Rescuing the Prince

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Rescuing the Prince Page 4

by Meghann McVey


  “Those are the orders, My Lady.” The guardsman fidgeted with his sword belt. The others shuffled their feet and shifted their grip on Tolliver. “Please hand over what you have taken.”

  Lady Ariana smiled at the basket on her arm. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. The Latule wood is the only place the specimens I desire grow. Surely we can forget this meeting.” She pushed back the hood of her darker blue cloak, revealing a fair face, flawless as porcelain. If she had been in my world, makeup companies would have warred to have her in their commercials. “I must object,” the guards started to say.

  Still smiling, Lady Ariana came to his side, so close they could have kissed. Her crystal blue eyes radiated a mysterious energy, and her black, waist-length ringlets brushed his face as she leaned toward him. “Take these,” she commanded. “And obey.”

  Between their hands, gold flashed and tinkled.

  “But -”

  “And these. For your fellows. Now…” When she uttered that word, a silence seemed to descend, as if the entire woods and everything in it were holding their breath to hear what she would say. “Release these two to me. Go back to your captain, and report that all is well.”

  “Lady, I must — “

  “You will do it.” Lady Ariana opened her eyes a little wider. Her dark lashes were so thick. I doubted many had successfully refused her.

  The guard motioned to his fellows, who released Tolliver and slunk after him.

  “Are you unhurt, Tolliver?” Lady Ariana’s voice was the melody of a cool stream flowing around smooth stones.

  “Yes,” Tolliver said stiffly. His face, already ruddy from the fight, reddened. “Thank you, My Lady. You have done us a good turn this day. There is no love lost between my liege Arencaster and Latule.”

  “And even less between Lady Lavinia and I.”

  Despite the many questions I wished to ask our rescuer, I remained silent.

  “And you?” Lady Ariana addressed me. “I saw you fall from the horse.”

  My usual fear of strangers silenced me. But it was not as strong as it usually was. Lady Ariana seemed so kind, like the nicest teacher I could remember from grade school. I wanted to talk to her. I just knew she would understand. I opened my mouth, but the words still wouldn’t come.

  Lady Ariana reached out to me, laced her cool soft fingers through my hair. “I don’t feel any bleeding.” Her voice so close to me was icy water, pure and clean, tingling atop my skin. “Are you always so quiet?” she asked with none of the confused accusation of my more outgoing peers.

  “I think she is enchanted,” Tolliver rescued me by saying.

  “I see. Will you come to Ivenbury today?” Lady Ariana asked.

  “Yes, Lady.”

  “Then perhaps I will see you there.” Lady Ariana re-covered her exquisite hair with her hood and drifted away from us. In no time at all, it seemed, she had disappeared into the foliage.

  “A thousand pardons, Leah,” Tolliver said. “Latule has never patrolled the woods before.”

  “All’s well that ends well,” I managed to say.

  “Lady Ariana Ivenbury is trustworthy,” Tolliver said. “When I lost my parents, she looked after me.”

  I wracked my brain for an appropriate response. I hadn’t known Tolliver was an orphan. From the matter-of-fact way he stated it, he had been for a long time. “She still looks so young,” was the gem I came up with. I could’ve smacked my forehead in disgust.

  At the crunching of leaves, we both turned our heads sharply. Lady Ariana had reappeared, leading Arbas by the bridle. “She was looking for you,” Lady Ariana said. “Come away, now. Latule is no place for loyalists.”

  By the time Tolliver and I were settled on Arbas — I had to take a long moment to find my courage — Lady Ariana was long gone. We didn’t see her on the way to Ivenbury. When I asked Tolliver about it, he said that Lady Ariana had likely taken a shortcut too narrow for a horse.

  As we traveled west to Ivenbury, the woods thinned out, and I was able to see the way ahead: gently rounded hills; the dirt roads that wound through them; stone houses with pointed roofs.

  We were still a mile outside of Tarra when Tolliver halted Arbas and dismounted. “There are no trees nearer to Tarra. I want to chop some wood while we are out here and bring it to my family,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  Tolliver helped me dismount, then removed an axe from his saddlebag. I’d had no idea it was in there. Not that I didn’t trust Tolliver; he wore his sword in plain sight, and this was a land where people commonly carried and used weapons.

