The Princess and Her Rogue

by Sheritta Bitikofer

  “Who is this from?” the princess asked. Her maidservant quietly and timidly pointed to the rogue across the room and dismissed herself back to the kitchen.

  Kiara glanced to Nate, who was gazing at her with a knowing smile. She smiled in return and unfolded the paper under the table. On it, was a drawing of a tall tree with blossoms scattered along its branches and a stone bench just below in it. She recognized it as the courtyard just outside the great hall. She looked up to Nate who motioned his head towards the door. Did he want her to meet him outside?

  Indeed, he did. As soon as everyone was finished with their meals, the tables were moved out of the way and the musicians were ushered in to begin their gay tunes. Everyone danced and frolicked around the room with their dance partners or stood along the sides, talking and chatting idly.

  Kiara, who was more nervous than she could begin to describe and had suddenly lost her appetite after interpreting the note, stood up from the table and walked around to watch what Nate would do. And, just as she predicted, he gave her a respectful nod and walked right out the great hall and into the courtyard.

  Sir Claude approached Kiara with an offer to dance, but she politely shook her head.

  “No, forgive me, but I have to go tend to something concerning my maidservant in the kitchen. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

  Kiara turned on the balls of her feet and rushed into the service kitchen, where she ignored the few greetings given by the servants and walked straight out the servants’ quarters and took a turn around the castle to come to the courtyard. She knew that if her father or Sir Claude saw that she had gone out to the courtyard at the very same moment that Nate did, then suspicion would spread like wild fire.

  As she came upon the courtyard, her heart and stomach fluttered within her, feeling like they would burst from the excitement. What could Nate possibly need to say or do that could not be done at least under the eye of a chaperone. Kiara saw him, sitting on the bench, patiently waiting for her.

  When she came up beside him, Nate rose to bow to her in greeting. She respectfully curtsied and as she rose up, Nate produces a bouquet of wildflowers that he had hidden behind the bench. Kiara smiled and graciously took them with her cheeks burning a bright red.

  “They’re lovely. Thank you,” she muttered, trying not to talk so loud as to draw attention to them, even though there was no one within sight.

  “Not as lovely as you… Please, would you sit with me a while?” he asked, offering her the space on the bench. Kiara blushed and sat down, holding the flowers in her lap, admiring their simple beauty, trying not to look up into Nate’s eyes that were staring a hole through her.

  “May I ask why you have called this little secret meeting?” Kiara asked, looking above at the brilliant full moon.

  “I wanted to speak to you about something very important.” Nate’s voice was deep with severity, but he stayed as outwardly calm as possible.

  Kiara looked up to him with dazzling eyes that reflected the moonlight that was illuminating the sky. “And what is that?”

  Nate had to snap himself out of the trance she had inadvertently put him in before continuing very boldly. “I don’t think you should marry Sir Claude,” he stated.

  “I don’t think I should either,” she said with a smile.

  The rogue was expecting some other sort of resistance from the princess, but when she gave none, he had lost half of his planned conversation. “Oh… Well, then don’t.”

  “I’m going to try not to, if my father will allow it…” Kiara looked away regretfully. “But, until something can be arranged, then I am still bound to the engagement.”

  Nate gazed at her radiant profile and smiled. “I understand,” he said softly.

  “But, enough about me. What about you? You are pardoned of your crimes, your father is being reinstated to the kingdom, you’re a squire in training to be a knight and you’re being sponsored by the king himself… It looks like you’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted.”

  Kiara looked back up to Nate, who’s expression was startling. She had never seen such a mix of emotions in his eyes. He looked scared, but at the same time, happy and at peace, but confused and love struck all at once. Kiara found herself mirroring that very expression with the next words he said.

  “… Not everything.”

  Nate reached up and slowly wrapped his calloused fingers around the back of Kiara’s neck, his thumb stroking along her jaw line and cheek, making her shiver with anticipation. His face drew closer and closer, the closest it had ever been. Kiara didn’t move, she didn’t breathe. She only closed her eyes and embraced the moment as Nate gently pulled her in and his lips finally touched hers.

