Morning all and happy Monday. I hope everyone had a fantastic weekend. I spent mine dealing with a boat load of garlic. We planted it last fall and now it was finally time to harvest. Even after a long soak in the tub my hands still smell like garlic. Which I don’t mind actually. The fresh garlic is kind of sweet and grassy smelling. I’m sure it will fade with time. But for now, we move on to the morning writing prompt. Fifteen minutes on the timer please and off we go.
I kind of like this. Not sure where it is going but I wouldn’t mind setting up anther fifteen minutes just to see where it goes.
Monday, June 3rd: The cloth was brightly colored.
The cloth was brightly colored. It fluttered in the breeze, a splash of crimson stuck on a black winter bare branch. As he rode under neath the tree, he reached out and grabbed it. The limb was slightly lower than shoulder height for him and the scrap of cloth barely larger than his thumb. Yet with it between his fingers he could tell it was the highest quality cloth.
This morsel was not snatched from the garb of a merchant. He lifted the cloth to his nose and inhaled deeply. He could still catch a trace of the incense that perfumed the halls of the palace clinging to the scrap.
The princess had been through here. He was on the right track. He tucked the scrap in his belt pouch, confirmation to himself if no one else that he was on the right path. He wa certain someone was monitoring his search, but who that would be and if they would hinder or help, he couldn’t say. He could feel the prickles on the back of his neck letting him know that someone somewhere was using magic to follow his path.
Devan was enough of a sensitive to know that, even if he lacked the skills to determine anything further. For good or ill he was on his own in the hunt for the princess. While it limited his resources, it also meant there was little talk. He was told to keep his search quiet so there was no need to mention it to anyone he passed. With no companions, there was no group speculation or discussion.
‘Whoever is watching will have to determine my thoughts from my actions.’
It wasn’t much but it was something. He rode forward. There was precious little to go on. The king was certain that those who kidnapped the princess were from the kingdom of Geran in the north. He cited a litany of reasons. While al of the kings reasons seemed like issues with the Geran, Devan wasn’t entirely certain how kidnapping a princess would fit in with any of those concerns. What he did get was the fact that the King did not like the Geran and wanted an excuse to go to war with them. The king had he eye on the port city of Fera just over the border.
Devan wondered if the king would wait for him to bring back proof of their involvement before declaring war. The queen was more broad minded as to who might be attacking her family and when asked gave him a dozen targets that she thought viable. They were little more than speculation based on past slights and held the same amount of usefulness that the king’s declarations had.
Devan had been following the trail for three days now and had seen nothing to definitively point to any culprit. That someone had taken the princess was not in doubt. She was seen to be abducted and she was seen to fight back. Devan inspected the damage from the abduction to determine if the princess herself had created a cover for her own runaway intents. Every sign pointed to the abduction being real.
He just couldn’t figure out who was behind it.
‘And now there is a watcher,’ Devan thought. Again the back of his neck prickled. He tried not to show he felt the watching of others. To give no indication of his sensitivity. That magic was in any way involved did not comfort him.
Ten til Midnight 