- Anais Timbley A Deadly Beauty Chapter Seven The First And The Second

Tùy Chỉnh

Someday in a cold January 1238, and somewhere in Kirklees, a hooded figure standing silently before a grave of someone. That person was holding a lute, and the silhouette resembled a familiar gentleman. If we could guess...

"It's been years, my good fellow...", an also familiar voice was heard muttered, and his fingers plucking on the strings. "Since your death, I had no one to drink ale and share adventures with; and the last ones I could trust are thy right-hand man and our poor abbess...", he whispered.

The atmosphere remained its quietness a long moment after, before a tall figure came and broke the silence with a low yet warm voice.

"Sir Alan...", he called.

Alan-a-Dale smirked without turning over as he recognised that voice whose owner he was once a close acquaintance. If it wasn't the good man whom Robin Hood recruited after duelling him a fair match.

"Feeling like thou shoulde pay a visit to the late master, eh?", Alan-a-Dale's smirk widened to a grin.

"It's been a while, milord. I've been busying with the child lately, I mean, she has been seventeen, and she had blended in the Royal as King Henry's mistress... I've been gathering intelligence through her, and the Shakespeare child...", told Little John.

"Well, if that Anais could gain some good infamy at the age of twenty, then this Anais could be a famous spy at that age also", Alan-a-Dale replied with a smile, "... or earlier..."

"You seem so carefree, milord. This Anais is unlike that Anais; this is a Rebel's daughter, and that was the Crown Princess of England", Little John said with quite a confusion in his mind.

"That Anais could turn King John and his allies upside down, as Anais d'Nottinghamshire herself, not as the Crown Princess. However, it seems to me, my fellow, that Lord Timbley's little daughter had done better... She is worth being the daughter of the Spymaster"

Suddenly, Little John showed a faint, yet connotative smile.

"He would be proud. Well, it was an astounding secret, anyway..."

Addled by the man's strange act, Alan-a-Dale turned over with curiosity.

"What were you talking about?"

"Nothing, milord. I have received a request of audience from the Barons, the requested destination this time is a wooden-and-mud cottage in Yorkshire; in the forest's outskirts..."

"Thou mean my birth-house, eh! It's a safe place, I assume?", chuckled Alan-a-Dale.

"We are too old for jokes, milord, but I still like the way you joke", replied Little John with a smile, "I haven't a chance to teach the child fencing yet. Well, maybe after I finished my businesses, perhaps?"

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"You are late, sirs... And, by the way, welcome home, Sir Alan..."

"My apologies. I was visiting a friend of mine in Kirklees", apologised Alan-a-Dale while nodding a greeting to the barons, "Leaving the guest to wait wasn't a good manner, was it?"

"Well, we will go straight to the main thing. We do not have much time. We have to leave before the Guards find out this place", a baron said.

"In fact, they found this place once, when they were chasing Her Majesty who had just returned from the Holy Land..."

"I said we have no time for joking, sir!"

"My apologies. What was the thing you would like to show us, milord?"

A strange voice disrupted their conversation. "We need you to give this to Lucille Shakespeare", a man dressed in dark cloak stepped out from one corner, holding a scroll. "This is our mother's memento, my little sister should know what she shall do in order to help Anais Timbley. They are our brightest hope in the Rebellion..."

The scroll was handed over to Alan-a-Dale, who trying to recognise the person. The young man that had Maid Rosette's beautiful auburn hair and Lord Simon's bright green eyes.

"Wasn't I told that there was another Shakespeare that survived?"

"I expected you knew, sir", the young man said.

"I just remembered that Will Scarlet once told me— ah, my memories are falling me— that besides the little girl whom he saved in the assassination, the older boy had escaped before it occurred", Alan-a-Dale said in monologue. He then took a glance at the scroll: the wooden core was branded with a familiar coat-of-arms and was sealed with a wax seal which resembled a rose along with a bow and arrow. That coat-of-arms. His mind subconsciously told, "An... Renata...Plantagenet".

"We have to go, or else they will track us. Good day, sirs!", said a baron and they left. However, Alan-a-Dale, Little John and that young Shakespeare stayed. He offered them a seat but Alan-a-Dale jokingly replied as he was the person who said that; and then all seated, anyway.

"You told me who were you, young man?"

"Arthur Shakespeare, sir!"

"You are the escaped elder brother of Lucille?"

"Yes, sir. I'm now eighteen, and a proud Revolutionary", smiled Arthur.

"So, thou should mind thy back...", said Little John, "... If thou still value thy life and thy dearies..."

"How is my sister, sirs?"

Alan-a-Dale leaned back on the couch and giggling.

"How shall I tell? Ah, she is as sharp as an eagle and as gorgeous as a lily; a bright strategist, fits for a brave spy!"

Arthur sighed in relief and replied with a faithful smile.

"Thank you for saving and protecting my sister, sirs..."

"I owe thee a sorry. A deep and sincere sorry... And I owe this scroll's owner my loyalty", said Alan-a-Dale while glancing at the scroll. His voice seemed deepened.

The sound of crackling fire in the fireplace seemingly soothed the seriousness in the atmosphere. Alan-a-Dale thought about a thing which he intendedly abandoned it since that day: the one who would succeed her will. There, after twenty years long, was a person whom he found deserved. The second Anaivere.

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Nottingham castle,... The next morning...

A message pigeon brought along something and dropped it on the window's sill in Anais's bedchamber. Lucille first noticed them: a letter and a sealed scroll. She then told Anais, who was brushing her hair at the vanity, to have a look at them. The letter was opened first, named Alan Clare, and was read:

"Dear Lucille,
I have met your long-lost brother, he handed me this scroll and told me to give it to you. Listen, Lucille, this scroll holds a secret which only few were known about; and we entrusted it to you. Your brother Arthur is now a Revolutionary, and he is doing well; thus don't worry, however I still owe you a sincere sorry of your parents' loss... You shall be our light, continue on the path we would never reach the end. You shall be by Anais's side, aid her with your intelligence; be whom your parents would be proud..."

At first Anais felt kind of disappointed as Uncle Alan have things for them but her. However then Lucille read the other half of the letter to her sister.

"To Anais,
You were named after a legend by your parents with utter proud. Yet Robin Hood, as everyone knows, was a legend that lived; this legend didn't actually lived, but has caused notoriety. Good notoriety.
Lucille shall be your advisor from now on, officially you were both part of the Rebellion; her intelligence is your light in a dark tunnel, so just trust Lucille. You are the one who will inherit this legacy, and the will of the legendary deceased; make us pride and write your name in history...
We were waiting for you in the Forest. Meet us there if you still remember your delayed lessons."

Lucille then checked out the scroll, unsealed it and unrolled it. Suddenly, her eyelids widened and her irises shrunk as she was utterly shocked. Feeling concerned, Anais asked if her sister was all right; however Lucille shook her head, denied that there was a problem. She glanced at the coat-of-arms branded on the scroll, then found it quite familiar. Lucille had a feeling that she had seen this coat-of-arms somewhere in the past; perhaps...

The scroll unveiled a forgotten secret, of a forgotten legend. Mysteries of the scroll and the coat-of-arms surrounded the two young ladies, brought along their destiny. The seventeen-year-old Anais Timbley, and the fourteen-year-old Lucille Shakespeare; could they handle all of these which were bequeathed to them by the deceased? They didn't know. Only time will tell.