  I quickly forgot the cautions my prior diet of crime solving shows and the news had instilled in me when Tolliver removed his shirt. The skin of his back, like that of his face and forearms, was a warm hue that made me think of perfectly golden-brown toast. He swung the axe easily, with smooth, sure strokes that made his shoulders and biceps…

  I shook myself with a guilty start. What was I doing? I had entered this world to rescue Gerry, and here I was, gawking at someone I’d just met! I couldn’t believe how shallow I’d turned out to be.

  Scolding myself didn’t help at all. I stole another glance at Tolliver, then averted my eyes - too late. The faint sheen of sweat on Tolliver’s chest was burned into my mind.

  I would ask Tolliver, I decided after several unproductive minutes of self-bashing and circular thinking. That would take care of two things at once: determining where Gerry might be and how I could find him and letting the handsome soldier know I was taken. It was my responsibility to my relationship to tell him. After all, Gerry and I had been together for almost a year. He kept me sane in the mad world we called home. What would I do without him?

  What if we never made it back home? A dissenting voice in my head said. I silenced it as quickly as I could. That was unthinkable! Of course we would make it back!

  Rather than ride in front of me on Arbas the rest of the way to Tarra, Tolliver balanced the wood he’d cut and tied in the saddle and asked me to hang on to it. “I’ll lead Arbas the entire time,” he reassured me. “Are you certain you’re alright? You can walk beside me if you really want.”

  Normally, I’d be extremely nervous about an arrangement like this, even with Tolliver leading the mare. Just now, however, I was more preoccupied with the question I had to ask about the dragons and my subsequent admission that I was with Gerry.

  “There’s something I wanted to ask you,” I said in a small voice that Tolliver heard anyway.

  “What is it?” His brown eyes were so earnest and gentle. My face burned the way it did after a day at the beach with no sunscreen.

  “I…er…” I couldn’t do it. “I forgot. I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  Tolliver just smiled and shrugged. “Very well.”

  And we were off again. To punish myself, I didn’t let Tolliver help me into the saddle; I walked. On the other side of Arbas. Tolliver had to lead the mare (not that she was terribly difficult) and keep the load of wood balanced because I was too short to help.

  Tarra had fewer houses than Autumnstead Village, though these were spread out over a bigger area that consisted of three hills and the valley between them. The villagers had built their dwellings on and around the gentlest two hills, while the Ivenbury manor watched over all from the steepest.

  The houses along the winding paths all looked alike to me, with their sharply-pointed roofs, gray slate tiles with thatch in the damaged areas, stone foundations, and white walls with timber frames. Many had lines hung with laundry and vegetable gardens scratched out of the stony hillside soil.

  Tolliver stopped in front of a house where a middle-aged woman and a young boy were repairing a rickety fence around their humble plot.

  “I’m home,” he said.

  “Tolliver!” The woman’s smile made creases in the corner of her mouth and eyes. She wiped her dirty hands on her dun-colored apron and started for us.

  “Welcome home!” The boy sang out. He ran to Tolliver’s s
ide and threw his arms around his waist.

  “It is so good to see you,” the woman said. “A most unexpected visit.”

  “How are you and Mother, Gascon?” Tolliver asked the boy.

  So this was Tolliver’s mother. She and Gascon looked nothing like him, with their chestnut-brown hair and green eyes. Then I remembered our conversation in the woods. They were Tolliver’s second family.

  “Well enough. Today, we’re making the fence deeper so the rabbits can’t get in,” Gascon said.

  “They make a fine stew if you can catch them,” Tolliver said. “That reminds me. I’ve brought a gift.” Tolliver hefted the cord of wood from Arbas’s back. Gascon lifted his arms to receive it; it was nearly as big as he. Despite his youth, his arms were hard with muscle.

  “Oh, thank you! The nights are growing colder. I expect winter will be hard this year.” The woman’s smile dimmed somewhat. “You’ve brought someone with you, I see.”

