Always Golden

by Gina Dickerson

  Muffled voices could be heard from the floor below. One Oriana recognised as belonging to Mairsile, and a second which sounded male. Checking her reflection in a mirror on the wall, she was relieved to find the dye had taken to her hair just as Mairsile had predicted. Although her hair was not as dark as the dye water itself, it was now a muddy, pale brown colour. There was a faint tide mark around her hair line and she did her best to scrub it off.

  Outside wind whistled, rumbling around the wooden house and making it creak. Heavy, pregnant balls of rain splattered against the bathroom window until the splatters gave way to a torrent as a storm took hold, sheeting rainwater against the house so hard it made looking through the windows to the outside impossible. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, illuminating the bathroom and casting Oriana’s shadow long and thin.

  It was now or never.

  A clap of thunder made Oriana jump and she left the bathroom, slowly descending the stairs, her footsteps muffled by the clatter of the storm. The house shook and Oriana paused on the stairs, clutching the handrail in fear. Was the storm a bad omen? Would she be caught?

  No, she told herself, after all, how many of King Hashir’s soldiers would recognise her without her blonde hair?

  It was not as if they had been her father’s soldiers and would recognise her face. She had to hope these soldiers, these soldiers who defended a monster, didn’t know what she looked like. Besides, dressed in the riding trousers and tunic, she looked far from a princess.

  The light from the kitchen lantern was still the sole illumination downstairs bar the odd flash of lightning. Mairsile was crying at the end of the kitchen, her parents’ bodies still on the floor, as Oriana drew up in the doorway.

  A tall man, dressed in dark trousers matching his armour, and with lightly curled, equally dark hair, had his back to the door. Oriana could not help but cringe once he turned around to face her.

  ‘So, the burns are terrible,’ he said wryly. ‘I knew it.’

  Oriana lowered her gaze. Something in the man’s searing green eyes unsettled her yet unable to stop them, her eyes slid back up of their own volition. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, breaking into an uncharacteristic blush. ‘I did not mean to be rude.’

  The man reached her in two strides. ‘It is I who have been rude. I’ve not even introduced myself. I am Commander Vilas De-Leal.’

  Oriana’s heart jumped into her throat. Sickness washed over her and, unable to stop herself, she swayed forwards.

  ‘Steady.’ Vilas grabbed Oriana’s elbow. ‘I’m not here to harm you, do not worry yourself.’

  At his contact, Oriana shivered. ‘De-Leal?’ she managed to ask.

  Vilas nodded as he guided Oriana onto a chair. ‘You have heard of me?’

  Oriana kept her gaze lowered. ‘Of your father. Anearr.’

  Vilas’ voice was strained. ‘Of course, you are King Germaine’s subject. You would have heard the tales about my father from Germaine’s court.’

  Not knowing how to respond without incriminating herself, Oriana kept quiet. She felt a light touch on her shoulder as Mairsile pressed against her and she laid her own hand over the girl’s trembling one.

  Vilas cleared his throat. ‘I will have my soldiers bury your parents immediately.’

  Mairsile started to cry again.

  Oriana squeezed the young girl’s hand before releasing it and rising to face Vilas. ‘Why go to the bother? It was your men who killed them in the first place.’

  It did not matter they weren’t really her parents, Oriana thought. They had been parents; they had had a life, a child, a future which had been torn from them leaving behind a frightened, orphaned girl.

  ‘How many more families have you and your soldiers decimated today? Would you have all of them buried by their murderers? Seems like a kick in the teeth to the survivors if you ask me.’

  Vilas rested his hand on the top of his sword. Oriana swallowed nervously, looking from his large hand to the defined set of his jaw.

  Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut?

  ‘The soldiers who killed your parents were not under my command.’ Vilas dropped his hand from his sword. ‘They were under command of my father and King Acapf at the time. None of my men will harm Innocents. We fight soldiers, not farmers or children.’

  ‘Why should we believe you?’ Oriana blurted out, unable to stop herself. ‘You all wear the same armour, all bear the same shield.’

  Vilas closed the gap between him and Oriana. ‘What other choice do you have than to trust my word? My men are outside, which is where they will remain unless I invite them in. We are not monsters, Miss, just soldiers who follow orders.’

