by Jane Henry
“Yes, little one. You rest now.”
I nod, pretending to be half asleep. “My head hurts,” I lie. “I am going to rest as much as I can today.”
“Then I shall not bother you,” he says. He has fallen for it. “I shall return as soon as I can. Remember, in my absence you obey those I have left to watch over you.”
“Yes, my lord,” I murmur sleepily. “I am…” I yawn for emphasis, “so tired.”
With another gentle kiss, he tucks the blanket around me. “I shall instruct them to allow you ample rest before disturbing you,” he says. “In my absence, you will be allowed access to the library and gardens. Enjoy them, and take this as a time to rest. I will return.”
I nod. He leaves the room. I listen attentively, my own instincts now on high alert. I can hear him meeting with his men in the hallway, the low, murmured voices. Someone will be coming in the room to stand guard any moment.
Quickly, I drop to the floor, lifting the extra blanket and fashioning a decoy on the bed, pulling the blankets high enough so that none of my hair would be visible if I were indeed the one in bed. I crawl on all fours, crouched down, and lift the edge of the carpet. For one brief moment, I fear the key has been discovered, before I feel the cold metal graze my fingers. I crawl to the open door between my room and his. In my room, where Lystava bathed me, is the narrow passageway that exits to the garden. The door, as I suspected, is now locked tight. I slip the key in, turn the handle, and push the door, then shut it behind me.
I am in the garden now, the chill of the morning air causing me to shiver. I have seen several servant robes in the shed in the garden, hung there to be worn when a servant needs greater coverage in the morning, or when the rains fall. I grab the robe, pull it on quickly, and pick up a basket. Now I could be mistaken for merely a servant, gathering eggs or milking the animals in the stables.
Just a short distance away, I hear the men assembling at the gate. There is a large mass of men, and I see him, my king, the tallest one with the broadest shoulders, sitting upon his horse at the very front of the line. His chin is lifted, his regal face drawing the attention of the crowd. I allow myself one moment to admire his strength and power, beautiful to behold, as all the eyes of the men assembled in front of him are now on him. There are servants flanking him on either side, and this is how I will disguise myself, so that I am not seen. No longer wearing the king’s blue, I draw no attention to myself as I quickly fall into line with the servants traveling by foot.
They begin processing, servants holding flickering torches in the cool darkness of early morning. There is little talk, but murmured voices, as we go deep into the forest, past the home of the Wise One, past where I had left my bag and device, deeper still to where the portals between worlds lies. They are heavily guarded, and it is often discouraged to allow travelers en masse, but today there is an urgency.
“Fall in line,” a man says, holding a hand up to the servants I travel with. I must pretend I belong here. I watch as the soldiers go first, in groups of three, then the servants who attend them line up. There are fewer going than I had originally thought. It seems the others are merely escorts.
Panic begins to rise. Perhaps it is best I hide, then access the portal alone, but decide I can best hide my identity if I pretend to be one of them. I watch as a small group of servants directly in front of me enters the passageway for the portal. Eyes are suddenly on me. I discreetly stick a foot out, tripping one, who falls to the side, on her arm. She yelps, and her companion helps her up.
“So sorry,” I mutter, but the man in charge herding the servants to the portal is growing impatient.
“Ten!” he shouts. “Ten at a time!”
Confusion reigns as I planned. Ducking my head, I quickly step toward the group entering the portal, just in time. He counts rapidly, then waves his hand at what looks like a small silver button. I have made it, the chaos behind me making the guard grow impatient. Immediately, the world around me darkens, quiet descends, and we are being transported. My heart beats an excited rhythm, now that I’ve made it thus far, my deception near complete. When the silvery gleam of our transportation begins to wane, my eyes adjust to Freanoss.
