The Princess and Her Rogue

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The Princess and Her Rogue Page 31

by Sheritta Bitikofer


  When Nate didn’t answer her, she said his name again and shook his arm a bit. “Nate, are you ok?” she asked.

  “Of course I’m not ok,” he mumbled with a heavy sigh. His tone was rough and self-loathing, which startled Kiara enough to withdraw her hand. “I just found out that I’m the grandson of the worst man in existence. How can you expect me to be ok after that?”

  Kiara didn’t know how to reply in words. Her heart was broken to see him so miserable. She could understand how it felt to learn something about one’s past that was too devastating to bear. Kiara could remember the day that she found out she wasn’t a true member of the royal family. She felt like a fraud, a fake, and a phony. She remembered all the suicidal, rebellious thoughts that buzzed through her mind when she discovered she was the bastard child of a prostitute. She remembered feeling like she thought her whole life was a lie and that she needed to run away to escape the horrible truth.

  So, instead of trying to console him the way Eshean did with her, telling her “Everyone here still loves you”, “This changes nothing about your future” or “Where you came from does not make you who you are”, Kiara copied Nate’s actions earlier that evening. She cautiously wrapped her arms across his chest from the side, her fingers lacing together over the shoulder farthest from her and head leaning against the other. He was warm and soft to hold. She hoped that in some way, this was more than enough to break him out of his depression.

  Nate, to say the least, was caught off guard by the action. He glanced down to Kiara just as she closed her eyes and squeezed tighter. He didn’t know why she did it, but he felt oddly good to receive a hug like this from her. His lips, which had fixed themselves in a bitter frown for the last few hours, twitched into a weak smile. One of his hands lifted itself from its resting place and settled on her own, giving her a reassuring squeeze. No words needed to be spoken between them. After a while, Nate took a risk and leaned his forehead against the crown of Kiara’s head and closed his eyes peacefully.

  A bond formed between the two in that moment and even if they were fated to die before sunrise, they would die together and that seemed enough to make them content. Such a bond inspired Nate’s courage and ingenuity to create a scheme of escape, so that they could have many more moments such as this.

  The two were just about ready to fall into a blissful sleep when there came the loud stomping of boots descending a flight of stairs and the heavy jingling of metal keys. Nate’s senses returned to him and his head shot up to look at the door with such concentration that made Kiara just as alert.

  Next, came the rattling of the locking mechanism on the dungeon door and the thunderous crash of that door being swung open. In walked the most grisly character Kiara had ever had the misfortune of seeing. His soldier uniform was half undone and covered in putrid grease stains that reeked of ale and chicken fat. It was obvious from his staggering walk and blood shot eyes that he had been drinking for most of the night. He stumbled in; his hair ruffled and mouth open and ready to shout about carelessly.

  “Wake up, you fools! You’re supposed to be guarding the prisoners!” the man exclaimed, kicking at the two guards’ chair legs to awaken them from their slumber. Nate eyed the man thoughtfully, staring at the long necked bottle that he held in his hand, concocting a plan already. Kiara, slightly frightened by what this man would do, held onto Nate tighter. In response, Nate weaved his arm around her waist and held her close.

  “Relax, Barnaby, we were just napping. Those two aren’t going anywhere,” one of the guards said, getting up from his post and stretching his arms above him. The other guard was silent as he stood up as well and left the dungeon. Through assumption, Kiara thought that maybe this drunken Barnaby was going to be the replacement for the guard that left. There was no need for three soldiers to be in the dungeon.

  Barnaby looked directly at the two prisoners and chuckled menacingly. Kiara coiled herself into Nate, keeping a wary eye on the drunkard.

  “Oh, yeah. The prince and princess,” Barnaby gave them a mocking bow, in which he was thrown off his own balance and staggered a few steps sideways before letting out a disrespectful laugh. Kiara never thought of it, but Nate was something like a prince. He was a false prince, but just as much of a prince as she was a princess. Such a thought coursed a sliver of shame through her and she bowed her head into Nate’s chest.

  “She’s a pretty one, ain’t she?” Barnaby inquired of the other guard, who only replied with a shrug. Nate held her close and never let Barnaby out of his sight.