  ‘No,’ Oriana snapped. ‘The monsters are your kings!’

  Vilas arched an eyebrow. ‘Kings? Surely you mean king.’

  ‘Of course!’ Oriana replied hastily realising if she were truly a farmer’s daughter who had been stuck out here she would not yet have known about Acapf’s demise. Word would not have spread that fast during the takeover. ‘I meant King Acapf. It is his coat of arms you wear on your armour.’

  ‘Hashir is king now,’ said Vilas, telling Oriana what she already knew. ‘Acapf is dead.’

  ‘They are both as bad as each other!’ Heat flushed Oriana’s cheeks, this time with anger.

  Vilas folded his arms across his chest. ‘Hashir may be his father’s son in name but he is far from the same as his father. He will be a good king.’

  ‘King Germaine was a good king!’ Angry tears stung Oriana’s eyes.

  ‘You will need to change your tune if you favour your freedom,’ Vilas advised.

  ‘Ah ha!’ Oriana cried. ‘So Hashir is just like his father...no-one can speak their mind for fear of losing their head!’

  ‘No-one will be losing their head while I am commander of the king’s army.’

  ‘You think it was right, do you? What Hashir and his father did to King Germaine’s realm, to his people?’

  Vilas sighed. ‘It is not my place to question what is right or wrong. Where there are different kingdoms there will always be bloodshed.’

  Oriana laughed. ‘I bet you killed people today...innocent people!’

  Vilas shook his head. ‘I fought other soldiers, I did not spill one drop of innocent blood.’

  Mairsile pressed against Oriana again. ‘Calm down,’ she said, before pointedly adding, ‘Sister.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me your names.’ Vilas uncrossed his arms.

  Oriana stared at him, her mind blank.

  ‘I’m Mairsile,’ Mairsile replied hurriedly. ‘And this is my sister.’

  ‘Yes,’ Vilas replied patiently. ‘We have established you are sisters. Well.’ He looked at Oriana, catching her gaze in his. ‘What is your name?’

  Oriana could not think. Her mouth refused to open.

  ‘Her name’s Maerie,’ said Mairsile.

  ‘Mairsile and Maerie,’ Vilas said slowly, still eyeing Oriana. ‘I will ask my men to bury the bodies, you can show them where you wish the graves to be.’

  Oriana’s lips loosened. Vilas did not know who she was. He had not recognised her. Her disguise must be halfway decent. She concealed a smile. ‘Why are you here?’

  Vilas strode to the window and gazed out into the darkness. ‘King Hashir has ordered me to find the princess Oriana.’

  ‘And then what?’ Oriana squeezed Mairsile’s hand as the girl slipped her hand into hers again, clutching it tightly.

  Vilas’ shoulders stiffened. ‘I am to persuade her to return to the castle.’

  ‘So she can be a trophy for the king?’ Mairsile asked. She made a face as Vilas turned and eyed her sharply. ‘My father told me King Acapf and his son collect things.’

  ‘Hashir does want the princess but not as a trophy. She has a certain unique quality the king desires.’

  Her Hair. Oriana swallowed nervously. It had to be.

  ‘The princess cannot have gone far; we believe she is still in the woods. My men w
ill scour the grounds until she is found but with this storm the search will have to wait, any tracks will have already have washed away. The princess could not continue in this weather on foot. There is no doubt she will be holed up in a sheltered hollow somewhere until the storm passes so it makes sense for us to do the same.’ Vilas looked at Oriana. ‘I ask for shelter from you, until our search is through. The men will sleep in the barn, I will desire a room if you would be so kind.’

  ‘I hope it won’t be for long. We have things we need to see to. We have had to make plans rapidly since your army first rode through here. Mairsile will need someone to watch over her once you and your men have moved on because I will be leaving also. Mairsile will not be able to manage the farm on her own.’

  Vilas’ eyes narrowed. ‘Why will you be leaving? Why aren’t you staying?’

  Mairsile said, ‘Maerie must tell our distant family about the death of our parents. She will need to travel and will be away a long time.’