I must keep my bearings, my head down, as it is every bit as dangerous for me to be seen now as it was before our departure. There are dozens of soldiers and only a small group of servants, so I quickly step to the left, pulling my hood up. I duck to the side and walk quickly to a stone wall that separates the Nature Habitat from Production, two distinct locations on Freanoss. At first, I know not where the king is leading his people, but I suspect his sister will be at the holding station. I move quickly, ignoring the desire I have within me now to run to my king. I must keep him from knowing I am here.
I am unsettled here on Freanoss. There is no one here for me. Unlike the vibrant land of Avalere, Freanoss now looks so sterile, so bare. A pang of remorse hits me, but I push it away. I have work to do.
I duck behind a half-wall between the Habitat and Production, and from where I stand I can see the Avalerian commanding officers. We have not yet been approached by Freanossian soldiers. It seems we have caught them unawares, as the officers are preparing to advance upon the holding station. Their position now confirms that the king’s sister is indeed where I suspected.
Ahead of me, I sneak quickly behind two robed servants, and scurry to where I can be hidden within the confines of the holding station. I step quickly in front of two soldiers whose backs are turned, and race through a doorway at the station.
I crouch behind another half-wall in the room where she is being held. To my surprise, I see her right away. She has the same fierce eyes and dark skin as her brother, though her brown hair is ragged and unkempt. They have hurt her. Whatever residual feelings I’ve had for the Freanossians flee at the sight of her, clearly abused. Fury makes my hands shake as I recall the mantra of my people:
We are one body. We are one people. Together, we will conquer darkness and rise as one.
It was a lie. It has all been a lie.
One man comes into the room and slams the door. I crouch behind the lookout tower, trying my best to be sure I am unseen.
“They have come for you, Princess,” he spits out. “I know not why the Avalerians think so highly of someone of little worth like you,” he scoffs.
“I am the princess,” she says through gritted teeth. “Of course they come for me.”
My own memory of when the Freanossians did not come for me fills me with remorse, but I shove those feelings down. I am not here to return to Freanoss. I am not here to even mourn what once was. I am here because I will aid my Aldric.
Just a short time earlier and I’d have agreed with this guard that such archaic notions as Princess and King were useless, but now I only see him as a bully. My king would destroy this weak, pale guard. How could I have ever felt allegiance to Freanoss? I look around at the sterile room, and out the window at the barren lands, so empty compared to the lush forests and gardens of Avalere.
“They approach,” the guard says with a wicked smile. I wonder that he does not look afraid. The Avalerian warriors are trained in battle. They are stronger, fiercer, and the guard seems outnumbered. At his station, there are only two other guards, and a casual glance below does not show he is heavily flanked. But then the reason for his smugness becomes apparent.
“He has fallen for our trap,” he says. “Whereas your people rely on brute strength and force, we have far more reliable methods.”
The princess’s eyes widen slightly, though she still does not show fear.
“When we rid your precious Avalere of your king, you will know we are not to be trifled with.”
“We never trifled with you,” she says.
He merely shrugs. “Then the king’s death is but a cautionary measure. You have what we need, and we will take it.” He scowls. Lies, all lies. I was told that they were the ones stealing from us, when the opposite was true all along. “Your barbaric ways are
useless to those of higher learning and purpose.”
My stomach churns with his words because it was not long ago that I believed them myself. To my right, my eye catches a small box of weapons—knives and tasers, the choice weapons of Freanoss. I take one of each, and tuck them into the band at my waist.
I hear a clatter of noises, and look out from where I stand. The Avalerian soldiers are here, and my king rides tall and proud in front of them. My heart thumps.
Don’t go, I want to warn him. It’s a trap. My breath catches in my throat. I do not wish for him to be harmed. He must not be harmed. I watch as the soldiers are led to the door nearly unencumbered, until a guard steps out in front. They exchange a few words, and my king lifts his head and hand in warning. His large hand falls, cuing the attack. His men charge the building, but mere seconds later, a blinding flash knocks them all from their horses. I know this weapon, not merely a blinding light but nerve stimulators that cause intense pain.
