Princess

by Nicolette Andrews

  I ignored her and rolled over to face the wall, my arms wrapped around my torso.

  “You have to eat. Starving yourself will not change anything,” she said in a coaxing tone.

  My stomach felt like a pit, just the idea of eating made we want to retch. I buried my face in the covers and waited for my aunt to inevitably leave me. She too had lost friends in the attack. Nearly half of her personal guard had perished.

  When I heard the sound of my aunt’s footsteps fading away, I climbed out of bed. On the chair in the corner, Celia’s cross-stitching lay folded up, awaiting her to return and continue her work. I picked it up with shaking hands. The design was half done, but the splashes of color were vibrant against the cream fabric: reds, blues and greens. It was like a painting done in thread. Celia had a talent for cross-stitching. I had scorned it, but seeing the bright flowers, green grass, and blue sky as she had portrayed it on the fabric made my heart hurt. I fell to my knees, clutching the half-finished work to my chest. She had plans. She wanted to start a family. She wanted to be a wife. These things I have been given would have meant so much more to her. Why is it that I must remain and she has been cut short? Celia had been my only friend, and I had used her without considering her feelings. I should have died instead of her.

  The only thing that drew me from my chamber was the departure of Mathias and his riders. They were prepared to wage a counterattack against the Cat Clan, who had come in and slaughtered many of our family and friends. I dressed in black, reflecting on my mother’s death and how I wore the black with hesitation, feeling it was unnecessary. After seeing the dead sightless eyes of the settlers in Reglabal, I felt it was the least I could do to honor the memories of those lost.

  The household gathered outside. Mostly women and small children. The Cat Clan’s attack had killed many but not all. There was a resolute expression on the faces of those waiting. The men wore their hair in single braids, straight down their backs. They painted their faces with whirling patterns that framed their eyes and bled into their beards. It was beautiful and fierce. Seeing the hundred or so men with blue-painted faces, I hesitated.

  Idella and Aland stood side by side, representatives of our two people. My marriage to Mathias may have bound our people, but these were the true rulers. Idella noticed me and waved me over. It was too late to flee, so I went to her.

  “I am glad you came,” Idella said and reached for my hand. I let her take it and squeeze.

  I scanned the crowd without conscious intent.

  “My son will be joining his warriors shortly,” Aland said. I was not certain if it was in answer to my questioning gaze or not.

  I nodded my head and lowered my lashes.

  Then a cheer went through the crowd. My head shot up as Mathias sauntered out from beyond the double doors of the building. The men chanted and stamped their feet. He stood before the assembled crowd and held up his hands. The crowd fell silent.

  He spoke to them in the Biski tongue. Though I did not understand all the words, I got the gist of his speech. He promised them vengeance for their dead, for their wives and children, fathers, and sisters. The gooseflesh on my arms rose as he spoke. When I had first met him, I thought him wild and savage, but seeing him speaking to the warriors, the rapt attention they focused on him, was awe inspiring. These men would follow him to the ends of the earth. He will make a great leader of men.

  Aland seemed pleased with his son. He nodded his head. When the speech was over, the men mounted their shaggy ponies. Mathias turned around to face me. His expression was hard to read. He had the same blue painting on his face. But he did not look fierce to me. I saw the characters of a leader, a man devoted to his people who would do anything to protect those he loved. If only he could love me as well. These were bitter thoughts, but who was I to deserve his love. He was a great man.

  He took a few steps towards me. I could see in his expression that he wanted to say something to me. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but words seemed to dry up in my throat. I looked away. From the corner of my eye I saw him frown and turn away.

  They mounted their steeds, and the men had begun filing away. I looked up just as he swung into the saddle. I should say something, anything. This could be the last time I see him. I reached out a hand, but his back was turned to me. He kicked his heels into his mount and took off.

  “Come back to me, you hear!” I shouted after his retreating form. My words were snatched away by the wind and the thundering of hooves.

