The Princess Fugitive: A Reimagining of Little Red Riding Hood (The Four Kingdoms Book 2)

by Melanie Cellier

  With a sigh, Hans handed her his satchel. Then, with a nod of his head, he turned and was gone, quickly swallowed up by the shadows.

  Chapter 2

  Ava took the opposite direction, both satchels slung across her shoulders. At each corner she stopped and listened carefully for footsteps or breathing before peering cautiously around. Part of her knew that she was unlikely to be stopped. It was unthinkable that her father would have announced his plans for her assassination. She wondered briefly what story he intended to give the court.

  A foreign assassin, perhaps? Another reason to start a war.

  A rogue courtier? Another reason to tighten control in Rangmere.

  The thoughts were strangely comforting. Cold detachment and logic were familiar friends. The rush of emotions that had overwhelmed her in her chambers was gone and the underlying fear was tucked away, hidden where it didn’t interfere with her functioning.

  The familiarity of the dark corridors helped. Ava had always loved the castle. As a child she had imagined that it had its own personality and consciousness. It was a friendly companion during her many night-time wanderings. After her grandmother’s disappearance, it was the most welcoming presence in her often lonely life.

  She knew now that such thoughts were foolish but the old homely feelings still lingered, tinting her adult perceptions. She knew the castle so well that she didn’t need light to guide her and when she finally did hear the sound of quiet steps, she swung around and disappeared into a storage cupboard without needing to consciously think of a hiding place.

  She held her breath and listened to the footsteps recede. She then forced herself to count slowly to one hundred before she eased herself back into the corridor. The waiting had increased her tension and she had to restrain the impulse to hurry and make up lost ground.

  When you hurry, you make mistakes. She could hear her father’s voice in her mind. Just another one of his endless lessons. Every action should be deliberate. When you move with speed it should be planned, the result of knowing that, in that moment, speed is your most effective and efficient weapon. He was big on weapons, the King of Rangmere.

  Well, it’s backfired on you now, Father, she thought mirthlessly. You’ve trained me to be a weapon and now you’re finding I’m not so easy to kill.

  It was actually strangely wasteful, to pour so much effort and training into someone, only to decide they were more useful dead. She could only assume it was a result of her failure in Arcadia. King Josef didn’t take failure lightly.

  And to think, if it hadn’t been for the interference of that infuriating Princess Companion, she would currently be Queen of Arcadia instead of running for her life through her own castle. She had heard that the foolish Arcadian Prince had even married the girl, out of gratitude she supposed. It was sickening really.

  But even after all these months, thoughts of Arcadia still made her angry and she couldn’t afford to be distracted by emotion now. She forced her thoughts back to the dark corridor around her.

  Two more turns and she was out into the crisp night air. As intended, she’d exited into a small courtyard between the main castle building and the stables. The night was cool, although not as bitingly cold as it had been in winter and the air was full of the smells of horse and hay and manure.

  The horse master’s apprentices all slept in a loft above the stable so Ava moved even more carefully than she had in the palace. As she slipped through a crack in the stable door she listened carefully for any stirrings from above. The stable was full of quiet sounds – the breathing of the horses and the rustle of the hay as several adjusted position – but none seemed human in origin.

  Ava moved to the stall of her own mare, Cinnamon. She had been Ava’s horse for many years and was older than most other horses in the stable. But she was trusty and true and Ava wouldn’t have considered taking any other horse.

  Sensing Ava’s presence, Cinnamon looked up and Ava quickly thrust an apple into her mouth. She had raided the fruit bowl in her room in preparation. Cinnamon gave a snort of pleasure but kept it quiet, as if she sensed Ava’s need for silence. Dusty, the gelding ridden by Hans, occupied the next stall but he slept too deeply to be disturbed by Cinnamon’s movements.

  Saddling the mare was fast and easy since Ava had been taught to saddle her own horse before she was taught to ride. She quickly moved towards Dusty’s stall but stood for a moment watching him. How would he react to being woken? Perhaps she should find another horse, one who was more awake.

  Just as she was turning towards the long row of stalls, a small explosion of noise made her jump. She bit her lip to suppress a gasp. No-one appeared to challenge her and no sounds other than a sleepy mumble followed by a loud snore emerged from the loft.

  As her heartbeat returned to its previous pace, she realised the sound had been a stable cat, cornering and pouncing on a terrified mouse. She decided that if the stable boys could sleep through the cats’ night-time adventures, she could risk waking Dusty.

  Carefully she eased herself into his stall and stood at his head. She had another apple ready to shove into his mouth as soon as he awoke.

  He seemed surprised to see her but satisfied with the treat. Saddling him was a little more difficult than Cinnamon given the regular saddle rather than her own side-saddle, but she got it done eventually.

  The most difficult part was leading both horses from the stable without waking anyone with the clatter of hoofs. Thankfully the floor was littered with straw which deadened the sounds of the horses’ steps. Still, by the time she emerged from the stable she appreciated the cool night air.

  She had told Hans to meet her at the stables but peering around she could see no sign of him. She had expected him to arrive before she finished saddling the horses. It wasn’t like him to be late. Hans was always effective and efficient.

