slowly, she looked over to the window and wondered if that man would really be back as he had promised.

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

Lothian Moray, known as Lothie to his very few friends, rode into the courtyard of the manor house just after sunset, his mind still filled with images of the girl he had met on the road. Of course, he hadn’t really needed directions, having been to the manor many times before, he just wanted to stop and talk with the woman who was waiting so intently at the fence as he came down the trail.

Something about her made her image stick in his mind. Maybe it was the way she refused to back down when he talked to her like most girls did when a man of station approached them, or maybe it was the barely controlled disappointment and anger that burned beneath her skin that made his senses run wild. What saddened him the most was that he could smell the sickness on her, something that he had smelt many times before. A girl that young and beautiful didn’t deserve to die that way.

Dismounting, he casually tossed the reigns to the stable boy as he turned on his heels and started inside the huge stone building, his black cloak swirling around him. No more than a few steps into the great hall, he heard the Duke’s booming voice echo over the stone walls as he laughed with a few of his men. Lothie stood in the shadows for a moment, watching the scene before him as he took comfort in the darkness.

Darkness had been his companion for almost three hundred years now, hiding him from the hated sun that threatened to destroy his existence. Lothie had been the monster, and yes, monster was the term he described himself as, that these people saw before them ever since he fell ill with the coughing sickness those many years ago.

He was twenty years old, a musician who wanted nothing more than fame and fortune. He happened to catch the eye of a mysterious duchess who took him in when he fell ill. She nursed him through his worst nights, a hint of sadness in her eyes as she watched the young man fade away. One night, she revealed her secret, hoping that he would accept her offer of immortality in exchange for companionship. Being a vain youth, he jumped at the chance to beat death, but it was only a few weeks after that fateful night that he became disenchanted with his vampire existence.

He left the company of the duchess about two months later, seeking out his own life once again. He had been incredibly saddened to learn that she had died a few days after her left, killed by an unknown being. Many thought she had crossed paths with Xander, the powerful vampire lord as he was known around the continent, locking her outside her small manor as the sun rose over the horizon. A horrible way to die, he knew, but it had to be better than living this life, he thought at the time.

He, himself, had run into Xander a few times over the past centuries, but instead of fear, Lothie had come to respect the man. In many way, they were alike, almost like two brothers that had been born far apart in time. But where Lothie was calm and collected, stoic at all times, Xander had a fiery temper that would rear its ugly head any time he was challenged.

Another round of laughing brought Lothie back to the present, his eyes once again focused on the arrogant Duke as he boasted about a beauty he had living on his lands. It was then that he realized he was talking about the woman he had seen, Elizabeth. The Duke stated to the intrigued men that come spring, he would force them off the land, leaving the family with nothing, only to offer her a chance at marriage, since he knew her betrothed wouldn‘t be coming back. The very thought enraged Lothie beyond all belief, his hands curling into tight fists as he thought of the proud woman. No one would lay a hand on her if he had his way.

“It would be a wonder if someone could get him to shut his mouth.” Came a whisper in his ear, the light Scottish accent making Lothie smile. “He’s been talking about that woman all night.”

Turning slightly, he found himself staring into familiar green eyes. Gabriella stood there in one of her yellow silk gowns, watching the events of the castle take place from the shadows. With one hand, she played with a jeweled necklace that dipped down low on her cleavage, almost getting lost between the twin swells. Her unruly auburn hair was hidden under a cap done in the French style that she preferred to the current styles from court.