  I took a step back and pressed my hand to my chest. Please come back. If not for me, then for your people.

  When I turned around, Aunt Idella was watching, her expression unreadable. I had a few choice words for her. It was not often I exposed my vulnerable side to others. Had I known she was watching me, I would not have called out to Mathias.

  “It is the curse of women to watch, wait and worry,” she said. Her expression was distant, as if she were lost in her own world.

  “If it were up to me, we would not be forced into such a situation.”

  “If the world were only that simple,” she replied.

  There was feasting in the hall after the warriors departed. I was still not much for company and decided to slip away to be alone. Idella let me go without complaint. She was drinking with Aland, and when I left the hall, she was matching the robust man glass for glass.

  War and death did strange things even to the best of us, I realized. If Idella wanted to drown her sorrows in a jug of wine, who was I to stop her. For me, solitude had always been my greatest comfort. After my brother died, I had spent hours in the tunnels. My nurse had been beyond herself when I emerged unharmed. I think they even sent out a search party for me.

  Thinking of my brother brought the pain of my loss back. What would I give to have him ruffle my hair once more, or just tell me a joke to make me smile. I had never felt a part of court since his death.

  I pushed open the door to my chamber. It was dark within. I had thought a fire had been lit before I left, but all that remained were a few burning coals in the fireplace. Celia was the one that made sure the maids kept the fire burning. Just the thought of her was like a stab to my gut. I gasped and fought back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm me. I stumbled into my room and sank down on the bed. I leaned forward and cradled my head in my hands. I never cried, I had not cried at my mother’s funeral, but I cried then. The weight of everything seemed to be suffocating me. Celia’s death, Mathias’ departure and my own uncertain future pushed me beyond my tipping point.

  I cried hollow sobs that racked my body. I curled over onto the bed and lost sense of my surroundings. I did not notice anything amiss until the cold steel was pressed to my throat. I gasped and tried to sit up, but a hand grabbed my elbow.

  “Come with me quietly now, or there’ll be trouble for you.”

  I went rigid all over, and thinking quickly, I grabbed the pillow off the bed and flung it at my attacker. It was enough to surprise him. He dropped the blade, and I jumped to my feet. I did not stop to look at him but headed straight for the door. But as I approached, a large figure filled it.

  I could not turn around fast enough. He grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around to my attacker.

  “You should have taken my offer sooner,” Lord Herrondell said with a sneer.

  My head pounded. “What are you doing here?” I demanded. It was not my most eloquent moment, but it would have to suffice.

  Lord Herrondell smiled. “The Order needs you, Your Highness. Come now, there isn’t much time. The guards will be back any moment.”

  I scanned the room for a weapon, anything that might be used to get away from Lord Herrondell and past his enormous bodyguard who blocked the door. There was nothing within reach, and Lord Herrondell, seeing me looking around, tightened his grip on my shoulder.

  “It’s time we left, Your Highness.”

  I went with him, pretending obedience. Beside the door was a table with a pe
wter pitcher. When we drew close, I reached out and grabbed it. I closed my hand around the handle, spun up and swung it at his face. It struck him with a hollow ringing sound. He let go of me and I ran to the door. I ducked beneath the arms of the guard, who was shocked enough to let me past.

  I got a few feet down the hall before something struck me in the back of the head and everything went black.

  Chapter 13

  My head throbbed. I dragged my eyes open. My hair swayed back and forth, obscuring my vision. I stared at the world upside down. Beyond the curtain of my hair was a sea of grass. It rippled and rolled like the ocean. I tried to sit upright, but my head swam and I discovered my hands and feet were bound, keeping me upside down. I tried to scream for help, but my mouth had been gagged. I smelled horse and sweat.

  Someone spoke in rapid Neaux, too quick for me to decipher. The methodical clopping of horse’s hooves halted and the animal huffed. The rider slid down and I turned enough to see my captor. He bent over in front of me so that we were face to face.

