17. Red
Strawberry red, the fresh blush following the pale yellow and unripe green swam across Angelica's vision. Swirling speckles of yellow and gold danced in patterns too elusive to name, the warmth of the bright sunshine drawing her face irresistibly with eyes cautiously fixed shut.
She drank in the warmth, willing it to linger, relaxing under its call. Angelica allowed her imagination to wander. Whispy pink spray danced above the azure and light blue sea, pink sky above devoid of clouds. Far above a magnificent raven wheeled, its cry imploring her to fly. She spread her wings wide, the ache in her shoulders from stiff misuse replaced by order as she gathered then pounced up. Strong sweep down, wingtips brushing the water-not-water, ponderous at first blending into graceful rhythm as she gained speed.
The raven dived, its wings arrowed back as it plummeted. Angelica spun with her wings close to her body, then threw them forward to stall over on her left wingtip, peals of delight roaring out as she joined the game. The raven laughed and teased her about being so slow, its trail of silver ripples doubled by her own, the sky alive with intricate patterns dissipating slowly. They dived low, skimming above the gentle waves, banking to avoid the shimmering spheres travelling she knew not where or why, splashed of light as thistle seeds on a summer's breeze.
"Are you meant to be here?" the raven called as it danced ahead of her triumphantly.
"Are you meant to be?" Angelica replied without hesitation.
"Are you?" the raven replied, laughing.
"It's my dream, of course I am meant to be here!" she replied defiantly.
"Imp. Tag, you are it!" the raven shot past her climbing effortlessly. She shifted her feet down and began to pull hard, straight up into the heavens to find the laughing speck of bird.
The colours dimmed, falling to green and blacks, the negative image of delight lingering on the inside of her eyelids.
As rapidly as it had appeared, the golden shaft of sunlight between the clouds had been stolen away, ruddy grey once again commanding the world. Yet the fleeting touch lingered; smiles, bright flurries of conversation in place of sullen utterances.
Angelica willed the clouds to part again, hoping to once more have the warmth splash over her skin, perhaps with a chance to continue the pleasantly impossible dream. But as intently as she and others searched the sky above, the clouds would have none of it and sealed their iron claim upon the day.
"You really must eat, M'Lady" Alexandras insisted politely after she had spent quite enough time staring at nothing. The guard offered a battle biscuit, neatly placed upon a cloth in his palm.
"Enough to survive on, but a better reason to win to get home for actual food." her brother had said scornfully of the aptly named ration "If the Qin had wanted us to survive on something that tastes like bark, they would have made us Kypiq" he had complained. They had nothing to complain of she recalled, a half smile at the memory. Caterham's saddlebags had been heavy with six different types of cheese each wrapped in muslin cloth, watered wine, fresh sweetbreads, and fresh grapes. Mother had seen to it that there was even a picnic blanket tied behind, though the Court laundry had gone rather to excess by pressing it smooth, rolling it, and wrapping it in an oilcloth to keep it clean and dry despite the perfection of that day.
No, even now I have naught to complain of. I live to eat bark, the dead eat only ash.
Wait, if only the dead ate only ash. She shivered, blaming it on the cool wind.
She took the biscuit with thanks, but to Alexandras' chagrin snapped it in half and returned the larger portion to him with "you need to eat too."
His eyes spoke to the contrary as he followed protocol and replied "My thanks, M'Lady", snapping off a corner of the ration and popping it into his mouth to begin chewing it. However he did not turn away, his silent insistence unmistakable.
It was not all that bad, really. While it did not pay to dwell on what might be the ingredients in this particular bar, the makers always used copious spices and herbs to banish any need to know too much.
A shiver raced down her spine, a wince and a cough as she sputtered "pepper!" then past a hoarse laugh "I think there might not be anything other than that and salted chilli in this one?" She coughed for real, eyes pressed close to stop them streaming. "I think they forgot the bark, this one is all bite."
"That's a terrible pun" Alexandras quipped, adding as late as possible "M'Lady."
"On the up" she replied "at least that vile heap of butchered letters I once thought my finest poetry will have gone up in flames." she mused.
Alexandras looked back at her as if some grave deed had been done, and with deadly serious eyes replied "Oh no, M'Lady, fear not! It is entirely safe!"
Her eyes flew wide "No, you didn't!"
The young guard flashed a true smile, his age shining in his eyes as he tapped his head with a finger. "All safe, M'Lady. We all used to delight in your 'poems'. Quite unique, and useful as passphrases. You'll forgive the intrusion?"
Angelica looked utterly aghast "I have little choice now, rogue!"
"Quite so, M'Lady. But if it is a condolence, it was so bad that it was really quite good." he grinned "Besides" his tone shifted to deadly serious "we never needed you to be a poet."
Angelica threw her half eaten biscuit lazily at him, but realizing how wasteful that was of their priceless stores flicked out her other hand to catch it before it reached him.
Alexandras was smiling broadly, and Maygus looking on from his vantage point against the windward rail suppressed a guffaw.
"Quick hands M'Lady" Antaryon offered theatrically "But not quick enough. If you will?"
Angelica opened her hand, peering. The biscuit was a fresh one, intact. "How did you even...?"
"Well the pepper did not seem to agree with you M'Lady" Alexandras replied "so that one is dried apple and cinnamon bark." he peered closer at it. "I think."
She took the hint and broke off a corner, popping it her mouth and chewing dutifully. She smiled after a pause, successfully swallowing the first morsel. "Or fish and saffron on Ironwood."
Those about her devolved into laughter, as they snapped their biscuits to share the exotic and occasionally alarming flavours, eyes still wandering to the sky in hope of more sun.
@->------
A child's scream shattered the routine of the ship, cries quickly taken up. Angelica refused her guard's encouragement to let them investigate first, children and young mothers flowing as water about the suddenly armed vee of shields as she and her guard advanced towards the bow.
Laying on the deck was Polite, lifeless eyes staring back towards the fires on the horizon, fresh blood running towards the scuppers. Lady Violet stood above her, blood splattered over her face and arms, falling into a perfect courtsey as Angelica approached "M'Lady, I regret to inform that I have caught a traitor."
Angelica stared at her childhood mentor with confusion, anger and regret fused into one perplexed look.
Lady Violet held up her hand exclaiming "here, I have proof! She was hiding these!". Her fingers uncurled cautiously, to not permit the contents on her palm to escape. Sitting there, meek and green washed with bright scarlet, were three tiny strawberries.
