Post by Luke Pescaro del Leovanni (R) on May 11, 2006 15:29:38 GMT -5
We risked the mountain passes to get back to La Serenissima with the greatest speed. We rode hard, my men and I, not looking back and resting rarely. We rode in front of the first major snowstorm of the year, the soft flakes coming down on the already white ground as we climbed down from the pass. The D’Angeline at the border let us through with few questions, which I was grateful for. My mind was elsewhere.
We didn’t have as much luck when we left the lands of Elua. It was colder, and the snow deepened as we rode. We headed for the sea as soon as we could, taking advantage of the warmer climate to speed our passage. And then we arrived.
I almost wept at the sight of La Serenissima, as strung out as I was. I grew up in this place, and though I had an urge to travel and learn more of my D’Angeline heritage, I always rejoice when I return. My men set up a ragged cheer, and I joined them.
We entered the city gates, calling greeting to those we knew among the guard, and made our way down the familiar streets. I led my men the long way through the city, meaning we stuck to land. I saw merchants and old friends as we rode, not looking much older than when I left. I greeted them all, a smile on my face. Bittersweet happiness went through my veins.
And then we were well and truly home, coming through the grand gates of the Pescaro property. The servants smiled to see me, though one could feel the tension that ran just underneath the surface. I swung down off of Max to see Lizabeth running towards me, tears streaming down her face. I caught her and held her hard. There are no words to describe the reunion of twins, and so I won’t use any. But I led my sobbing sister inside after a long moment, trusting the staff to take care of my things.
I found my grandfather in the entrance hall, looking very old. He moved stiffly as he reached out to greet me, and I could see the toll of my grandmother’s health etched in his face. Wordless was our greeting, but none needed to be spoken.
“Oh Luke, you have to come and see her.” It was Lizabeth’s first coherent words amid the sobs, and my grandfather nodded agreement. I followed as they led me down the silent halls to my grandmother’s rooms.
She sat in her bed, propped upright with pillows, and I quickly discerned that they did this to help her breathe. Her skin was pale and paper-thin under the rich black hair that hadn’t diminished in beauty with age or sickness.
“Lucius.” She breathed the word, joy penetrating the mask of pain on her face. I went over and knelt beside the bed, taking her hand.
“Grandmother.” My voice broke at that one word, and I stayed beside her for many hours, offering what comfort I could.
We didn’t have as much luck when we left the lands of Elua. It was colder, and the snow deepened as we rode. We headed for the sea as soon as we could, taking advantage of the warmer climate to speed our passage. And then we arrived.
I almost wept at the sight of La Serenissima, as strung out as I was. I grew up in this place, and though I had an urge to travel and learn more of my D’Angeline heritage, I always rejoice when I return. My men set up a ragged cheer, and I joined them.
We entered the city gates, calling greeting to those we knew among the guard, and made our way down the familiar streets. I led my men the long way through the city, meaning we stuck to land. I saw merchants and old friends as we rode, not looking much older than when I left. I greeted them all, a smile on my face. Bittersweet happiness went through my veins.
And then we were well and truly home, coming through the grand gates of the Pescaro property. The servants smiled to see me, though one could feel the tension that ran just underneath the surface. I swung down off of Max to see Lizabeth running towards me, tears streaming down her face. I caught her and held her hard. There are no words to describe the reunion of twins, and so I won’t use any. But I led my sobbing sister inside after a long moment, trusting the staff to take care of my things.
I found my grandfather in the entrance hall, looking very old. He moved stiffly as he reached out to greet me, and I could see the toll of my grandmother’s health etched in his face. Wordless was our greeting, but none needed to be spoken.
“Oh Luke, you have to come and see her.” It was Lizabeth’s first coherent words amid the sobs, and my grandfather nodded agreement. I followed as they led me down the silent halls to my grandmother’s rooms.
She sat in her bed, propped upright with pillows, and I quickly discerned that they did this to help her breathe. Her skin was pale and paper-thin under the rich black hair that hadn’t diminished in beauty with age or sickness.
“Lucius.” She breathed the word, joy penetrating the mask of pain on her face. I went over and knelt beside the bed, taking her hand.
“Grandmother.” My voice broke at that one word, and I stayed beside her for many hours, offering what comfort I could.