  “Madame, you have awoken,” the stranger said in accented Danhadine.

  I glared at him and grunted a muffled reply. Where am I? What do you want from me? I intended to say. It came out less indignant and more like a wounded animal.

  He tutted and waggled his finger in front of my face. “Now is that any way for a princess to act.” He laughed at his own joke.

  I screamed against the gag, hoping against hope that someone would hear me and come to my rescue. I writhed back and forth in my bonds. I rolled over the back of the horse and hit the ground hard. Landing on my shoulder, pain shot up and down it. Great, did I break my arm on top of everything else?

  The man came and stood over me. I saw him clearly for the first time. He had dark curly hair, not unlike mine, and black eyes that were crinkled at the corners. He thinks this is funny. Well, I am glad he’s amused. Did Lord Herrondell sell me off to this madman? What is their plot?

  “Jean-Paul, stop teasing the girl. Untie her,” Lord Herrondell said. I could not see him. I tried to wriggle around to get a better look.

  Jean-Paul shrugged and rolled me over onto my stomach to untie my bindings. When my hands were free, I ripped the gag away from my mouth and turned to my captors.

  “Why are you untying me? Are you not afraid I might run away?” It was not my wisest idea, but I was curious. What kidnapper untied their hostage? I still did not know why they had kidnapped me. My first thought would have been ransom. It was not unheard of that criminals would take wealthy lords for ransom. I would not be the first. I somehow doubted this was about money. If they wanted to kill me, they could have done it long ago. No, they wanted me for some plot, I was certain, and I was determined to find out what it was.

  Lord Herrondell’s lips curled up at the corner. “I apologize for our gruff manner, Your Highness. We had to move quickly before the guards realized we were there. They would have tried to stop us, and I would not have been able to rescue you.”

  I scoffed. Does he really think he is saving me, or does he think I am that naïve? “Do you often tie the people you rescue, or am I just a special circumstance?”

  He laughed. “I have not had the pleasure of rescuing many damsels. Perhaps you could give me some pointers.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He had to think me a fool to accept that as a plausible explanation. “So now you have rescued me, what happens next?” I thought of asking about Mathias and the others, but I could not force the words out. Perhaps now that they had me, the others would be safe.

  “That will be explained in good time.”

  “Can you tell me where you are taking me, at least?” I asked. I knew evasion when I saw it. There was no use probing him further. Lord Herrondell would tell me what he wanted and no more. It was easier to play along and let him believe I was a willing companion.

  “To our camp, a safe place.” Lord Herrondell held out his hand for me. I took it hesitantly. “You can ride with me. The encampment is not far from here.”

  He helped me into the saddle, then climbed up after me. He held the reins loose in hand, careful not to touch me in any way that would be considered unseemly. Jean-Paul rode beside us, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. I had never seen the massive guard before, but he reminded me of the men who had attacked me at the pier. It would have been nice to have someone of his size watching out for me back then. I wonder if he can be bought. Would Mathias pay for a bride if I promised it? I shook my head. I would not count on rescue from my husband. If I wanted to escape, it was up to me.

  We rode for a time. Jean-Paul and Lord Herrondell made for somber company. I occupied myself by planning different escapes. None of them were feasible, but it helped to keep my head clear and focused. We reached the crest of a hill, and from there I could see the plains stretched out before us. The grass spread out beyond the horizon in all directions. I saw no sign of Reglabal, and I would not know how to return even if I had the chance. A camp of perhaps half a dozen tents bordered a stream. They were an odd assortment. Some were painted in the Biski style with animals and markings, and others bore crests of houses that I did not recognize. The center tent and largest had a large silver oak tree painted upon it. My heart soared thinking of home. Then I saw the circle encasing the tree; it was the symbol of the Order of the Oak.