I watch in horror as his men grip their heads and stomachs, the pain from the Freanossian defense crippling the Avalerians. How will they rally? But my king is already up, mounting his horse again. He rides on, and I lose sight of him. I creep along a dark corridor to where I can watch. I need to get to him. I need to find him. To a Freanossian, the nerve stimulator would be crippling, but it appears the Freanossians have underestimated the fortitude of the Avalerians.
I go toward the sound of clashing metal, down a stairway that leads to the entry hall. I gasp as Aldric enters. He has dismounted from his horse and is brandishing his sword.
“Stand back!” one guard says, standing in front of him, but he ignores the protests. Though they seemed prepared to take him under protection while he was handicapped, it appears their plan is not working. I gasp as a guard shoots a taser at him, but still, he deflects the beam and charges them.
“Where is she?” he growls. “We do not wish to declare war on Freanoss if we are given what belongs to us. My sister is here, and you will return her safely. The fabricated accusations of Avalerian theft are no longer useful to you; neither is holding my sister hostage. Give her up.”
The soldier frowns. “You have what belongs to us, too, do you not?”
The king glares. “She no longer belongs to you,” he protests, and I suddenly realize they are talking about me. “She broke the law and is subject to ownership by me. She is also aware that you did not come for her, and had no interest in recovering her.”
“Oh, we had an interest in recovering the woman,” says the man with a leer. “She had one of our communication devices. They are rare, you know.”
The king’s eyes flash, and I fear he is going to cut the man’s head from his neck, but he ignores the insult. I swallow, my eyes shutting briefly, absorbing the pain.
“What you don’t know is that she’s come,” says the guard. “She is here, the woman of Freanoss you claim as yours, and because she has left your planet, she is free to return to Freanoss, if she chooses.”
The blood runs cold in my veins. How do they know?
The king looks furious. “She is here?” he whispers, momentarily taken off guard.
“Certainly,” the guard says. “Did you not know she would come to aid you? We thought perhaps she was ordered by you to come.”
The king scowls. “Unlike the cowards of Freanoss, we do not order our women to do the work we are too weak to do ourselves,” he growls. He raises his voice. “Carina!” he shouts, calling to me.
I am known, my presence no longer a secret. But I will not come. I will not betray my position to the Freanossians while my king still needs me.
“She does not have to obey your bidding, King,” scoffs the man. “She has returned to her people.”
And with that, my king has had enough. He charges the man, who ducks and misses his charge by a mere fraction of an inch, as they attempt to shoot him again. He somehow deflects each laser.
I must get to him. I scurry down the stairs, no longer caring who sees me. I can defend myself if need be.
“Carina!” the king says, and with the momentary attention diverted from the men he’s attacking, his eyes go to me. The distraction is long enough for one man to hit the king with a blunt object, some type of club. I scream with rage as my king suffers the blow. When I reach him, I take the taser I have stolen from the room above and shoot it directly at his assailant, who crumples to the floor. But before I can shoot again, I feel someone’s hands on me, fingers wrapped around my neck. I try to scream, but my words are frozen. With a shout of rage, Aldric slashes at the man holding me. With a gargled scream, the man falls to the floor, stained with crimson blood.
“Hit the silver cable!” I shout to Aldric. “It disables their hold on your men!”
The guard to his left screams in rage and shoots, but he deflects once more, slamming the butt of his weapon on the silver cable I know holds his men. Moments later, the soldiers of Avalere enter. The weaker, more cowardly men of Freanoss crouch behind columns and chairs as the fierce warriors of Avalere attack, their weapons drawn.
I can hardly bear to watch as man after man falls, slashes of swords and clinging of armor ringing in the small room. Now that the main weapons of Freanoss have been disabled, the Avalerians have the clear advantage.
“Come!” I shout to Aldric. “I know where your sister is, and you must get her while you can!”
