Annabeth's War

by Jessica Greyson

  She had almost died, in fact, just as he had entered the tent only a few moments after her terrified scream.

  That scream.

  He shivered.

  Seeing her on the ground terrified, paralyzed with grief, and that knife hanging over her head...He had almost killed Lord Raburn on sight, but had refrained himself. In a moment Eliot was there and only as Eliot could, he fished the plans out of the man...the army hiding in the woods, ready to attack.

  They hadn’t needed to talk; they knew each other’s minds from training, and in an instant charged into action.

  The two of them had gotten Raburn’s small army to surrender. Most of the men had been tired of Raburn’s tyranny, but had been too afraid to do anything against his will.

  Prince Alfred had found him and asked him to come. Ransom had, and now she was in his arms, unconscious. Men were watching him as he carried Annabeth to her new quarters.

  Annabeth was a legend in so many minds. She was just a girl in his—one who needed protection and love like any other girl, except she needed it more, because people didn’t see her that way. She didn’t want to disappoint them, so she struggled onward, hiding her pain, her suffering—trying to be everything they needed and everything she needed. It would break her if she didn’t stop.

  Ransom laid Annabeth on her new cot, pulling blankets over her. He stood there wondering, worried. Just then, Lady Christina came in.

  “Is she going to make it?”

  Ransom shrugged and shook his head; he didn’t know. For his own heart’s sake, he wished she would. But for her? Could she really live through another tragedy in her life? It had been struck with grief and pain so many times, slashing her heart to pieces. Her heart had healed together again, but this was different.

  Oh, God, do what is best for Annabeth. Keep her safe from more harm, fill her with Your love. Amen.

  Ransom smiled softly. Annabeth was right. Everything would be beautiful in His time. Whatever that was, wherever it happened, He would make things beautiful.

  Silently, Ransom slipped out of the tent. King Harold said that he wanted Ransom’s presence in his tent after Annabeth had been comfortably settled.

  “Your majesty,” he greeted with a bow as he was ushered into the joint meeting tent.

  “How is Annabeth?” asked King Harold.

  “Sleeping, at least for now.”

  “Good. Now, we have some business to discuss. You have done much for Beltarra, and King Fredric would like to honor you. He would like to knight you and give you lands of your own; however, he realizes this might not be agreeable to your lifestyle, and in that case there is a large reward of money waiting for you.”

  “And what do you think, your majesty? Should I accept?”

  “You are free to do as you wish, Ransom—when have you ever done anything else?”

  Ransom bowed his head with a slight smile. “Please tell King Fredric that I thank him very warmly for the offers, and I would be delighted to accept one, but would like for some time to consider.”

  “What—you can’t decide on the spot? Ransom, my man who always knows exactly what he wants, can’t make up his mind?”

  “It is not just my own feelings that I wish to consult.”

  “Ah, is that the way the wind blows,” said King Harold, not trying to hide his smile. “I never thought you would settle down.”

  Ransom ignored his king’s comment.

  King Harold sighed reluctantly. “Well, that complicates matters slightly with Annabeth. Not that they weren’t complicated already.”

  “What are your plans for her?” asked Ransom.

  “Her father charged both of us with Annabeth’s care, but since he didn’t leave her in either of our charge but rather collectively, we have been trying to decide what to do for her. Naturally, King Fredric would like to keep her as one of his subjects—she was practically raised in his court, though she was never a courtier. And I feel more than an obligation to her. Her father saved my life, and I want to do what is best by her. So it has been decided that whomever she decides to go with, she shall be their ward and the other will provide her with a dowry. We would both like to make her a lady, as well, but that is something Annabeth would have to want. She has been raised around the titled all of her life, and she’s never shown much of an inclination on that subject. But then again, things might have changed. Her father should have been a knight—he deserved the title.”

  Ransom wondered if Annabeth’s head would spin at such prospects.

  Anxiously Ransom counted the days before the physician thought her body was strong enough to bear the shock of what had happened. When it came at last, it was thought best that he should be the one beside her. She had fallen asleep in his arms; she should wake with him at hand.

  Quietly, Ransom sat beside the bed, trying not to feel fidgety and anxious. Slowly Annabeth’s eyes opened, and she looked around the tent.

  “How are you feeling, Annabeth?”

  “Better; thank you,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand. “Was it all real or was it just a dream?”

  “I wish I could tell you it was just a dream.” He sighed.

  “My father...is he really gone?” There was a choke in her voice.

  Ransom nodded. “Lord Raburn is dead. His army surrendered the moment they saw his cause was a lost one.”

  Annabeth sighed and looked up at the tent’s slanted ceiling.

  “I am sorry, Annabeth.”

  “Sorry, for what? You didn’t do anything to hurt me.”

  Ransom raised her hand and kissed it gently before looking her in the eye. “I am sorry I couldn’t do more.”

  Annabeth looked at him. “You’ve done more than enough. You have done more than I could.”

  “What on earth makes you say that?”

  Suddenly tears swelled in Annabeth’s eyes, and she turned away.

