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A travel homewards
Posted: Fri Oct 21, 2005 3:56 pm
by Bailey Thunnigan
As Bailey stepped from the ship she took a deep breath. "Home", she whispered, but not in a pleased way... more like spitting it out.
It was early in the morning and the sun just rised from behind the mountains. Bailey wore her guards uniform and her two handed sword was straped to her back and she maintained a serious face. She has changed. A lot.
Bailey didn't say 'goodbye' to Bran or Farel or her captain. She wasn't very fond of dramatic farewells. She left a Bran a message on the pillow and Alysha got a letter from her.
Her heavy boots made loud noises as she stepped over the cold, slightly snow covered pavement. Barely anyone was awake yet, apart from some bakers...
Hesistatingly her gaze wandered west to a house on the hill
...
Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2005 12:39 pm
by Bailey Thunnigan
The travel was exhausting, so Bailey changed her mind and instead of walking to her fathers house she made her way to the towns tavern.
It felt like ages since she has been here the last time and even the barman didn’t seem to recognize her, though he kept a suspicious eye on her.
“Some mead.”, Bailey ordered.
The Barman only nodded and grabbed an empty horn to fill it with the yellowish golden liquid from the barrel, while Bailey took a seat at the bar.
She unstrapped her two handed sword and leaned it against the table and then stroke in a sighing manner over her cheek.
The tavern was clad in a dark brown, nearly ebony wood with simple patterns in the posts. It smelled like beer and from the kitchen came a scent of freshly made goulash. Apparently the windows have never been cleaned; it was impossible to catch a look outside…
Or inside.
From the corner of the room came a humming. An old, hoary man, who probably wasn’t able to find his home the evening before, was sitting in front of his nearly finished beer.
Somewhere under the table laid another wasted guy.
“Some things never change”, Bailey thought and cast a glance back on her mead which she just got handed by the barman. She could feel how the question ‘who she is’ lingered on his tongue as she paid him, but he didn’t ask.
Without any word he turned into the kitchen as the door of the tavern was pushed open in the very same moment.
A black haired young man entered in a manner that gave away that he knew this tavern like his own pocket, but then he stopped a moment in his movement as he recognized something amiss. He examined the stranger with raised eyebrows for the fraction of a second before he took the seat right next to her.
“New here?”, he asked casually, hiding his curiosity.
Bailey simply shook her head on this question. She knew this guy … She once punched him out a tooth when they were in the age of 12 or 13.
She grinned a little at this thought but hided it rather quickly by taking a sip from her mead.
“Bring me some beer, Istvan!”, he yelled into the kitchen. “I need something to wake up.”, he added for himself before turning back to Bailey. “You’re not very talkative, are you?”
“No”, the woman in the armour replied.
“And that’s a very big sword you have there.”, he grinned while pointing at the two handed sword, leaning at the bar.
“With this big sword I cut the heads of big idiots”, she rolled her eyes and he bursted out in a not-so-confident laugh.
“Now, now… but tell me. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“Maybe”, Bailey glanced at him.
“Come on. What’s your name? I usually never forget a pretty lady.”
The next moment he stumbled off his chair as Baileys fist hit his cheek. Holding his bruise his eyes widened as a memory suddenly occurred to him.
“… Bailey?!”
Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2005 4:37 pm
by Bailey Thunnigan
The following hours Bailey spent with Saro, who was once a boy of the neighbourhood. Meanwhile the boy grew up to quite a man, who actually was the towns famous smith nowadays. They laughed a lot and spoke about old times, as they were children. All the mischief they have caused with the other brats.
“So you actually came here after you were thrown out of the army?”, Saro asked while putting back the mug of beer on the table.
Bailey nodded. “Aye, but I left the very same day again.”
“Why haven’t you said ‘Farewell’? Your father told everyone that he received message that you died in battle.”, he chided her.
A grumble came from Baileys throat at those words. “Did he? Great…”
“I don’t understand? What happened between you and your father?”
“I dishonoured him. That’s why he told everyone I died. Apparently he would have preferred that.”