  The drunkard finished his crude speech and took a swig of his ale before turning to talk and mock the already dead prisoners. As the man stepped out of sight of the two living captives, Nate turned his attention to Kiara.

  “I’ve got an idea, but you might not want to watch if you get squeamish, ok?” Nate whispered in her ear. Kiara looked up with hesitation and puzzlement. “Don’t worry, I’m right here and I won’t let anything happen to you,” he finished with a gentle smile, then unwrapped his arm from around her and stood up straight against the bars.

  Kiara only sighed, scooted herself into a corner of the cell and turned her back on what would soon take place.

  While Barnaby came back towards Nate and Kiara’s cell, Nate slid his arms through the bars and rested them conveniently on one of the horizontal iron connectors that ran all along the wall of the cell. As the man took another swig of the drink, Nate spoke up.

  “Hey, mind sharing some of that?” he asked in a friendly manner.

  Barnaby turned to Nate with a confused look. “Share what?”

  “Some of that drink there. I haven’t had some in a while. Could I have a swig or two?” Nate motioned to the green tinted bottle in the man’s hand.

  Barnaby looked from the prisoner to his precious drink and groaned in thought.

  “Come on, I’m going to be executed in the morning. Don’t I get one last wish?” Nate coaxed on. Kiara was tempted to look around and scold Nate for such a request, but kept silent and hoped it was only part of his plan.

  “Oh, a fancy boy like yourself shouldn’t be drinking such fine wine as this…” Barnaby lifted the bottle up in an exhibition fashion, but began stepping closer to the cell bars. Nate kept one arm still hanging through the bars while he let the other drop to his side as the guard drew nearer. He glanced to the other guard on duty and smirked, seeing him fast asleep again.

  “But, I suppose if you’re going to die in the morning, I could let you have a tiny sip,” Barnaby finished with a hiccup. He got less than three feet from the cell, stretched the bottle out to Nate’s reaching arm. But, before Nate could get a good hold on the bottle, Barnaby snatched it away from his grasp with a cruel laugh and waved the bottle just a few inches from him tauntingly.

  Nate acted irritated and groped for the bottle like he actually wanted it, but Barnaby wouldn’t let him have it. When the guard was about to walk away, uttering obscene comments and calling Nate all sorts of bad names, the plan was unleashed.

  Nate quickly grabbed for Barnaby’s shirt collar just before he stepped out of range and drew up the dagger he had just snatched from the guard’s belt while he was busy teasing Nate with the bottle. All in just a few seconds, Nate tugged Barnaby towards the cell, his back slamming against the iron bars, Nate pulled out the dagger and jammed it into the nape of Barnaby’s neck. Before the drunkard knew what happened, he was dead.

  When Nate let Barnaby’s corpse crumble to the floor with a thud, the other guard was just beginning to wake up and realize what was going on. He gasped and reached over to the trumpet that sat on the ground next to his chair, ready to sound the alarm. But, before the guard could even lift the instrument to his lips, Nate threw the dagger like a dart and imbedded it into the man’s throat.

  Kiara could heard the mindless, disgusting gurgling noises of the dying guard, her curiosity could be contained no longer. When she turned around to see the floor of the dungeon had rivers of blood mixing in with the
water, she jumped to her feet with a terrified shriek. Nate was too busy fumbling around in Barnaby’s satchel to notice Kiara’s astonishment.

  “Nate! Did you have to kill them? You could have at least knocked them out or something more temporary!” she exclaimed in a hushed whisper, tiptoeing onto the few dry stones in their cell to make her way towards Nate.

  Finally, he pulled out a ring full of keys and began trying each one into the lock while Kiara wrinkled her nose at the horrible, gory mess that Nate would be leaving behind.

  Nate didn’t have to search long before the lock clicked and the door swung open with a loud squeal. Without a word, Nate pocketed the dagger and keys, grabbed Kiara’s hand and pulled her towards the door.

  “We need to get to the armory,” Nate muttered as they climbed the stone steps back up to the main part of the castle.

  “Why do we need to go there? Shouldn’t we go to the stables to get a horse or something?” Kiara asked.