He follows me, quickly coming to my side, grabbing my hand while we mount the stairs. “You reckless, disobedient little girl,” he says with a growl. “When I get you back home with me, I will punish you so soundly you won’t sit for a week.”
I thrill at his words, though I clench a bit at the promised punishment.
When I get you home.
Home.
We come to where his sister is being held. The cowards who were holding her fled when their devices were disabled. She stands when Aldric enters the room, her eyes widening in shock.
“Come,” he orders, grabbing her by the hand, and tugging her along with me. “The two women I love more than life itself,” he growls. “Putting themselves in harm’s way. Better to be tied to their beds than allowed freedom to roam and hurt themselves.” His sister’s eyes meet mine and we smile even as we run.
Aldric calls his men to him. There are no more Freanoss soldiers remaining standing. He raises his sword, and they prepare to regroup. “Battle has not ended,” he says, but I shake my head and tug his hand.
“No, my lord,” I insist. His eyes look at me, narrowing but curious. “That is not the way of the Freanossians. As… with me,” I say, faltering, “a fallen soldier of Freanoss is a nonentity. The powers that be will remove their existence from the records and hide this battle. They will not attack, as they know they have lost. They will retreat, now that you have clear victory and have reclaimed your sister.”
He scowls. “How do I know this to be true?”
I raise my chin. “You don’t. You only have my word for it.” But I know that what I say is true. The Freanossians have no fierce loyalty like those of Avalere. They only wish to progress, and progress at this point will mean wiping this loss from memory and expending no more energy or time on battle. He must believe me. I need him to trust me, as I do him.
“Very well,” he says, and my heart soars. He commands his men, and they all march in formation back to the portal. It is time for us to return to Avalere.
He believes me, and I am going home.
Everyone lines up and Aldric lifts his sister upon a horse one of his men holds by the reigns.
“You,” he says, shaking his head at me. “You will answer for this.”
I scowl at him. “For saving you?” I say.
His eyes narrow. “For putting yourself at risk. For disobeying me.”
I freeze. “And what if I wish to not return?” I ask.
He pauses, before turning to his soldiers and commanding Idan to take everyone back to the portal.
“We need a moment,” he says, pulling
me away from his men. He pulls me close to him and lifts my chin with the tip of his finger. “What is this, Carina? Do you wish to stay here on Freanoss?” His eyes are hurt but honest, probing me. “My little one, you came to me as my property. I have been harsh with you, but it was for your own good, for your own protection. This is how my people show their mates that they have value.”
His voice drops. “And if you choose to stay with me, I will continue to be who I am. I will treasure your allegiance to me. I will never allow anything to harm you. But I no longer wish to force your allegiance. If you desire freedom, then I will allow you to go.” He pauses. “My Carina, I release you of your obligation.” He turns and looks back from where we just came. Freanoss. “But after we leave, the portal between the two worlds will be closed forever.”
I gulp, looking up at him. My momentary bravado fails me, now that I am so close to him. My throat is tight, my palms sweaty, as I reach for him.
“Aldric,” I whisper.
He takes my hand to his mouth hungrily, kissing each tip of my finger. “I do not wish to have you with me caged, Carina. I wish for you to be with me of your own accord. I am freeing you, little one.”
Free? Is there freedom on Freanoss? Where I mean nothing to anyone? Where my own human inclinations have been stripped from me? Freedom is merely an illusion. This I now know. I shake my head.
I didn’t know what it was like to belong with anyone, to anyone… until I belonged to him.
“And if I go with you?” I whisper.
His eyes heat, his nostrils flare, and he pulls me to him so tightly it hurts. “Then I will vow my allegiance to you all the days of my life,” he whispers. “I will protect you, and lead you, and demand your obedience to me as your lord.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “But you will do so as my freely chosen mate.”
I close my eyes. “Take me with you,” I whisper, allowing myself to feel the warmth of his embrace, bathed in the knowledge of how precious I am to him. My heart yearns to be close to his.