  We made our way down the hill. As we did, men came out of their tents. It was a strange array of Biski, Neaux and Danhadine. They wore mismatched gear, dented breastplates with torn leather straps, and threadbare tunics. They appeared to be soldiers, or at least that was what I assumed them to be. They all had the hard cold eyes of fighting men. They watched our party as we rode through the rows of tents. Some did not stop to watch us for long. A few men moved about the camp, cleaning weapons, tending to horses, and at the far end of the camp a group of soldiers sparred. Their bare chests glistened with sweat, and the clang of metal rang out like a song.

  Lord Herrondell brought us to a halt outside the largest tent. He dismounted first and then helped me from the saddle. He was careful not to let his touch linger overlong on me, but there was something hungry in his gaze. As if I were a bit of mutton and he was a starved dog.

  “Please come meet my mistress. She has been eager to see you.” He motioned for me to walk into the largest tent.

  Jean-Paul went in before us. He pushed back the flap of canvas that acted as a door. I was surprised to see a room furnished as well as a salon. A bed draped with furs and plush pillows sat in one corner. Fine carpets that would have been better suited to a grand entryway than a small tent in the wilderness covered the floor. A set of chairs created an intimate seating area. It was opulent compared to the decay of the camp. A woman sat in one of the chairs, and she turned to the door as we entered. She wore a gown made of dark velvet. Her black hair was twisted up on top of her head. She had gray shot through it. Her olive skin was near free of age lines. She held her place in a book with one finger. She projected an image of welcome curiosity, but her eyes were dark and full of cunning. This must be their leader.

  She rose in a graceful motion and set her book aside. “Your Highness, welcome.” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm as if she were greeting me in the entryway to her palace.

  She crossed the tent towards us. Her skirts rustled as she moved. She opened her arms as if she wanted to take me into her embrace.

  I took an unconscious step back. I was not in the habit of greeting strangers in such a familiar way. When she noticed, she smiled. She did not seem offended, more amused than anything. It made me even more ill at ease.

  “I am relieved to see you made it safely. There have been awful rumors about an attack on Reglabal. I’m glad Nathaniel was able to get you out in time.” She nodded her head towards Lord Herrondell. He inclined his head to the woman.

  “The rumors are true, and they say the Order of the Oak had a hand in the attack. Have you heard anything about that?” I said. I could not hold my tongue. The
casual way she spoke of the slaughter at Reglabal, as if someone had spilled soup at a dinner party, it made my blood boil. I thought of Celia, killed in my stead, and of all the others who had lost their lives.

  Someone coughed behind me, and it sounded suspiciously like laughter. I suspected it was Jean-Paul.

  “Princess Edalene, you are lively and beautiful just as your brother said.” She ignored my statement and reached out to touch my face, and I moved away before she could.

  I felt as if a fist had hold of my heart. I did not want to hear this murderer talk about my brother, but as much as I hated it, I wanted to hear more. “You knew my brother?”

  She smiled again, like the cat does at the canary. “Oh yes, we were very close.”

  My skin tingled and the small hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. I could not be certain she knew my brother. It would not be the first time someone used him against me to try to win my trust. She might assume I was a naïve girl, but I saw through this charade. They wanted to use me just like the rest, but I was willing to play their game, at least until I could find some way to escape.

  “You seem to know a lot about me, but I do not even know your name.”

  “How neglectful of me, I am Celeste D’Aux.”

  Her name seemed familiar, but I could not recall where I knew it from. I was certain my brother had never mentioned her before, and I told her as much.

  Something flashed in Celeste’s eyes when I said this. She smoothed it over with another smile quickly enough. “I doubt he would have told you. Our correspondences were something of a secret.”

  I suppressed an eye roll. As I suspected, she was using my love for my brother to exploit me.

  “Why did you bring me here? What can a bastard princess do for you?” I asked.

  She pressed her hand to her mouth and made an impressive display of pretending to be offended by my colorful language. “You are a direct child,” Celeste said with a sigh.

  Lord Herrondell interrupted. “As I told you before, your brother never intended for your marriage to be a political one. That was one reason we extracted you from Reglabal.”