  “What is it, Annabeth?”

  “I don’t know how to face it. I don’t know...how to bear this. My father was the last thing I had, and now—it’s all gone.” There was a gasp of pain and held back sobs that came from deep within. She bit her dry lip to keep back the tears.

  “Do you remember when you told me that God makes all things beautiful in His time?”

  “Don’t throw my words back in my face, please,” she whispered, her voice choked with the tears trying to burst in her throat.

  “Beth. I don’t want to hurt you, but you are right. He does make everything beautiful.”

  Annabeth turned further away, trying not to shake with crying, struggling to be strong, to be fine, to just survive with her shattered heart.

  “When I was twelve, our village was raided by a northern country. I was out fishing with a friend. By the time we got back our entire village was devastated. Gone. Every parent, brother, sister. The raiders attacked me and my friend. I was too scared to fight back. I fled; he stood his ground and was murdered where he stood, defenseless. That day that I determined that I would never run from a fight, that I would never be unarmed or unable to help those around me. I would learn to master weapons, and I would destroy whoever dared to cross the law. For years, I studied and trained with a traveling swordsman. I learned everything I could from him and eventually could even master my master and any swordsman I came across. Then the king came across me at one of his tournaments and hired me for all kinds of different jobs.

  “I was taught from boyhood that God has a purpose for everything that happens in a life. I never could understand why He took my family, my four brothers and sisters; why did He take what I loved most out my life? Why? Now I understand. Annabeth, He has given me the heart of a warrior, a defender, a protector. If that hadn’t happened when I was boy, Annabeth, I wouldn’t have been here. I wouldn’t be the man I am today, as much as I ache still for my family. All of the things I have done in my life—I don’t regret any of them. Annabeth, I wouldn’t change a thing. He has made my life beautiful, He has given it purpose where I could see
none. He will give you purpose; He will give you beauty...”

  Annabeth started to cry, her body shaking with heartbroken pain.

  Unexpectedly, Ransom gathered her up in his arms and held her close. Annabeth shivered under his hand and pressed her head against his shoulder, crying. She shook, holding her breath, making the tears stop, and gripping her sorrows firmly.

  “Oh, Ransom, if I could have faith like that.”

  He gently pulled her away, catching her chin in his hand, then tilted her face upward to meet his gaze.

  “You have it, Beth; it just seems so dark you can’t see it. He is there; He will make things beautiful. You will see in time. It will heal. You will carry a scar in your heart for your father all of your life, but it will make you better than you ever were.”

  She looked at him helpless, afraid, wounded. “Tell me it will be all right,” Annabeth whispered.

  Ransom pulled her close, slipping an arm around her and smoothing her hair with his hand.

  Annabeth held onto his doublet with tight fists, as if holding on for dear life.

  “You’ll be all right,” he whispered. “Someday, sooner or later, it will all make sense. Everything will be beautiful for you, too.”

  Chapter 24

  Annabeth retired to her tent, her head reeling. She sank down on her cot, placed her head in her hands, and rubbed her temples.

  What do I do? Oh, God, what should I do? She had never thought beyond day by day, sometimes hour by hour; at times her survival depended upon mere seconds. Now, unexpectedly, her life stood long before her, full—full of questions, questions she had no idea how to answer.

  Annabeth had just spoken with King Fredric and then with King Harold. Their plans for her were incredible, and she felt overwhelmed, honored, and unworthy.

  “Annabeth?” It was Song Lark’s voice at the flap of her tent.

  “Come in,” she invited. “How are you, Song Lark?”

  “Much better than you are, I think,” he answered, strumming the strings of his lute.

  “I have a feeling you’re right. I haven’t the faintest clue of what I should do.”

  Song Lark chuckled and patted her cheek affectionately. “You’ll figure it out. But I have come to say my farewell.”

  “You’re leaving?” Annabeth exclaimed in dismay. “You can’t leave; not yet.”

  “I don’t dare stay any longer. My lute is longing to be played, and my feet are itching to be on the road.”

  “I half wish I could go with you.”

  “Why would you want to do a thing like that?”

  Annabeth sighed and sagged back onto her cot. “I am tired. I want—I want... I don’t know what I want.”

  “You want to get away from everything you’ve known, is that it? But to get away from everything you have ever known seems disloyal and untrue, and so unlike yourself, you don’t know what to do.”

  “But I don’t want to leave forever. I just—” Annabeth sighed.

  “You’ll figure it out, Annabeth,” he said, patting her head. “But for now, farewell!” Strumming the strings of his lute, he made a cadenced step out of the tent, singing with all of his heart.

  I once knew a maid

  Who carried a blade

  Oh hey nonie nonie na no.

  I once knew a man

  Who had no plan

  Oh hey nonie nonie na no.

  Together they fought

  And a victory wrought

  Oh hey nonie nonie na no.

  ...

  And Song Lark and his verses were gone.

  Annabeth walked to the far side of her tent. She mustn’t run. She had gotten so used to running it almost felt a part of her, but then again, it wasn’t what she wanted.

