The Hold Must Go On

Writers: Eimi, Paula
Date Posted: 20th January 2009

Characters: Zelanka, Chupsin
Description: An era has come to it's inevitable end
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 1, day 8 of Turn 5

Zelanka hold the tray in her arm and knocked the Lord Holder's office
door. She waited for few seconds so that if her timing was bad, he
would call thru the door for her to come back later. There was no
call, so she entered. "Good Day, My lord, it's your noon meal..." her
cheery voice trailed off when her brains registered what her eyes saw.

He was slumped against his desk, face hidden between his arms. A ink
bottle had fallen over and spilled a large puddle of ink to the desk.
That, if anything, alarmed her.

"Ben?" she asked, voice barely over a whisper. Somehow she managed to
put the meal tray to a side table without as much as disturbing the
surface of the klah. "Ben? Don't do this to me, it's not a fun prank,"
she said, almost tiptoeing across the office. When did it grow so
large? She bent over him and shook him gently. Her fingers brushed
against his neck. The skin felt cold, clammy to her touch. He was not
moving, not breathing. "No, Ben. Darling. Don't do this to me,"
Zelanka's voice came out as a low moan. She crammed her knuckles to
her mounth to suppress a scream she felt bubbling uppwards from her
guts. She felt chilled and her arms were on goosebumps.

What she was to supposed to do now? She felt panic rising. Running
around the hold screaming, he is dead, was what she wanted to do. But
no, that was not the right way. She need to call in someone, but who?
One of his sons, the steward? Someone to confirm his...a healer! The
thought was like a ray of hope. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe healers
could so something! Yet sametime she knew, deep in her heart that her
beloved Lord Holder was beyond all help. Chupsin, she had to get
Chupsin. He was loyal to the hold, you could trust him. She nearly run
off from the office. But her mind was still clear enough so she closed
the door after her and walked with dignified pace towards the
infirmary. There was no need to alarm anybody else....yet. That little
word was like a tunnelsnake gnawing it's way thru food stores .

A drudge tried to stop her and ask her something on the way and got a
very uncharasteristic snarl from the Headwoman, who was usually so
calm and friendly. She jerked the infirmary door open. "Chupsin!" she
was realived to see him on duty. "Come quickly, it's an emergency!"

The journeyman closed the herb cabinet once more and turned a steady eye
on the woman. She was obviously distressed and a calming influence was
important. Often what a layman might consider an emergency was
understandably worrisome, but hardly called for panic. "Yes, Headwoman?
How may I be of service?"

"You have to come with me, right now," the panic threathed to
overwhelm her again. "It is his lordship," she lowered the voice.

"Yes, I understand," Chupsin said with a solemn nod. He had attended
the Lord Holder on several occasions over the last few turns. "Is it
another attack? Is he coherent?"

"He is..." the word refused to come out from her mouth, "...not moving
at all."

"I will come immediately," the journeyman nodded. "Just let me grab my
bag."

~~**~~

Zelanka had helped Chupsin lower the Lord Holder to the floor. He was
completely unresponsive, and the Healer knew just from the feel of him -
the coldess and the stiffness starting to set in - that they were too
late. It was not wholely unexpected. Lord Benaroy had been suffering a
series of small strokes over the last couple turns, warning of a much
larger stroke to come, larger even than his first. They had tried to
delay the innevitable through his diet, medicines, anything that might
prolong his life. But there was only so much he as a Healer could do.
It seemed the final stroke had come at last. Still, he would have to be
sure, and so while the Headwoman stood over them he bared the Lord
Holder's chest and put an ear to it, looking for any sign of life in
what he already knew to be a corpse.

Zelanka just wrung her hands helpless when she watched him, waited him
to confirm her worst fears. She already knew it, but she refused to
admit it.

Luckily the journeyman did not have to keep her waiting long. He
sighed, rocking back on his knees. "I'm afraid there is nothing I can
do. I had better inform Steward Cyrek."

Zelanka let out a little whimper. She bit her knuckles again. "This
can't be happening." She felt the colour drain from her face and the
room swayed around her.

"Well, we all knew this was coming for quite a while. It was really
only a matter of time. I don't think many people thought he would last
as long as he has." Chupsin carefully closed Benaroy's shirt, granting
the Lord Holder the dignity his office deserved.

Zelanka had nothing to say. She just sat down heavily.

The journeyman looked up at the sudden movement. "Headwoman? Are you
all right?"

"No, I feel faint," Zelanka replied. She was in fact, in shock.

"Oh dear, it's all right," he said, leaving the body to attend to the
living. "Put your head between your knees. There you go." The healer
had plenty of experience with people going into shock at the sight of a
dead body, especially the body of someone they've known as long as the
Headwoman had known the Lord Holder.

Zelanka did as she was told to. She felt the tears stung behind her
eyes, but she couldn't, wouldn't let them come out. Now was not the
time to show a weakness. She had to be strong. The hold must go on.

Last updated on the January 20th 2009

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The Hold Must Go On