  Oriana picked up the lie. ‘And there are no other family members near to help Mairsile. I will have to find someone here, nearby, who would be willing to look after her while I am away. I was hoping to ride out and ask the farmer across the way this evening but you turned up.’

  ‘Pass me a piece of paper.’ Vilas indicated to Mairsile. ‘I will write you a letter which you can take to the castle. Once you are inside, ask for Anatina, she will provide you with a room and you can join the other children at the school. You will be free to live there until your sister returns from her travels.’

  ‘But—’ Mairsile protested.

  ‘But nothing, Sister,’ Oriana said firmly. ‘You will be safe at the castle.’ She glanced at Vilas. ‘Won’t she?’

  ‘You have my word. I will have one of my men take her there immediately so there will be no delay when we both leave. Please, Child, bring me the paper I asked for, and fetch yourself a cloak.’

  ‘Do as you’re asked.’ Oriana gently pushed Mairsile away. ‘Bring the commander a piece of paper and ink.’

  Oriana could feel Vilas’ eyes on her, running across every inch of her body. She fidgeted, the thin layer of clothing not defence enough against the commander’s gaze as she lowered her own. The hairs on her arms prickled as goose-bumps exploded over her skin. She rubbed her arms to stop the tingling. When she dared to look up Vilas was still studying her. She smiled, her traitorous pulse quickening as he lifted one corner of his mouth in a half smile.

  ‘I’m sure this is most dull for you,’ Oriana said. ‘Having to deal with the likes of us after all of the action you must have seen today.’

  ‘Dull is not a word I would associate with you.’

  ‘Come, come, there’s no need to tease. I imagine you would rather be in a warm tavern somewhere, with a tankard of your favourite drink in one hand and a beautiful woman perched upon your knee, Commander.’

  Vilas waited until Mairsile had returned with a piece of paper and ink before speaking again. ‘Please, call me Vilas, Maerie.’

  Oriana did not realise he was talking to her until Mairsile pointedly prodded her in the side.

  ‘Okay. Vilas it is,’ Mairsile replied. ‘You can remember that, can’t you, Maerie?’

  Feeling a blush threatening to colour her cheeks Oriana forced herself to remember who this man really was. Despite the almost hypnotic quality of his voice, and his chiselled features which were made more appealing by the vulnerability of his wounds, she must not forget he was Hashir’s soldier. She nodded in response to Mairsile and studied Vilas as he wrote, searching for any semblance of his father. Unable to find any she could not help but again admire him. Even with his burns he was handsome, more so than any other man she had laid eyes upon, and even more than Hashir with his striking blond beauty.

  What a shame Vilas was on the wrong side.

  What a shame he was a cold-bloodied, order-taking-mass-murderer.

  ‘Here.’ Vilas signed his name with a flourish and handed the paper to Mairsile. ‘Pack anything you wish to take and I will arrange an escort and a horse for you. Where shall I instruct the graves to be dug?’ He looked to Oriana.

  Oriana shook her head. ‘Mairsile should decide, this will be her home.’

  Mairsile took in a long, noisy breath. ‘In the orchard behind the barn. It is pretty there.’

  ‘Do you wish to kiss your parents before they are buried?’ Vilas asked.

  Mairsile’s bottom lip trembled but she nodded. Oriana followed the young girl as she slowly made her way to the bodies. Mairsile’s knees buckled and Oriana grabbed her elbows, gently lifting Mairsile to her feet.

  ‘I can’t do it!’ Mairsile sobbed. ‘Not while they look like that!’

  ‘You must,’ Oriana replied, thinking of her own parents, of the pain she had felt upon seeing their headless bodies. ‘If you don’t, you will regret it for ever.’

  ‘But I can’t even see their faces!’

  From the doorway, Vilas coughed. ‘I’ll wait in the hallway to give you both some privacy.’

  Oriana nodded briefly, crouching with Mairsile by the bodies. Crying, Mairsile leant over first her mother and then her father, kissing each of the backs of their heads.

  ‘Let us pack you a bag,’ Oriana said, gesturing for Mairsile to leave the kitchen. ‘You should not be in here when the bodies are moved.’

