Rashieka's Path
by K.B. Wagers
genre:
Science Fiction & Fantasy
description:
Story from the Chronicles of the White Rose Knights series.
Rashieka has never wanted anything more than to join the Order of the White Rose, an elite group of knights swore to uphold honor and justice throughout the known lands. They owe no country allegiance and will answer any call for help.
Unfortunately her life has never been about what she wanted, and Rashieka finds resistance to her application both expected and unexpected. Despite all her hard work, she may find the obstacles insurmountable.
chapters
chapter 1:
Chapter One
Chapter One
chapter 1
—
updated 08/21/07
—
3555 characters
—
0 people liked it
This was, Rashieka concluded, either the bravest thing she'd ever done – or the dumbest.
"Creator, help me," she whispered the prayer so the knights posted at the doors to the Great Hall couldn't hear her. She felt so very small standing here. Even the hallway outside was massive, with arching ceilings that lost themselves to the shadows. Everywhere she looked, tapestries hung depicting glorious battles and knights in shining armor.
Rashieka swallowed. "Please let me be worthy of this."
"Are you ready, my girl?" Herman Hexman's large hand covered her shoulder, but if the innkeeper had noticed her start of surprise he didn't comment on it. "The last one just started his request."
She nodded, scooped a hand through her dark brown curls and blew out the breath stuck in her lungs. "I am."
"Well let's be about it then." He helped her sling her sword over her shoulder, the plain leather baldric at odds with the fine silk of her blue dress. "You can draw it that way?"
"I've practiced."
Herman hooked her arm around his elbow, patted her hand with a fatherly smile and lead her to the doors.
"What's this?"
"There's one more applicant for the Order tonight."
The two young knights at the door stared at them in surprise. Rashieka stared back, her heart thumping a wild beat in her chest.
"She can't-"
"Don't see why not." The darker haired of the pair interrupted his brother as he stepped to the side. "My lady."
She dipped a curtsy and dared a grin when he winked at her as they passed. Test one, she thought as she walked through the doors into the Great Hall.
The sight quite simply stole her breath away, and had Herman not been at her side Rashieka would have stood and stared.
Row upon row of stone benches stretched up toward the ceiling on either side. The cavernous hall still retained some of the original look of the mountain it had been carved from – gray sharp-edged stones jutted from the walls.
On the far wall, hanging behind the dais where the council members sat was a tapestry of the Order's shield. The simple device a stunning white rose in full bloom upon a field of deepest blue.
Rashieka dragged in a breath and willed her legs to stop trembling. "Keep moving forward, even if you have to crawl," she whispered her clan motto and the familiar words helped steady her.
The reverend silence of the hall in the headquarters of the Order of the White Rose Knights disappeared in a wave that followed the golden-skinned young woman up the aisle.
"I'll be damned." Candidate Spiri Tusa bit back his laughter.
"Is that the woman from the Blue Pot?" the slim Pachoyan at his side whispered.
"It's her, Mikhail." The massive man couldn't stop the grin that spread over his face. His earlier conversation with the pretty Kamardi now made sense to him.
Further up in the rows, another candidate's eyes bugged from his skull. "That's not-" he broke off his exclamation with a grimace.
"Do not embarrass me with some unseemly outburst, Richard," Thane Ryianne hissed in his cousin's ear, his hand locked just behind the man's elbow. "It is not our place to judge."
"She's a woman," someone behind him protested, his voice thick with contempt.
"I can see that." Thane released his grip. "The council will handle it. You'll keep our mouths shut. We are candidates, gentlemen and our opinions have not been asked for." His words carried with them the weight of an imperial decree and no one thought to argue with the youngest son of the Emperor of Illyria.
back to top
"Creator, help me," she whispered the prayer so the knights posted at the doors to the Great Hall couldn't hear her. She felt so very small standing here. Even the hallway outside was massive, with arching ceilings that lost themselves to the shadows. Everywhere she looked, tapestries hung depicting glorious battles and knights in shining armor.
Rashieka swallowed. "Please let me be worthy of this."
"Are you ready, my girl?" Herman Hexman's large hand covered her shoulder, but if the innkeeper had noticed her start of surprise he didn't comment on it. "The last one just started his request."
She nodded, scooped a hand through her dark brown curls and blew out the breath stuck in her lungs. "I am."
"Well let's be about it then." He helped her sling her sword over her shoulder, the plain leather baldric at odds with the fine silk of her blue dress. "You can draw it that way?"
"I've practiced."
Herman hooked her arm around his elbow, patted her hand with a fatherly smile and lead her to the doors.
"What's this?"
"There's one more applicant for the Order tonight."
The two young knights at the door stared at them in surprise. Rashieka stared back, her heart thumping a wild beat in her chest.
"She can't-"
"Don't see why not." The darker haired of the pair interrupted his brother as he stepped to the side. "My lady."
She dipped a curtsy and dared a grin when he winked at her as they passed. Test one, she thought as she walked through the doors into the Great Hall.
The sight quite simply stole her breath away, and had Herman not been at her side Rashieka would have stood and stared.
Row upon row of stone benches stretched up toward the ceiling on either side. The cavernous hall still retained some of the original look of the mountain it had been carved from – gray sharp-edged stones jutted from the walls.
On the far wall, hanging behind the dais where the council members sat was a tapestry of the Order's shield. The simple device a stunning white rose in full bloom upon a field of deepest blue.
Rashieka dragged in a breath and willed her legs to stop trembling. "Keep moving forward, even if you have to crawl," she whispered her clan motto and the familiar words helped steady her.
The reverend silence of the hall in the headquarters of the Order of the White Rose Knights disappeared in a wave that followed the golden-skinned young woman up the aisle.
"I'll be damned." Candidate Spiri Tusa bit back his laughter.
"Is that the woman from the Blue Pot?" the slim Pachoyan at his side whispered.
"It's her, Mikhail." The massive man couldn't stop the grin that spread over his face. His earlier conversation with the pretty Kamardi now made sense to him.
Further up in the rows, another candidate's eyes bugged from his skull. "That's not-" he broke off his exclamation with a grimace.
"Do not embarrass me with some unseemly outburst, Richard," Thane Ryianne hissed in his cousin's ear, his hand locked just behind the man's elbow. "It is not our place to judge."
"She's a woman," someone behind him protested, his voice thick with contempt.
"I can see that." Thane released his grip. "The council will handle it. You'll keep our mouths shut. We are candidates, gentlemen and our opinions have not been asked for." His words carried with them the weight of an imperial decree and no one thought to argue with the youngest son of the Emperor of Illyria.
Did you like this?
vote