  Sparks flew between them, fueling the fire within themselves. Kiara leaned closer in and reached up to hold Nate’s head against her own, never wanting this precious moment to end. In turn, Nate’s lips pulsed passionately against hers. Again, she didn’t resist and held on tighter, her fingers running lovingly through his coarse hair and her own lips matching his movements. She felt no control over herself and she didn’t care. Kiara finally knew Nate’s feelings towards her and he finally knew hers. She didn’t even care if someone came out and tried to pull them apart. She would only refuse to let go and hold tighter, gathering his shirt into her tightened fists. She never wanted to let him go. This kiss was long overdue.

  Off towards the great hall entrance, lurking in the shadows, Sir Claude stood watching the two lovers kiss under the pale moonlight. He felt, all at once, anger, rage, depression, betrayal and heartache. He wanted to run Nate through with his sword, but at the same time, he felt like doing it to his own self.

  He couldn’t break his stare upon them. It was like the longer he looked, the more his feelings went wild. It was only when the two finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling to each other like young lovers would, did he hear the insufferable words being muttered from their mouths.

  “I love you, Kiara. I always have and I always will… I never want to leave you again. I never want to lose you.”

  “I love you too, Nate… And that will never change. As long as I have something to say about it, you will never lose me.”

  “My heart is yours for all eternity… I swear it.”

  Sir Claude watched with a bleeding heart as the two resumed their romantic lip locking. He finally turned away and forced himself to disappear back into the great hall.

  Unbeknown to all three, Justin watched from the corner of the courtyard, just around the edge of the building. He saw their kissing. He heard their words of endearment and the promise that Nate had made to her. Justin also saw Sir Claude’s crushed expression from a distance. He sighed and watched the two until they had had enough and were ready to go back to facing the real world.

  Meanwhile, between Zayin and Resh Pass, upon a hill, lay two of Malcolm’s most trusted scouts, vigilantly watching over Deceiver’s encampment in a low valley. They were waiting for their third comrade who came running up the hill to them, panting and excited. He had just gone poking around the camp to survey the odds.

  “How many do you think there are?” one scout asked the other.

  “Probably close to five thousand… They’re still no match for Malcolm,” responded the third scout, who was writing a short report on a piece of parchment paper.

  “Does it look like their weaponry is advanced?” the remaining scout asked.

  “No. They look to have the typical weapons of swords, bow and arrow, axes, spears and all.”

  “And horses?” the first scout asked.

  “Probably only enough for Deceiver and his strongest knights. All the rest look to be infantry.”

  “Good, no cavalry to speak of. That should be good news to Malcolm’s ears,” said the second.

  “I’m not sure where they’ll be headed next, though,” said the spying scout as he rolled up his parchment paper and stuck it into his shirt for safekeeping.

  “I can make sure you find out,�
�� said a gruff, unfamiliar voice from behind them.

  The three scouts looked up in horror to see some of Deceiver’s men standing there with swords and clubs. The scouts were outnumbered with no chance of escape. They were swiftly captured and dragged down to the camp.

  In Deceiver’s personal war tent, he stood hunched over a table that was layered with maps, reports and plans. Azor, his advisor, stood near him, leaning on his cane. The Deceiver looked to be deep in thought when his men barged in, carrying the three scouts with them, looking to have been mercilessly beaten from the time of being captured to being thrown at Deceiver’s feet.

  The tyrant chuckled and approached the three quivering scouts. “Well, well… What do we have here?” he asked.

  “Scouts, my lord. They were caught spying on our camp,” one of his men answered. “What shall we do with them?”

  Deceiver grinned and stooped down to lift the head of one of the scared, jittering scouts. “You will do absolutely nothing,” he said.

  The men looked to each other in confusion, and then listened as Deceiver continued.

