Riddermarch by Ellen Quellery (top 10 motivational books .TXT) 📖

of Lady Letita's old things shows up, she loses it. Some say she 'members, and speaks then. Others say, it is a curse from the sorcerer. But I thinks it means the curse is breakin'."

"Breaking?"

The inn worker nodded. "Yep! Thems fits is new. Only this past few years. They say Lord Riddermarch is very close to endin' it, once 'n fer all."

"And do they always rouse up animals for different purposes?" asked one of the ladies. "Like those dogs?"

But the inn worker laughed, "Only if you's annoy them. The village is appreciative ma'am. Thems dogs kept things safe, ya know. I's more worried about spy'n rooks. Not them Riddermarches."

All of that was on the minds of all those partygoers who arrived in carriages at Rookshill Manor that evening. Everyone awaited the Riddermarch carriage, wondering what spectacle elf-descendants would bring to the gathering. But when the Riddermarch carriage arrived, out descended two gentlemen in proper dinner attire, and three ladies now dressed in the latest fashions.

Their hair was even styled properly.

Dale Rawling quickly approached Jastalettel, and another gentleman offered Greenanod an arm. Azuesh was greeted by Lady Lillian who included her quickly into her group of three. Ranoft and Erleon walked in together.

The front hall of Rookshill Manor was brightly lit, the décor within the walls in the latest fashion and in the best condition. The houseguests who had been a day at the Riddermarches' home mentally noted the extreme difference between it and Witsend Manor. This one impressed with its class and impeccable style, whereas the other left a person speechless with awe and made a person feel small. They soon began to realize that going to Witsend was like visiting an ancient forest, whereas Rookshill was civilization.

"So," said Baroness Rooke upon seeing Jastalettel on Dale Rawling's arm in the entry hall, "I see you have acclimatized. Welcome to our party."

Dale pulled a little back in confusion. But Jastalettel fixed her dark eyes on the baroness and merely curtsied.

"Lady Baroness!" Azuesh rushed up with her three new 'friends', grinning brightly. In her arms was a flat box with a satin ribbon around it, the size of a medium weight book. "We wish to give you a gift as a thanks for your hospitality. An anniversary gift that speaks of all our affection towards you."

She handed it to the baroness who grew startled. Not that she hadn't been accepting gifts, but rather she clearly expected none from the Riddermarch family.

Azuesh happily trotted off with her new companions toward the dining hall. All four girls were delighted over the scenery and were commenting on the music, lights, and of course the gowns of the other ladies. Grennanod also passed by with a nod to Baroness Rooke, happily enjoying the attentions of the gentleman who was complimenting her with flatteries. The baroness was half tempted to open the box given to her right then, but held off for smiles to her other guest who greeted her with flowers and congratulations.

Then the dinner started.

String orchestras played as they ate. And the food, it was nothing short of decadent. Roast pig. Large tureens of soup and sauces. Apples and pears in plum sauce with raisins and wine. Breads, hot from the kitchen. With butters of honey and spice. Delicacies like peacock tongues and fish eggs, trimmings of curds and herbs. Salads. And the cheeses - oh so many. The noise of tableware, eating, and lively conversation filled the room. Everyone was fat and full, laughing and talking without a care...when it happened.

The flowers in the centerpiece spontaneously tipped over and doused a drunken speaker (who had just made a callous remark about Lord Riddermarch) with the vase water.

People were up and jumping.

Few realized that it was not him accidentally pulling on the tablecloth as most had assumed. And only a handful noticed that the flowers were longer than when they had been when fitted in the vase, as if they had grown five inches in just a couple of seconds. And servants who took it away said nothing about it except to each other.

In fact, dinner would have passed without incident had not Baroness Rooke said, in her own drunken mirth while gazing lazily at Erleon who sat across from her next to the Lady Who Had Been Bitten: "I pity your father. Such an unresponsive wife. A living doll, practically. How in the world she came to bear children is a complete mystery to me."

Erleon sat up straight.

Jastalettel bristled, her fingernails accidentally digging into Dale Rawling's wrist.

Ranoft turned abruptly from the conversation he had been having with Ernest.

And Grennanod glared.

But Azuesh replied briskly, "Love - Baroness, conquers all."

The baroness cackled in response, a little too drunk to care that she had angered her five Riddermarch guests.

But the Baron noticed. He quickly laid his arm around his wife and whispered into her ear.

"Oh, please!" the baroness retorted loudly. "Look at them! How is it possible? And I, childless all these years!"

The Riddermarch children shared a look of final understanding.

"Dear! Please!" the baron almost begged in a whisper. "The guests!"

The Riddermarches almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Lord Baron Rooke immediate distracted the other partygoers with a cheerful call for performers. He then turned to his nearest neighbors from Harbell Hill to lead - the Westleighs.

The elderly couple nodded then goaded the ladies of their extended family to approach the piano to perform. Lord and Lady Westleigh, the owners of that region and village attached to it, were retired - their eldest son a childless bachelor. Their other grown children occupied the land around Alderwood and over the river in Tymdell. A few of them were at the party.

Amira Westleigh sat quickly at the piano.

Everyone politely listened as she played and sang. Politely emphasized. She wasn't proficient at all, tripping over the keys of the instrument as if she was still trying to figure out how it worked.

Lord Baron Rooke ushered the servants to escort the baroness to her private chambers, as she had become much too drunk to remain with the party.  