  What did she really, truly want? It came to her mind, but she shoved it aside as impossible. Ransom’s face had flashed before her in her mind’s eye. It wasn’t really possible. She turned around, only to start in surprise.

  “Oh, hello, Eliot. Can I do something for you?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “You didn’t frighten me. I was just startled, that’s all.”

  Eliot’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Of course. I called out twice, but when I didn’t get an answer I thought I would come in.”

  “I am sorry; my mind was elsewhere.”

  “You needn’t apologize. It is I who has come to apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “Can you really be so forgiving to a man who captured you and put you on the rack? Not only that, but turned it and did this?” he said, touching her shoulder.

  “You were only doing what you thought you had to. It was your job. You had to make him believe you. If you hadn’t, I still might be down there and most likely dead.”

  “I don’t know about that. I have never seen a girl fight like you have.”

  “I gave up down there. I wouldn’t have made it out without...” She let her words trail off into silence.

  “Ransom is a good man. We trained together when the king hired us for his service. There are few men I admire more than him.”

  She nodded in agreement, still feeling silent and puzzled by what she was struggling with in the back of her mind.

  “Annabeth. I am sorry for what I did; I truly regret it. Please, forgive me.”

  “I already have. You are forgiven,” she said, offering him her hand.

  He took it with a smile tweaking the corners of his mouth. “It has been an honor to know you, and I hope that if you decide to become my king’s ward that I will see you often.”

  “Did he make you come here to try to convince me?”

  Eliot’s eyes smiled quietly. “No. I just wanted to make sure I would not be a roadblock in your decision making. Your choices are difficult ones.”

  “Yes, they are. Thank you for coming. I appreciate it.”

  “It was my privilege and honor.”

  Just then, Prince Alfred came bursting through the tent door. “Annabeth!” He stopped short on seeing Eliot. His posture bristled.

  “What are you doing here?” accused Prince Alfred, his eyes sparking with slowly warming anger.

  “Is it customary for you to come bursting into a young lady’s tent like that?”

  “What right have you to correct me?”

  “And what right have you to come barging in here?”

  “That is none of your business. I demand an apology. No, on second thought, I think you should apologize to Annabeth for putting her on the rack!” Prince Alfred growled.

  “Alfred, please.”

  “Annabeth, do you have any idea who this man is?”

  “I am not so daft in my head that I do not know the man who played my captor.”

  “He did more than play it, Anna. This man here put you on the rack and twisted until he dislocated your shoulder.”

  “I am perfectly aware of that, your highness.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “Please, Alf, stop.”

  “Annabeth!”

  “She asked you to stop, your highness. Why don’t you honor her wishes?” interrupted Eliot.

  “You stay out of this. It concerns Anna and me—not you.”

  “I am afraid it does. I am standing here, and the conversation is about me.”

  Prince Alfred glared at him dangerously.

  “Alf, please, let it be for now. What did you want to see me about?”

  “I came to see if you had made up your mind yet.”

  Annabeth sighed and let her shoulders sag. “I haven’t. Not yet.”

  “Well, I am just letting you know there is a place for you always in Lady Christina’s and my court.”

  “You and Christina?”

  “Yes. Our court,” he said with a smile. “Father finalized that while you were ill. We spent so much time together that...we fell in love.”

  Annabeth suddenly felt baffled beyond anything she had ever felt. “Congratulations,” she managed at l
ast. “I wish you the greatest joy in all the world. You deserve it.”

  “Thank you, Annabeth. Now do say yes and add to our joy. Please. Christina and I have talked it over, and she desperately wants you to be one of her ladies in waiting.”

  “I don’t know, Alfred. I will really have to think about it, and I am feeling very tired right now, so if you don’t mind...”

  “Of course. Think about it as long as you need to.”

  “I will.”

  “Thank you, Annabeth.”

  “Aren’t you going to apologize for just bursting in here?” asked Eliot, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes challenging the prince.

  “Annabeth is a friend of mine. I have committed no crime, and I certainly don’t intend to take advice from a man such as yourself. If you ask me, Anna shouldn’t even consider any sort of proposal from a country that can hurt her like that. Your king and your country put her on the rack.”

  “Alfred, they also rescued me. Besides, my father and King Harold became good friends. Please don’t speak of it.”

  “Fine. I won’t, but I still think this man has much to answer for.”

  “He has apologized, your highness. Now please leave off quarreling. It is all over and done with.”

  “All right, if that is what you really want...but I still think that...”

  “My king has nothing to do with this mess. My orders came directly from your father, Prince Alfred. He told me do whatever needed to be done. He gave me the orders to help Raburn find Annabeth and bring her in.”

  “My father would never do any such thing!”

  “Your father has just come from a battlefield where he has seen worse things happen.”

  “My father would never give such an order.”

  “Then ask him yourself.”

  “Tell me why your king said he gave the order.”

  “He knew you wouldn’t understand your father.”

  “You are a liar!”