  “No, we have to stop Deceiver from getting to Aleph. We have to stall him somehow. Now, be quiet.” They reached the top of the winding staircase to a wooden door and Nate pushed it open with ease to see where it led to. Thankfully, it only opened up into a dark, deserted corridor.

  Nate and Kiara slid through the doorway. They crept through shadows along the walls, staying as much out of sight as was possible. Whenever pillars were present, they ducked behind them to evade the sight of passing guards. Kiara followed Nate faithfully all through the halls and chambers of the castle without question or concern.

  After five or so minutes of this mindless meandering about the gloomy castle, Nate quickly pulled Kiara to the safety of a wide stone pillar, just as a few knights were walking by with armfuls of brand new, freshly pounded long swords. They trudged on in a sleepy, stupefied fashion and were oblivious to the two escaped prisoners hiding just a few feet from them.

  Nate made a hand motion that they were going to follow the soldiers. Kiara assumed that he must have thought those swords were being carried to the armory. She nodded and they slowly followed behind the group, still taking shelter in the black shadows of the halls and pillars to avoid being noticed.

  After walking up a flight of stairs and down a few more corridors, the soldiers and the two prisoners came across a stone bridge to a separate small building that was, indeed, the armory. Since there were no places on the bridge to hide, Nate and Kiara hid in a cramped corner next to the archway that led to the bridge on the castle’s side and waited for the group to unload their bundles.

  Once the knights were out of the armory and back into the castle, out of sight of the bridge, Nate and Kiara snuck into the dim armory and locked the doors behind them.

  “So, what are we going to do?” Kiara asked, confident that they were out of immediate danger.

  “We have to come up with some way to stall Deceiver before he notices we’re missing,” Nate answered thoughtfully, moving about the room with intrigue.

  Nate took his time, examining the room. Swords with their sheaths and straps hung all over the halls on racks and shelves. Armor and shields were stored in heaps on the first level of the armory, while the second floor - the one that Kiara and Nate found themselves on - was used for storing the weapons of war. One long wall as consumed by swords, another by war axes, one by dirks and daggers and the other became the storage area of a very peculiar weapon that neither Nate, nor Kiara had ever seen before.

  In the far side of the room, opposite the armory entry door, sat barrel after barrel of an unusual black, sooty substance that smelt foul. On the sides of the barrels, was written “Caution: Explosive. Keep Away From Flames”. Kiara read the label out loud for Nate’s sake. In front of those barrels, sat two dozen or more iron contraptions. The body of the weapon was a long, thick tube with a hole at one end and a little rope fuse at the other, that sat upon a wooden platform with three wheels - one in the front and two in the back. Next to all of the weapons, sat smooth, heavy, iron balls stacked in pyramids that were found all over the floor of the armory. On a shelf next to all of these things, were several bags full of flint stones for sparking a fire.

  Kiara paid no attention to the odd machinery, but peeked out the two windows of the armory to look upon the gates they had walked through earlier. Night had come quicker than she suspected and the full moon had risen high in the sky. They had plenty of time to come up with a plan before sunrise. The two gates, though the hour was late, still seemed alive with activity, as yellow candlelight could be seen shining from the look out points. Both towers were about fifty yards away from the armory, the courtyard stretched out between them like a lake of dead grass. However, Kiara couldn’t help but notice that just to the far right of the gates sat the castle stables up against the northern wall and stretched out of sight towards the east, behind the armory. She thought she could see their cart, still filled with their meager belongings.

  Nate, on the other hand, was more fascinated with how to operate the new weapon. Just to test why the content of the barrels was explosive, he scooped half a handful out and dumped it onto the stone floor. It sprinkled down like it were sand or dust, nothing impressive to his eyes. He took up two of the flint stones and struck a spark or two next to the black powder. At first, nothing happened. But, when the dust caught fire, it fizzed and spattered like lightning upon the floor.

  The sparkling sounds caught Kiara’s attention and she turned to watch the little fireworks display. When Nate was satisfied with his experiment, he stomped out the little flames, leaving behind a sliver of smoke rising to the roof of the armory.