“Hm.”, was Saros only comment as he looked to the mug, rubbing his bruised cheek.
After some minutes of silence he asked though. “What are you going to do now?”
“I will visit him. There are some things to clarify.”
“Eh, just be careful. Your father has grown to a rather bitter man. The old Thunnigan stays in his house most of the time and rarely comes to town.”
Bailey nodded slightly.
“So… Bailey Thunnigan, town guard, I see you still aren’t married since you still carry your maiden name. Maybe I should take the chance?”
Bailey laughed out loud. “Maybe you should take your chance to run”
A grin came across Saros face and he finished his beer. “No, seriously Bailey. Is there still no man who got a hold of your heart?”
“Actually…”, Bailey said and her gaze wandered back to her mead. “… there is.”
Saro grinned and raised his empty mug. “Damn, I’m too late.”
“Very funny.”
He patted Baileys shoulder, before she stood up from her chair.
“I will go and see the old man now.”
“Be well Bailey. And come and see me once more before you leave this time, alright?”
Bailey gave a boyish smile and nodded.
“Promised.”
Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2005 1:36 pm
by Bailey Thunnigan
It was shortly after noon as Bailey wandered up that hill to the house that was once her home. Her steps were slowly since she had no reason to hurry and also she needed her time to think. How would he react when seeing her? And how should she treat him like?
About 15 minutes later Bailey stood just a few more metres away from the house, but instead of continuing her way there, she turned around to an old willow tree. Beneath this tree, close at the roots, there was a small gravestone. The grave of her mother.
She lowered her head for a moment and walked closer to the engraved stone and kneeled before it.
Lilian Thunnigan
Loving mother and wife
When Bailey was a young girl and her father told that her mother died at her birth, Bailey felt like it would have been her fault. Like she would be the cause for her mothers’ death. Often she wished not to be born and having Lilian alive, so that her father would not be alone all the time. She could feel how hard her absence was for him.
And on the other hand, she wished she had been able to spent time with her. To have memories of her. Remembering her scent, her smile, her warmth…
“I hope I haven’t failed you as well…”, Bailey whispered quietly, before standing up again and finally heading to the front door.
She knocked three times violently against the wood and closed her eyes to listen if any noise came from inside.
…
…
Nothing.
No steps, no voice.
Instead of knocking another time, she just tried if it was unlocked and surprisingly the door swung open at her attempt. “Hm”, Bailey frowned but entered.
Nothing had changed in the house. Still the same furniture, the same old curtains and everything stood at the same place like the day she left. This big, empty house gave just one single impression and that was frustration.
With a shaking head Bailey looked around and as she stood in the living room she knew that he wasn’t at home. She approached to the chimney and took a small casket from ledge. Within there was a parchment with a drawing of her mother. She had the same dark blonde hair and the same brown eyes. The only difference was the long, curly hair falling down her shoulders.
Bailey put the drawing back into the casket and let it vanish in her bag. “At least one memory”, she thought and in the very same moment she turned on her heels and with fast steps she went upstairs, while the wood creaked under her heavy metal boots.
Without hesitation she entered the bedroom of her parents. It was a huge wardrobe that Bailey aimed for. Her father had put all the belongings of his wife into it after she died and locked it. Bailey never had had the chance or was allowed to peek into, but this would change now.
Not even trying to open the wardrobe in a ‘normal’ way, she strapped the two handed sword from her bag and struck out. With a bursting noise the metal hit against it and wood splintered into all directions.
Only a short pulling was needed now to open – or better said – to remove one of the folding doors.
Many dresses, shoes and other clothes were stuffed in it and Bailey took a deep breath before she examined one by one. She touched the cloth and felt over the fine embroideries. Some of them she hang back into the wardrobe, two others she put aside. Also some of the jewellery…
“He does not need it anyw…”, Bailey whispered but stopped in the middle of the sentence as she spotted a book beneath a couple of shoes. Carefully she reached for it and read the first side. “Lily’s Diary”, could be read there. With a heavy beating heart Bailey stuffed the book into her bag as in the very same moment some steps sounded from beneath
…