The Escape
Quickly and stealthily, a crouching figure made way towards the well-lit tent of the Lady Maeriouhau. He bit his lip, stifling any nervous betrayal that his body might give, and advanced towards the three soldiers standing in front of her tent.
“Good night my sirs! I need...” he stuttered, “I must speak to Laeulayei Maeriouhau. It is a matter of the utmost importance.”
“What business do you have with her, and who are you to request the Lady’s presence?” asked the central soldier, squinting at the unexpected visitor.
“I am Maerada, Representative of the Faeoria Sirofaia, and I bring word of a plot against her life. I must speak to her immediately.”
The central guard, apparently the highest ranking, looked at the other two.
“Bring him in.”
Surrounded by the two soldiers, Maerada entered the tent. The inside of the tent was dull red and purple, flickering in the candlelight. Embroidered patterns and Maeriouhau symbols were barely visible in the shadows. Laeulayei reclined in the back of the structure, surrounded by the representatives of other northern Faeoria and several Faerouhaiaouans. She noticed her new guest, and spoke.
“What is it?”
“Lady Maeriouhau, I am Maerada Sirofaia, and I bear the most severe of news. Word has spread of a perceived ‘betrayal’ by your Faeoria- I do not have much time to explain, but there is suddenly a vast group of the southern Faeoria who believe that you formed some sort of pact with the Satar to have the north spared, as part of a plot to establish uncontested rule over Faron.”
“What!?”
“I could not believe such a thing, but many others do, and they are coming here with great haste. You must escape this place immediately!”
A silence engulfed the tent.
“From where came rumour of this horrific and untrue plot? The Maeriouhau would be among the last of the Faeoria to turn against our own country!”
“From the overactive minds of the paranoid, no doubt- but regardless of the truth, Milady, you must leave immediately.”
I would not abandon a meeting as critical as this- the Maeriouhau must stand as a role model for all Faeoria. I will speak to those concerned-“
“You cannot reason with a mob! Your death will not serve any purpose if it occurs here and now!”
Another silence befell the tent. Laeulayei heard, or perhaps imagined, a distant rumble of voices.
“This group is not here to negotiate. You must escape, and let this threat of violence subside before anything else can be done.”
Laeulayei was completely still for a moment. Soon, she spoke aloud.
“If I stay here, I will either calm the masses or... perhaps die. If I leave, the situation may calm as you say, or it may spill over into chaos.”
“If you die, Milady, there will be war between your Faeoria and your murderers.”
Laeulayei rose to her feet, eyes wide open, burning rapidly through a difficult series of thoughts.
“You are right. We must leave immediately.”
“Escape by horse and wagon- once you are out of the reach of this mob, you should be safe.”
“And you, Maerada Sirofaia?”
“I will remain here, and attempt to calm this mob- should I die, it would not be such a harsh a blow as the one which would be dealt to our country were you to fall.”
Laeulayei gave a pained expression.
“Haiaou shine upon you, brave Sirofaia. Haiaou shine upon us all.”
“It is yet night, Milady. Ride until it the light returns.”
She nodded, as the group burst into a rush of activity. Maerada lost sight of the woman as she exited the tent, surrounded by the two guards who had escorted him in just a few moments earlier. He was the last out of the tent, exiting just as someont began to take down the entire structure. A rumble of hooves announced made it clear that, whatever else would happen, the lady Maeriouhau was temporarily safe.
Maerada breathed deeply in the night air, and faced back in the direction he had came.
The rumble of voices drew near.
*****
Many days travel away, in the captured city of Magha, Raenacu Aramsayafa bowed deeply to his Moti comrade-in-arms. Both men had fought together for years, in the great battles against the Satar, and it was now that their long partnership was finally coming to an end.
“O Third-Gaci, Chief of all Chiefs and Upholder of the Crimson Elephant, I humbly request your leave, to return to my homeland. Word has reached me just this day, confirming my worst fears- the armies of the Satar have fought, and continue to fight in my homeland. The armies of the east are forever broken, but I fear that those of the west have not yet finished their fight. I am duty bound, as a defender of Faron and the Faeoria Aramsayafa, to return immediately.”
The Moti man, regal and imposing even in his advancing age, looked at the Faronun general silently for several moments.
“You have served us well, fighting from the Kotthorns to the very beating heart of the Satar. You are free to go, and to return to the Moti lands for which your men have sacrificed their blood. Defend your homeland. Perhaps, someday those of my lineage shall come and see the lands of which you speak so reverently.”
“My people would always welcome you, O Chief of Chiefs. My men and I will begin our return homewards.
“May your travels be swift, and your victories absolute.”
“May the sun forever shine upon the mountains and fields of the Moti. Farewell.”