  “What is that stuff?” Kiara asked as Nate inspected the barrels, the weapon, the balls and the stones; the wheels in his brain slowly turning out a plan of action.

  “I don’t know, but I think it’ll be perfect for what we need to do.” Nate picked up one of the balls and approached the hole of the iron tube. After judging the sizes, he carefully slid the ball into the tube with great ease. Kiara stood and watched with bewilderment as he loaded two of the weapons and pushed them up to the windows of the armory. From Nate’s occasional grunts, Kiara could tell these weapons were extremely heavy.

  Nate paused and looked down at the little fuse on the weapon’s rear end, which resembled that of a candlewick. He thought for a moment, then turned about looking for something like that in the armory. Sure enough, there was a coil of these tightly woven strings hanging on the wall just below the shelf that held the flint sacks. Nate ran over and grabbed three sets of coils, unwinding each one to estimate its length.

  He took down a dagger from one wall and cut some of the cord into his desired pieces, tied one end each to the little wicks on the weapons, then measured out about ten feet of another section and tied it to those two. Kiara watched patiently as he then did something similar with the tons of black powder on the other side of the armory, sticking one end deep into a barrel stacked somewhere in the middle of the pile.

  Nate then unraveled the two coils of fuse and pulled their free ends towards the armory door. The weapon’s fuse strung out roughly twelve feet, while the barrel’s fuse was strung out about twenty. Nate seemed pleased with his idea, then finally explained it to Kiara.

  “I’m not sure this is how it works, but these bits of rope are what starts those big iron things. The black powder is explosive, so any contact with fire will make it spark like I showed you before,” Nate paused to cut off half a foot of extra coil. He ignited one end with the flint stone and counted the seconds it took for the little flame to catch from one end to the other, “Just this bit will be burnt up in fifteen seconds. I’ve got this cord leading to the weapons that are aimed right at the gate towers. When the weapons go off, the balls will shoot out from the tube and hopefully hit the two towers, causing them to collapse. No doubt these weapons are stored up in the towers, along with one or two of the barrels, so the towers may explode too. The draw bridge mechanism in the towers will also break, making the bridge fall down for us to cross just
before the towers collapse…

  “This cord leads to the barrels. When the flame reaches them, the barrels will explode and blow up the armory. That should slow Deceiver down at least for a few days. If his armory and weapon supply is destroyed, he has nothing to fight Malcolm with. While the fuses are burning, we’ll make our way to the stables, hijack a couple of horses and make our escape before anyone knew what happened.”

  Nate smiled brightly to his plan, but Kiara was more concerned about something else. “So, if this cord is twelve foot, and that cord twenty, and just half a foot of the cord burns up in fifteen seconds…” Kiara paused to do the math in her head, “that means we have six minutes to get past the gates before they fall and ten minutes to get out of the way when the armory explodes… Can we do that?” Kiara looked up to Nate with a skeptical look, but all he did was think about the odds and nod confidently.

  Kiara sighed and shrugged at his reply, hoping he knew what he was doing. If they didn’t get out in time, they would surely be killed, either by Deceiver or by the explosion. As a last minute adjustment to the plan, Nate loaded the remaining weapons with the iron balls, presuming that when the explosion would go off, their fuses would be lit and fire off in any direction, hopefully busting a hole through Deceiver’s castle walls or maybe hitting some of his soldiers. He also grabbed a thicker coil of rope off of the armory wall that would aid them in their escape.

  The two readied themselves at the armory door as Nate struck the flint and ignited both fuses. They ran out, locked the doors behind them and began their journey to the stables.

  Nate tied one end of the rope to a railing on the stone bridge that connected the armory to the castle and dropped the rest down to the courtyard below. He made the first descent from the bridge, which proved easy enough. Kiara, who was more hesitant and scared of falling, took her time climbing down the rope, finding it more and more difficult not to squeak with fright when she felt herself slipping.

  When she finally did make it down, she fell the last foot and dropped into Nate’s strong arms, which quickly whisked her behind the armory building and towards the stables. Luckily, just as they were about to venture out into the open, a dark cloud hovered over the moon and provided them a safe way to the stables in the shadows.

 

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