The Riddermarches watched.

"But I want to hear them play and sing!" the baroness protested in a loud voice.

"Not tonight, dearest," he said.

"I insist upon it!"

"You are drunk, and not in control of your tongue," the baron said under a low breath.

"He is not here!" the baroness slurred. "And only they came to mock me!"

"They have not come to mock you. We invited them, remember?"

"I have waited twenty-three years - as per the bargain. I concede defeat! You were right!" The baroness's voice rose. "But I demand to hear them perform at least once before the grand celebration! I have to know!"

The lord baron rolled his eyes with a look to the Riddermarch youths, who were all staring back at him.

So were many others. Amira had quit playing. She hadn't really wanted to play in the first place, and the argument had made her lose track of where she was.

Sighing, Lord Baron Rooke straightened up and finally said, "My wife dearly wishes to hear our near neighbors to sing and play, as an anniversary gift."

The Riddermarch sisters shared confused looks among them. The brothers were surprised. They all looked to the harp and the piano, cringing.

"We..." Jastalettle rose from her seat. "...only have a little training on the piano - not like our cousins..."

The Westleighs flustered, uncomfortable that the Riddermarches admitted their family connection. The Riddermarches' grandmother was a Westleigh from Tymedell.

"Do you play any instrument?" asked Lady Lillian, who was intrigued.

"I thought I saw a harp in your home, just this morning," Calea said.

Jastalettel blushed. "But we did not bring our harp..."

"I have one," the lord baron announced.

And the servants quickly wheeled it in, as if it had been waiting in the hallway.

Blushing, Jastalettel nodded to Grennanod as she said, "I only play just a little. My sisters Azu and Grenna are more skilled than I. If they play, I will sing."

"They play together?" whispered one lady a little too loudly.

"It is more like a game," Azuesh said as she rose from her seat. She nodded to her sister, Grennanod, who reluctantly left her dinner companion.

Two chairs were brought in for the sisters. The brothers stood by to watch.

The tune the Riddermarch ladies played was nothing anyone had ever heard before. It was like they were making it up in that very moment. And ever afterword, the audience could not remember what the tune was, though it was mesmerizingly beautiful. The words, however, haunted them.

 

If you know the flowers' mind - beware

If you understand the murmurs of the wind - beware

If you know the songs of the birds

And you can sing along with the words

Knowing the language of the flocks and herds - beware

 

If you see all the colors in the sun - beware

If you can tell where life has begun - beware

If you hear the words of the trees

If you can dance to the movement of the leaves

If you can gather the dew on the leas - beware

 

To the elvish folk belong the songs of the flowers

Theirs is the wind and the murmur of the brook

The elvish folk own all the spare and lost hours

Beware where you listen, beware where you look

 

For they will take you down,

Down,

Down,

Down

To the elvish king,

Lord of Dalethorne

In ancient underground.

 

The entire room sat breathless.

Erleon and Ranoft shared exasperated looks, though. Their eyes said: 'Could you not please bring up the Elfking in a time like this?' But they shrugged it off and clapped first.

Then the room exploded with applause, as it was proper, and felt to be an insult not to.

"Of course," Baroness Rooke slurred, almost acidly. "Beautiful and gifted. Such is the legacy of Genine. You are her children."

The sisters blinked, wondering.

"Our mother's name is Letita," Erleon said.

The baroness laughed. And laughed. And laughed. High, piercing, and drunken - as if it was the most funny, and painful, thing for her to hear. The baron quickly went to his wife's side, but the damage was done.

The woman said to Erleon as she pushed her husband off, "Your mother is but a toy of an old and useless game."

All the Riddermarches bristled.

"I've had enough. He did not come..." The baroness shoved her servants away and stumbled her way up the stairs towards her room. She leaned on the wall, hardly able to carry her weight. The servants followed in her wake to catch her.

"He?" Jastalettel whispered to Ranoft.

"Our father," Ranoft hissed back under his breath. "Though I don't see why."

The Baron called for the string musicians to play again, urging all the guests back to the dining room for party gifts and boxed dessert. The party guests noted to themselves that was the third awkward party-end they had that week. And they wondered if these West Steppe folk knew how to properly end a thing.

"Father has courted no other lady but Mother," Erleon whispered back. "I've never heard of any woman that have sought after him either."

Others in the party were listening in.

"But Baroness Rooke, jealous of our mother?" Jastalettel whispered as she and the others walked back into the dining hall. "It is completely absurd."

Many listening agreed.

"I knew it," Azuesh said.

Her older sister stared at her. And so did others. Lillian and her friends struggled to hide their astonishment. Most had separated themselves from the Riddermarches by that time.

"I suspected it," Erleon murmured, looking back to the stairs.

"But why?" Jastalettel was flummoxed.

They all shrugged. Though, not so much from Erleon and Ranoft. They shared looks again then glanced to Azuesh who nodded discretely.

The two sisters sensed it, but kept quiet.

They accepted the parting gifts from the Lord Baron's servants who were obligingly gifting everyone. The Baron did not pay them any attention at all until they stepped to the entryway to go, where he said to Ranoft, "Is your father intending to miss our entire anniversary celebration? He was to be a guest of honor, as he once was a good friend of mine."

Ranoft, who had heard that rumor once before, replied, "I am afraid Father