  Vilas grabbed Oriana’s arm as she passed him. ‘You will not kiss your parents goodbye?’ His emerald eyes were unreadable in the gloominess of the hallway.

  Oriana stiffened. ‘So much for giving us privacy. You were watching the whole time.’ She stared at Vilas’ hand on her arm. ‘Do you mind?’

  Vilas’ grip relaxed and he slowly moved his hand down Oriana’s forearm, resting his fingers against the exposed skin of her wrist where her pulse was before releasing her. ‘You will not be leaving on your travels tonight, will you?’

  Oriana thought of escape. With Mairsile dispensed off to the castle it would be the easiest thing in the world for her to say yes. ‘With Mairsile leaving there is no reason for me not to.’

  Vilas strode to the front door and opened it. ‘It’s torrential out there. How long do you need to travel until you reach the warmth of a fire to dry off?’

  Oriana did not know how to respond.

  She must leave, this was her chance. Why wouldn’t her brain function properly?

  Vilas closed the front door. ‘You shall leave in the morning, if the storm has lessened.’

  ‘If the storm is so fearsome shouldn’t Mairsile wait until morning? It’s not like she’s waterproof.’

  ‘Mairsile will not be riding far. She will be at the castle in less than half an hour and there will be plenty of fires for her to dry herself by.’ Vilas towered over Oriana. ‘I would not be a gentleman if I allowed you to tramp off into the night. Besides, you have no reason to leave right now, your sister will be well looked after at the castle. You said you were venturing out this night to find someone to watch over her, now there is no need for you to do so.’

  ‘How do you know I wouldn’t be riding off as well instead of walking?’

  Vilas laughed. ‘Mairsile will be on a soldier’s horse. There is only an old cart horse in the stable and he would not serve you well for travelling any great distance.’

  Oriana’s breath caught in the back of her throat as Vilas reached for a still damp lock of her hair.

  ‘Besides,’ he said. ‘We both need to dry off before venturing out again. Maybe I was not the only one caught out in the rain. The storm has chased me from the castle.’

  Oriana swallowed.

  Time slowed.

  Think. Think!

  ‘I was bathing,’ she said slowly. ‘And so the water would not be wasted I used it to wash a few dresses.’

  Vilas’ fingertips grazed Oriana’s cheek as he dropped the lock of her hair. ‘What a shame I did not arrive earlier.’

  Despite herself, Oriana laughed. ‘Very amusing.’

  ‘It wasn’t meant to
be amusing.’ Vilas’ gaze was unwavering. ‘I think you in a bath may be something I would have liked to have seen.’

  For a moment Oriana wondered if he had guessed about her hair dyeing incident, until Vilas winked and relief washed over her.

  No, he didn’t know, she thought, he was just trying to charm her.

  Making her way to the stairs Oriana raised an eyebrow. ‘Flattery will get you nowhere!’

  Chapter Five

  Oriana

  ‘I don’t want to go to the castle!’ Mairsile closed the door to her bedroom after she had ushered Oriana inside. She had lit a tiny candle on the top of her dresser and its flame chased the nearest of the shadows away. ‘Not with the horrible king there!’

  Oriana, already rummaging through the drawers and pulling out clothes, sighed. ‘I know you don’t but I think it is for the best. You cannot stay here. Not on your own, it isn’t safe for a young girl of your age. When the storm has passed, I will leave. I was telling the truth about that.’

  Mairsile stamped her foot. ‘I want to go with you!’

  Oriana threw the clothes she had selected onto the small bed in the middle of the room. ‘You can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I don’t know if I can look after myself, let alone someone else. I’ve never been alone.’

  ‘Will you come with me instead?’ Mairsile started folding up the clothes Oriana had chosen. ‘No-one should recognise you with your dyed hair and what you’re wearing. You don’t look like royalty.’

  ‘I can’t go with you. There are people still in my father’s castle who will recognise me no matter how I am dressed.’ Oriana smiled wryly. ‘It’s funny, I will be safer here with Hashir’s commander than anywhere else. Vilas will never suspect the princess he is hunting is right here, under his nose.’

  Mairsile flung her arms around Oriana. ‘I hope he doesn’t!’ She sniffed. ‘What will you do when the soldiers have given up looking for you?’