[Rp] Beyond the line.

War is terrible. We've grown up with that idea, that war is evil, that people suffer and die. Cattle is killed in order to feed soldiers, harvest is stolen. The plague grows strong. All hope disappears. We all know that since we leave our mother's chest. But the truth, the one no one really wants to know is that the apocalyptical ideas we grow to learn have nothing to do with the reality.

No one wants to know that, once you live the real war, you'd give your inmortal soul just to live a few days in the wars they described us.

The Marquis of Gondomar and the Isles was riding through Hell. With few fellows, he had travelled through Castille, Biscay and Navarre, before crossing the Pyrenees. Then, he went even more quickly. His informants told him the aragonese and valentian crusaders were far, in Armagnac, but he did not confide at all. Aragon had been Castille's enemy not long ago, and he felt not comfortable giving them a chance to kill them all.

Soon, Gascogne was left behind. His objective was closer, but he didn't stop. He was still crossing a war, and was really anxious of getting to his destiny as soon as possible. And, when he finally arived to Tiffauges, he felt some kind of peace. They have arrived, and now they were safe. Pheraps Blanche an Anne were safe aswell.

Ancient symbol of power, Tiffauges castle laid in the border between Brittany and France. Almost ruins, it had became the Reign of Brush. Until last year when, reviewing the family records, in order to mix both Blanche's and Astaroth's, he had found about it. And, now, a year later, it was inhabitable. Maybe, it would not resist a group of peasants with shafts, but it was enough to live for a week or two.

With a cold gaze, he reviewed the ancient castle. A servant came out.

Has my wife arrived?-he asked, without looking at him.

I'm afraid she has not, my lord. It has rained heavily last weeks, she may come soon.

The Marquis laid a moment in silence, observing. Suddenly, he remembered all what he had read about Tiffauges. The explanation that such a good castle was now a ruin. He shaked lightly his head, forgetting about it.

Prepare the rooms. We'll share room and bed, but my wife will also need a room for her and our daughter. My guards will sleep in the common room. -the servant bowed.-Ah, and we're hungry. Really hungry. Solve it as soon as you can.

That "as soon as you can" sounded like a threat. It was, in fact.

He came out of the castle as soon as he was adviced of his wife's presence. Outside, the weather was hostile, as if it tried to tell Astaroth his blood was not welcomed there. Hostile.

Blanche.-he said.-Please, come in. Anne and your men will be given of a good fire to rest.

His voice sounded altive. And he had called her Blanche. When he felt happy (seemed long ago) he used to call her by her breton name. But, now, he was not happy. Astaroth had became such a bitter man during last two reigns, and now, he was even more bitter.

You've changed.-he said, as they walked through the Castle to the ancient Great Room.-It is not a critic, but a fact. I see they indulge you in the Louvre.

Something, maybe jealousy, was shaking in his stomach. He was not rich when he married, and he was not when she left. Now, he had a better situation, but the jewels she used were too expensive. A King's gift. Few men can understant what does it feel like to be oblied to support a man they hate. Astaroth may not love Blanche, but he was a proud man. She had left him, and now she lived with him. Now, he had two men to kill.

Don't get used. Kings rise, Kings fall. And, if they don't their hobbies do.-it was provoking her. It was his futile revenge against the woman he had cared of.

The double doors of the room opened, and they both sat in the chairs arround a round table. Some servants started serving some food and wine.

I'm... disappointed, Blanche. I can't deny it. You fled from me with our daughter. I was looking for a fellow, a pair, someone to support me. And you failed me. I made a Marquis of you, gave you all I have. And you betrayed me.-he sighted.-But I guess I can't blame it on you, I'm as guilty or even more. No resentment, not in my case, at least.

He drank the dark wine on his jar. It was an important moment.

We must speak about certain points. First of all, I still have no heir and, as you'll guess, it does not please me. But that's a minor problem, right now. We have a daughter, and I can't even see her. I'd like to solve that point. -final movement.-Finally, I've been thinking about it. I want you to return to me, to Gondomar at times. When you're not with me, you may live in the Louvre, if you want to, but I'll send a Guard with you to protect your life...

His gaze turned suddenly frozen, threatening. Blanche may not feel fear from Astaroth, but that gaze was a real threat. A proud man's threat.

...and your honor.

¡Crossbows!

About a dozen of men walked a step forward, aiming with their weapons to Blanche and her men. A smile of fun insinuated across Astaroth's face.

I thought your french adventure would had made you more wise. I was wrong, I guess. Ain't wise to try to impress a man in his own castle, with his men all arround and only protected by men who do not belong to you. No, in fact it is not.-he looked at his men.-Jacques, guide the Princess' men to their rooms. Downstairs, you know. Martiño, my daughter would like to rest. Her room is ready, take her there.

As soon as they went alone again, the smile disappeared. It was just a character, a mask, the role he played in the Court, in the complicated game he played every single day. But, now, they were just husband and wife, there was no need of masks.

You're no Princess no more. Don't forget that. And you're not talking to a peasant. My linage has given six Kings to Castille, two to Aragon, a Great Duchess to Caspe, a Marquis to Gondomar, Earls to Urgell, Astarac and Palace, Barons to Retz and Lords to Touriñán, Fisterra, Chantada, Noia, Valdecorneja and Tiffauges. Don't forget that point.-rage had crossed across his only eye, just a moment. He was a proud man, more proud than Blanche could ever be.-You're nothing but what I let you be. You're not rich. You've got money, but no lands, no fiefs. Gold ain't richness, gold evaporates if you don't make it flow. You and me were not grown as merchants. We were grown as nobles. We don't know how to make money into more money. Our wealth is land, our wealth is fealty. And you have none.

He served himself more wine.

Drink.-he ordered.-I have no need to poison it, you're safe. If you pretend to be a Princess, start by have a Princess' courtesy.

He looked a second through the window. Outside, rain kept falling hard but, through it, he could even see a rider entering the castle.

You've got no right to claim about my hobbies. I've been in lots of burdels, I won't deny it. But it was your fault. I didn't even thought about it till you left me alone.-he sighted.

It was not Astaroth's merit, in fact. He had been too busy to think about beeing infidel to Blanche, and her left happened just when his role in the Court had gone insignificant. And, when it raised again, she was not there.

As I told you, your luck's as bright and ephimere as a shooting star. It won't rest for a long.-his eye fixed in Blanche's gaze.-You know where we are, Princess?

He laughed. It was kind of sinister sound. The joy of a man who's pride has been hurt and seeks now his revenge close.

This is Tiffauges. This is the shooting stars cementery. You may reconsider your strategy, honey. You won't leave this place till I let you do so. So, once again, think about my propositions. Think...carefully.