  She looked around again. Maybe she had just missed him hiding in the shadows. But he was nowhere to be found.

  Just as she was starting to wonder whether she should leave the horses and look for him or take Cinnamon and head off on her own, she spotted a dark silhouette moving into the courtyard.

  “What took you so long?” she whispered, her relief making her sharp. Hans gave no reply but began to move towards her more quickly.

  He had nearly crossed the small courtyard before she realised something was wrong. The silhouette moved with a choppy stride completely unlike the smooth grace of Hans.

  At the same moment her brain assimilated this discrepancy, the figure reached down and drew a long dagger from his belt.

  She started back violently and both horses threw up their heads and pranced in place, picking up her distress and amplifying it around the courtyard.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” The man stopped in front of her.

  His back was to the faint light coming from the castle windows so she couldn’t make out his features. But the cold amusement in his voice said he was a part of the plot her father had concocted. And even if he wasn’t, saddling two horses, alone, in the middle of the night was suspicious behaviour.

  Her mind raced faster than ever before, spurred on by her fear rather than hampered by it. She threw back her hood and turned her face towards him, hoping the unshed tears she had quickly summoned were visible in the dim light.

  “Oh, thank goodness! You have to help me!” A small detached part of herself applauded. She was sure she had never sounded quite so winsome.

  She had carefully avoided looking at his dagger, although her eyes kept wanting to drag her face in its direction. At her words, the man gave a quiet chuckle and lifted the weapon threateningly. With a supreme effort of will she kept her eyes on the dark shadow of his face.

  “My instructions were not to help, Your Highness.”

  “Oh, please, please!” She clasped her hands together and allowed one tear to roll down her cheek. Letting go of both leads, she sank to the ground as if her legs had given way beneath her. She kept her eyes raised
to the light, hoping his gaze was fixed on her beautiful, terrified face. Slowly her right hand inched beneath her dress until she could feel the hilt of the dagger buried in her boot.

  She froze for a moment, calculating the distance between them and comparing the time for a thrown dagger to reach him against the time for him to reach her. It was a close call and she hesitated, afraid her blade would catch her dress or her arm would move too slowly.

  She allowed her breath to hitch on a small sob, trying to buy herself time. She simultaneously tried to convince herself that the delaying tactic was strategic and not at all motivated by fear. The man took a half step closer and Ava tensed her muscles to move. If he stepped any nearer she would have no chance at all.

  But before she could whip out the dagger, the man jerked and slumped to the ground in front of her. Ava looked up to see a new silhouette in his place. This outline was as familiar as her own reflection. How could she ever have confused the other man for Hans?

  “Are you alright?” He spoke roughly and seemed to be breathing hard.

  Unable to resist a cheeky grin, she flipped back her skirts just enough for him to see her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. She knew the playfulness was out of character and out of place but the relief of a second close escape was making her light headed and she knew if she didn’t smile, she would cry.

  As Hans moved towards her she made out his expression. He was giving her a wry grin even as he grabbed the leads of the horses that had moved several steps away.

  “I should have known,” he said. “People just keep underestimating you, don’t they, Princess?”

  “All except for you, dear Hans.” She made a sound that could have been a chuckle or a sob.

  Hans pretended not to hear the excess emotion as he handed her Cinnamon’s lead. “I’ve been the captain of your guard since you were thirteen, Your Highness. I know you far too well to underestimate you.”

  His words gave her confidence and she pulled herself together. Focusing on the rough feeling of leather in her hand, she glanced down at the figure on the ground at her feet. “Is he dead?”

  “I don’t know,” said Hans. “I hit him on the head with the hilt of my sword.”

  Something about his tone made Ava think he didn’t much care either way.

  “I recognised his voice,” Hans continued. “He’s one of Joran’s lackeys. And he had guard duty on the side gate tonight. He must have heard you and left his post. Hopefully that means the gate’s clear. Let’s go, quickly, before someone notices he’s gone.”

  Chapter 3

  It was a relief to Ava to be free of the capital. They had abandoned subtlety in favour of speed and the trading road rolled by beneath the galloping hooves of their horses. With the wind rushing past her face and her clothes flapping against Cinnamon’s sides, it was easier to suppress the anxiety and the fear and the grief.

  The events of the night had tried even her self-control. The cool wind against her cheeks helped numb the tumult inside her.

  They had been slow and quiet through the streets of the city despite Ava’s concern that they would find every gate of Rangmeros barred against them. Her fears had proved unfounded, however. They left through a small postern gate known to every member of the royal family; no alarm had been raised.

  And now at last she could move with a speed that matched her hammering heart. Slowly the distance between them and the capital grew and Ava tamed her emotions.

  The farming land that surrounded Rangmeros gave way to the beginnings of the great forest that stretched across the western half of Rangmere. It was the same forest that touched the southern tip of Northhelm and that filled the easternmost part of Arcadia. Ava wished they had chosen to flee east. They had had no real direction, choosing the Western Gate simply because it was closest to the castle. But she hated the thought of travelling towards Arcadia. She wondered, briefly, how transparent it would be if she suggested a change in direction.