  “Yes. This is Leah, who has ridden with me from Autumnstead.”

  Gascon set down the wood to make a brief bow to me.

  “I am Miriam. Welcome to Tarra.” The woman turned up her skirt on one side and made what appeared to be a curtsy. It would have been ludicrous to attempt a curtsy in my riding pants, so I bowed. My usual shyness struck me dumb, so I said nothing.

  As it happened, there was really no need for me to speak. Tolliver was eager for news of Tarra, and his family wanted to hear about Autumnstead and Tolliver’s life. There was nothing I could contribute to the conversation, not knowing any of the people’s names or conditions in Tarra. The best I could do was listen and learn. I smiled and nodded, hoping I was coming across as pleasant.

  At some point during the conversation, Tolliver held up his hand. “I am sorry to be curt. But I would like to be of some use while I am here. When the sun is at its highest, we must return.”

  “You are a good son,” Miriam whispered. She placed her hand on the side of his face and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Leah, have you eaten today?”

  I looked to Tolliver for help. Was she really asking, or was there a right answer to the question?

  Before Tolliver could speak, my stomach growled.

  Miriam laughed. “Wait here,” she said.

  Gascon picked up the pile of wood and, staggering from the weight, disappeared around the side of the house.

  “It is okay,” Tolliver whispered when they were both gone. “They are good people.”

  “You didn’t tell them I was the princess.”

  “Do not fret. They’ve never seen Princess Fiona. They may never.”

  “How do you mean?” My mind raced.

  “Ivenbury is hours from Autumnstead by horse. My mother will never go, and I doubt Gascon will either. It’s too far, and there’s too much work he needs to stay and help her with.”

  I swallowed. This moment, more than any other, brought home what had happened to me. Truly, I was in another world, where there was no television, no Internet, no smart phones, where news received within days was considered speedy.

  Miriam returned with a thick hunk of bread, a side of cheese, and a flagon of liquid she called Merida. The Merida tasted like honey, without making me thirsty. It was excellent for washing down the bread and cheese. I tried not to think about the fact that this was probably Miriam’s lunch, concentrating instead on enjoying it as obviously as possible without words.

  While I ate, Tolliver and Gascon finished the fence, then went inside to help Miriam. I stayed outside, figuring I’d probably get in the way. Also, if I became busy, I might forget myself and speak. Then I’d have to think of a story to explain my prior silence.

  I soon discovered the meal Miriam had given me was very filling, far more than anything in my world. And why not? It was meant to get her through a full day of labor, after all. Just sitting in my stomach, however, the repast made me very sleepy. I fought the feeling, well aware that Miriam had no lawn furniture. I didn’t dare sit on the ground; there could be bugs! Or parasites!

  Eventually, though, I had to sit. I decided on the stone house stairs. The sun had warmed them, making me sleepier. Sitting quickly became slouching, which almost became reclining. Shading my eyes, I gazed into the hypnotic blue-white swirls of the autumn sky. Occasionally my eyelids drooped or birds would wheel across my vision.

  I was about to doze off entirely when a shadow the size of a small plane passed over me. I opened my eyes, my heart drumming in my ears.

  The dragon!

  All tiredness left me, along with my common sense. I didn’t care that the dragon was flying while I was on the ground. Memories of its arm-long claws and teeth like ivory chef’s knives, to say nothing of superior size and strength, didn’t stop me either.

  I raced after it.

  Tarra’s terrain proved an obstacle in itself. As I picked my way downhill the grade, dodging and leaping over rocks, the dragon’s shadow slipped ahead. At last I reached the bottom and closed the gap somewhat on a flatter stretch. However, it wasn’t long before the ground sloped back upward, and I began to lose my advantage.

  Rage filled me as the black shadow and its owner slipped father away, and the prospect of life without Gerry crept closer.

  “Stop!” I screamed, not caring who stared or what they thought.

  Miraculously, the dragon paused in the sky, hovered with its huge batwings flapping and snapping like flags in a strong wind.

  “Wait!” I gasped out, still loud, but with less strength. I ran toward my target with one hand stretched out. My legs and lungs burned. Running uphill was like twice the distance on even ground.