  “Send them back to Malcolm. I have a message for your king.” Deceiver leaned forward and whispered the message into the scout’s ear, then stood up. “Now, go!” he barked.

  The three scouts scrambled to their feet and ran out of the tent, out of the camp, back to their horses. But, only the one made it back to his horse alive. An archer was ordered to pick off the other two who had not heard the message.

  Deceiver stood outside his tent, watching the scout go with an evil, wicked grin across his face. He had full confidence in who would win this battle. Nothing would stand in the way of his victory.

  Chapter 24

  The following morning, Sir Claude woke up early to fulfill a mission. He marched his way over to the great hall, his belly on fire with anger. He could hardly sleep the night before. The image of Kiara kissing Nathan was burned into his memory, and he was unable to think of anything else. Having to relive the image of utter betrayal was too much for him to bear. He had to set things right, but he was not the one to do it.

  Sir Claude marched into the great hall, where some of the royal family and knights were pleasantly eating their breakfast. His fiery eyes scanned the faces for Nathan, but he was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Kiara sitting at her place. Coincidentally, Malcolm was absent as well. The only one of authority in the entire room was Justin, sitting at the head table, eating his breakfast like nothing was amiss.

  Everyone’s gaze fell on the knight, wondering what was wrong, as he made his way to confront Justin. The prince looked up and didn’t seem bothered by Sir Claude’s disposition.

  “Good morning, Sir Claude. Is something the matter?” Justin asked, knowing this had something to do with his unfortunate discovery last night.

  “Yes, something is the matter. Where is the king?” Sir Claude demanded, a scowl fixated on his face.

  “My father has taken his breakfast in the council room so that he can better plan for the battle against Deceiver. Can I be of some help?”

  Sir Claude’s expression turned sour with frustration as he turned and walked away without answering. Justin knew that the knight should not be in this angered mood when facing Malcolm, because Sir Claude was inclined to overreact when he was this furious. So, the prince quickly stood up, set his younger brother in charge and hurried after Sir Claude as he exited the great hall.

  “Sir Claude, I demand to know what is going on.”

  “I need to talk to the king immediately,” Sir Claude growled, turning into the throne room, with Justin at his heels.

  “Then you need to wait until you’re announced or given permission to have a word with him. You can’t just barge in there while he’s in a meeting!” Justin scolded, grabbing Sir Claude by the arm to hold him back from marching into the council room, but the knight snatched his limb out of the prince’s grasp and kept going.

  Inside, Malcolm was sitting at a long table with his council, including Eshean who sat beside him, looking over the maps and plans that he had been looking at some days before.

  Sir Claude, ignorant that they were discussing some important business, stood before the king, his anger evident. Justin stood beside him, hoping that his presence might help the situation in some way. He prayed that Sir Claude wasn’t going to confront Malcolm about what he thought he was going to.

  “Your majesty, I beg pardon for my intrusion, but I need to speak with you,” Sir Claude said with as much civility as his emotions would allow at the moment.

  Malcolm regarded Sir Claude and Justin with a look of puzzlement. “Is it so important that you feel you have the right to interrupt this conference?”

  “Yes, your majesty, I believe it is.”

  “Well then, tell me.”

  The whole council, believing this was some news about Deceiver or the condition of Malcolm’s army, turned to Sir Claude and waited. The knight looked to them all and glanced to Justin’s bemused expression, then turned back to the king.

  “May I speak with you in private about this matter?” he requested.

  Malcolm looked offended by this question and sat back in his chair. “Does this have anything to do with Deceiver or my army?”

  “No, your majesty, but…”

  “Then it can wait for a few more hours. You are dismissed.” Malcolm turned back to his plans. “And cool yourself off before I see you again. The hate in your eyes is not becoming.”

  Sir Claude tightened his hands into fists and felt like breaking something just to get the king’s serious attention, but thought it wiser just to be gently led out by Justin.

  But, before they could exit the room, guards rushed in.

