by RR Turock
Chapter 5: Bequest of the Prince
The sound of the drums rung in my ribcage as the parade neared our side of Karrazard. Faster than calm but slower than panicked, the drumbeat matched the pace of my pounding heart. The sight of the parade struck awe in me.
Murmurs passed through the crowds as the pavilion and its escorts ceremonially came down the market street. I spotted my crew members embedded in the crowds. Everyone’s eyes reflected the astounding beauty of the parade.
The scarlet and gold drapes hung over the carved details on the rich oak wood. The carriers of the pavilion each wore gold breastplates over dark, bare chests, wearing red tongs. White hoods covered faces painted white and pastel details tattooed any visible skin. The escorts on horses leading the pavilion were no exception to the elaborate decorations.
Most embellished with ceremony was the leading figure of the royal parade. The rider wore a massive iron helmet painted white with gold rims and his robes were garnished crimson velvet and gold trimmings. He wore gold boots with red details. Time alone, however, decorated his face with his accomplishments and victories.
Pulling the grinning wolf mask over my face, I whisper to my Malec, who had moved beside me. “Is that him?”
Face tense with anxiety, Malec nodded briefly, pulling the grimacing elk mask on. I sucked in a breath, weaving through the crowds, making it to the edge. They were approaching us, almost here. I secured the wolf mask, sweating under the grey pelt. One. Two. Three.
I rolled into the street, making a dance motion before the parade, halting it in all its glory. Our practice showed as the crew joined me with carefully decided movements. Although simple—since we hadn’t much time to learn it—the movements were the demonstration of a wolf’s hunt. I chased other elk-masked crewmembers, making flashy motions.
In their hands, two other wolf-masked members spun strings of vibrant colors. With each elk caught, I danced around them with my posse and their colorful strings. The elk then reverted to a wolf and followed us in the chase. Then, with each round, one crewmember disappeared in the crowds.
The play demonstrated my resolve. Where I was once weak prey, I am now a dangerous predator. I was a wolf. As much as I could howl, I would run in furious chase. I would catch and destroy my every enemy.
In the corner of my eyes, as I watched as two horse riders—each embedded with his own family crest—and the rest of the pavilion move up to see why the parade had stopped. The two equestrians seemed confused, glancing at one another in suspicion. However, the King kept a steady eye on our skit, a curiosity lit in his face.
Distracted, the children in the crowds whooped and laughed in awe of our skit. Alas, Malec was the last to fall and at his moment of demise I spun around to kneel to the King’s pavilion solely, ignoring the crested equestrians and the Prime Minister, Deion. I would kneel only before my grandfather, the sole highest power in Karrazard, under God's mighty domain.
Still catching my breath, I paused as the King addressed me. His voice sounded ancient, matching his whitebeard. “Rise and remove your mask, performer. What is this? Who are you?”
I stood, sliding the mask off, allowing Malec to grab it and recede out of sight. The rest of my crew had vanished completely, like planned. There was no need to endanger them. I straightened myself, lifting my chin. The crowds murmured at the fact I was a woman, as did both the equestrians. Deion only stared silently at me, guessing at who I was.
I restrained a grin to the best of my ability. My voice echoed as the streets fell silent. “I am Piper C’lyris Kaleng, the daughter of the exiled prince, here to declare our arrival. I know the Piper’s Song and I will be the one to announce the next heir to Karrazard’s throne. Although I don’t need it, I would like your approval, your highness.”
Eyes inflamed, Deion reared his horse, hooves rising over me. “Insolence! How dare you address the King in that manner?!”
I raised my chin so my eyes met his in defiance. “And who are you to chide the Prince’s daughter, petty thief?”
The crowds gasped at my words. One of the equestrians, whose crest held a hawk with outreached claws literarily choked with surprise. The second equestrian, wearing the crest of a horse rearing up on its back legs, smirked gleefully.
The King spoke up, stroking his lengthy beard. “And my son, will he be attending the Feast of Harmony?”
I let the grin spread, he did promise to be there for me. “Don’t worry, he will be there. After all, he chose the heir, I’m just telling the world about it and nothing will stop me.”
Deion called out to his guards. “Catch this liar and discipline her, now!”