  Suddenly the earth gave way beneath me, and I, too, was flying. I landed with a thud that knocked the wind out of me and caused stars to spring up before my eyes. In a curled-up ball of misery, I lay and gasped for air as elusive as the dragon. The hillside and sky took on a shadowy, unreal quality, almost as though twilight were giving way to night. But I couldn’t have laid here that long; could I?

  Out of the darkness, a graceful figure came forth, the face bathed in light. It was the woman from before, Lady Ariana!

  “Child,” Lady Ariana kept saying for some reason. In a moment of shock, I realized she meant me. I wasn’t a child! Not that I had the voice to answer her, anyway. Her cool white hand touched mine. To show that I had heard and understood, I closed my fingers around one of hers. She placed her other hand on top of mine and spoke words I couldn’t understand, gentle, soothing murmurs.

  Stinging air returned to my lungs. I sat for a minute, leaning against Lady Ariana and wheezing. I felt so awkward and gawky next to her.

  “Your knee is hurt, Child.” I wished she wouldn’t call me that. Not that she had much choice; Tolliver hadn’t introduced me by name, and Lady Ariana seemed too refined to say hey you or make up a nickname.

  Sure enough, my knee was covered in blood. I must’ve landed on it first. Though I looked around, I couldn’t see anything that might have tripped me.

  “Come back to my cottage. I can stop the bleeding.” The crystal blue mirrors of her eyes reached into my own, drawing me in. As I floated in her undertow, fear stabbed my middle that I would drown.

  Just like a shy little girl - to my irritation - I broke Lady Ariana’s gaze and gave a vigorous nod of my head that meant, Ok. I will go with you.

  As we hobbled arm-in-arm to Lady Ariana’s cottage, my thoughts took an odd, rambling turn. All morning, I had gone barefoot, having left Fiona’s uncomfortable shoes at the castle. The dry grass and stones under my feet were something I didn’t experience at home; I always wore shoes except inside my mom’s house.

  It was just as strange, if not more so, for a “lady” to live in a cottage.

  “Here it is.” Lady Ariana extended a graceful hand toward a building that looked just like the others in Tarra: stone and slate, windows with weathered wooden shutters that actually opened to outside without so much as a pane of glass. Wildflowers in a riot of color had taken over the
plot of land, nearly overrunning the dirt path to the door. Given the owner of the dwelling, I had expected a grander place, perhaps with servants to keep things neat and in good repair.

  As though she had perceived my thoughts, Lady Ariana remarked, “Most of the year, I don’t live in my dear little cottage. I come here to indulge my hobby. My husband and the court consider it scandalous for a high-born lady to dig in the dirt. This humble house lets me escape their disapproval to study the properties of plants and use them to help others while keeping close to the people who need me.”

  A golden key appeared in Lady Ariana’s slender, supple fingers. That was something different from the doors I had seen walking through the village: a lock. High security for the day and age this Other World seemed to be in.

  I quickly forgot this fact, faced with the interior of Lady Ariana’s cottage. Like its owner, the place left an impression.

  A strange medley of garlic, rosemary, thyme, and cinnamon greeted me as the door opened. Three tables were jammed inside, covered in baskets of plants, cuttings, mortars, pestles, and knives. Despite the three tables, there was only one chair. While Lady Ariana retrieved a low stool from in front of her fireplace, I continued to look around and attempt to make sense of the mysterious portrait this one-room cottage gave of her.

  Cabinets and shelves filled with books, bottles, and jars lined the walls, and the occasional live plant potted in a barrel. Dried garlands of leaves hung from the low, thick rafters. In one corner, I saw a pallet so narrow, I couldn’t imagine Lady Ariana sleeping on it, not to mention the dirty floor. The center of the room sported what resembled a stone birdbath, maybe for washing herbs?

  “Show me your knee again,” Lady Ariana requested before I had too much time to wonder about the basin.

  “Using my plants to help others and furthering knowledge of their powers brings meaning to my existence. Still, I am well aware that my efforts are a mere candle before the dark void of Chaos that encompasses all that is,” Lady Ariana said as she prepared my poultice.

 

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