  By the time Hans signalled a halt, drawing Dusty off the road into the first layer of trees, she had decided against saying anything. Hans knew her too well.

  “It’ll be light soon,” he said. “We should head into the trees away from the road.”

  Ava looked at him sharply. His words were calm and even but she detected something else in his voice. She nodded a quick assent but kept a close watch on him as they moved further into the forest. The horses mostly picked their own way between the tree trunks. Cinnamon followed Dusty as she had done on many previous rides, leaving Ava free to focus her eyes on Hans and her ears on the surrounding forest and the road behind them.

  Something was making Hans uneasy and Ava wanted to know what it was. Knowledge is power. Once again she heard the voice of her father in her mind. Trust is for fools.

  Generally, she agreed with him but Hans she trusted. He had long ago earned her trust with unwavering strength, intelligence and loyalty. If Hans was concerned about something, Ava was concerned too.

  Still, she bided her time, waiting until Hans found a satisfactory clearing and unsaddled and rubbed down Cinnamon. Then he removed his own saddlebags and rummaged through one until he emerged with a waterskin, some bread and some cheese.

  When he still said nothing, Ava spoke.

  “You haven’t unsaddled Dusty.”

  Hans granted her a brief, tight-lipped smile. “Can’t get anything past you, Princess.”

  Ava felt some relief. Hans rarely made jokes and if he was making one now, however small, the situation couldn’t be that dire.

  “Come on, out with it,” she said. “What’s concerning you?”

  He regarded her silently for several moments and then sighed.

  “That was too easy.”

  “Excuse me?” Ava’s mind flashed back to the gleam of light flashing against the blade of a knife. “It didn’t feel easy in the courtyard.”

  Hans nodded a brief acknowledgment. “Whoever was behind Joran’s attempt, they clearly didn’t expect him to fail. Their contingency plans were…sloppy.” He paused. “We escaped the castle because we moved quickly. But after that…”

  “You think we escaped Rangmeros too easily?” Ava’s mind was whirling, her relief at the ease of their escape changing all too easily to fear.

  “Not just the capital, Your Highness. I’ve been a member of the Guard for six years and trained with them for two years before that. I know their procedures and protocols. They had time to lock down the city gates before we got there. And we should have seen or heard some sign of pursuit on the road. I expected we’d need to leave the road for the forest long before now.”

  Ava processed this information silently. Hans was silent also, allowing her the time she needed. His words seemed reasonable but she had no idea what to make of them. She had never felt so stranded, cut off from all her usual sources of information.

  Of course, that was what they needed. Information.

  “We need more information.” She said it with confidence, certain that Hans agreed. There could be no other reason for him to leave Dusty saddled. “You want to go scouting but you’re worried about leaving me alone. Again.”

  “I wish I had a few men with me.” Hans sounded frustrated. “But most of them I couldn’t trust and I could hardly ask the others to leave their families to flee with us.” He ran an impatient hand through his hair and down his face. Ava wondered if Hans felt as tired as she did.

  “I hate to leave you alone out here but we need information.”

  “You were ready to flee with me at a moment’s notice; that is enough.” Ava spoke firmly, for once letting her true emotions fill her voice without need for manipulation. “We are both highly skilled and we will survive. And for now what we need is information. So go and see what you can discover. I’ll be here when you return.”

  Hans regarded her steadily for several moments and then nodded. “You will survive, Your Highness,” he said. “I pledge my life on it.”

  As soon as Hans and Dusty were
out of sight amongst the trees, Ava sank down onto the ground. Alone at last, she could admit that she was exhausted. Much of the strength she had shown Hans had been a façade. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so physically and emotionally drained.

  It had been years since she had felt the comfort of a warm hug but she fantasised about one now. She generally tried to avoid thoughts of her mother or her grandmother so it felt strange to allow herself to remember the safety of their arms.

  She even let herself smile at the memory of the beautiful red cloak her grandmother had given her. Once she wore it everywhere. The last four years it had lain at the very bottom of her wardrobe.

  After a moment she shook herself. There was a reason she didn’t think of any of these things.

  Her mother’s mother had hated everything Ava’s father had stood for and had been the only adult to comfort Ava as her mother wasted away.

  But it wasn’t my fault, thought Ava. I didn’t want to turn my back on her. Choosing my father’s way was my only option. My father may have betrayed me now, but that changes nothing. He made me strong. And that strength is the reason I survived tonight.

  Dwelling on this thought helped the old certainty to return.

  Dying of a broken heart is ridiculous! I don’t believe it’s possible whatever people say. No. Mother was ill long before I ever chose to follow Father’s direction. It’s coincidence she died so soon afterwards.

  The thoughts ran round and round in her head as she tried to stop dwelling on her mother’s death, so many years ago now, and the unknown fate of her grandmother.

  For a long time she sat there, staring into the trees but not even noticing the increasing light from the dawn filtering among the trunks. When Cinnamon snorted and stamped her hoof, Ava snapped out of her reverie.

  Looking around she registered that it was now full daylight and she was completely alone. She shivered. She missed the comforting dark; its cloaking presence made her feel safe.