  “Your majesty, the scout has returned!” he shouted, distress plain in his face.

  Malcolm stood up and moved around the table. “Scout? Only one? I sent out three. Send him in!” the king ordered, suddenly distressed himself. The crowd dispersed into the throne room to meet the scout.

  The guard nodded and stepped out of the room briefly before ushering in three more guards who were carrying the weak and feeble scout into the throne room. Sir Claude and Justin stepped off to the side to watch the whole scene.

  Malcolm, startled by his mangled, beaten appearance, ordered that some bread and water be brought to him. A servant took the responsibility of bringing the scout refreshments before Malcolm approached him.

  “Where are the other two that were with you?” the king asked.

  “They’re dead,” the scout began breathlessly, slurping down the water between sentences. “We came upon Deceiver’s camp. I snuck in to survey the men and supplies, but some of the soldiers discovered us. They beat us and brought us to Deceiver’s tent and he gave me a message to give you.”

  Malcolm, who was engrossed by the scout’s report, nodded for him to continue. “Well, what’s the message?”

  The scout waited until he had chewed up and swallowed the mouthful of bread between his teeth, then spoke. “He will meet you where you two last battled. If you’re late, he will bring the fight to your cities and towns, burning and pillaging until he reaches the capital… After he told me this, he sent us all three off, but an archer shot down the other two before they could reach their horses.”

  Malcolm turned to Justin and Sir Claude, who were just standing dumbly without anything to do. “Sir Claude, sound the trumpets and assemble the men! We move out as soon as everyone is armored and ready. Justin, you stay with me to discuss the battle plans,” he commanded, pointing him out the door with a stern, authoritative gesture. The knight wasted no time, almost forgetting why he had come to Malcolm in the first place.

  Sir Claude climbed the tower and blew the trumpet three long times. Knights, squires and mercenaries all over the castle grounds heard the alarm and gathered up their armor and weapons. They did not neglect to bid farewell to their families and loved ones they had brought along before rushing up to the castle to congregate in the courtyard, great
hall, throne room, armory, stable and the fields around those buildings.

  Within just half an hour, most of the men were in their suits of armors, had saddled their horses and were ready to move out with the king. But, Malcolm wanted to make sure that everyone was counted for before he dared step on foot out of Aleph. He walked amongst his army, flanked by Eshean and Sir Claude - who was still waiting for his chance to discuss the pressing matter on his mind.

  “Your majesty, why can’t we leave? If the scout’s report is true, our six thousand or more will beat Deceiver’s five thousand. And we have more mounted cavalry than him. I’m sure that with the forces at hand, we will be able to make this a swift victory,” Eshean tried to reason as they passed by a few knights.

  “I am taking no chances. I want every squire and knight with us,” Malcolm replied, his confident war face already on before the battle would even begin. “Where is my son?”

  “He is assembling some of the squires,” Eshean replied. Just then, Justin came running up to his father in a mild state of panic.

  “Father, Nathaniel is missing,” he reported.

  Sir Claude’s eyebrows pinched together over the bridge of his nose in disgust, while Malcolm and Eshean exchanged confused glances. “Well, do you know where he is?” the king asked his son.

  “No. I haven’t seen him since last night after banquet. He did not come in for breakfast as far as I am aware and he has not assembled with the other squires. He’s gone. And so is Kiara.”

  Sir Claude felt he would burst with fury. Malcolm looked very disturbed. “What?” he exclaimed. “Where is she?”

  “I told you, I don’t know, father. She came to breakfast, but I have not seen her since then,” Justin said with agitation in his voice.

  “Um… My lord?” Eshean said, stepping forward. “I gave leave for Kiara to go into town for her usual visits. She asked my permission this morning before breakfast.”

  Malcolm calmed down and let out a sigh of relief. “At least we know where she is.”

  “And I’ll give you two guesses where Nathaniel is,” Sir Claude muttered angrily, glaring in the direction of town.