by Johnson, ID
Matthew looked overcome with emotion as well, “Hey,” he said pressing as closely to the opening as he could, “We should be happy. This will all be over soon.” But his expression indicated that he clearly could not take his own advice. As the tears began to roll down her cheeks, he longed to brush them away. Straining against the wood and metal, he stretched his fingers as far as he could. Though he could no longer see her at all, he could feel the soft skin of her cheek against his fingertips. He gently brushed away the tears and caressed her cheekbone. Katey leaned forward into his hand, wishing she could press her full body against his. As he continued to stroke her cheek, she turned so that her lips met the rough skin of his knuckles. She took his fingers in both of her hands and he slid his fingertips down her jawline and around the curve of her chin as she continued to gently kiss any part of his flesh that came into contact with her lips. He was resting his head against the door, his eyes shut, using his tactile senses to feel what she looked like so that he could carry the picture of her face with him on the journey ahead.
Suddenly, a booming sound in the distance jarred them both back to reality. Though it was far away, the noise was unmistakable. It was cannon fire.
As Matthew ran to the arrow slit to see if he could ascertain what was going on, Katey began to gather up her things. If she was going to attempt to hide, now was the time to do it, before Philip returned and before the other dignitaries began to flee.
Looking out the makeshift window, Matthew could see nothing new, except for the scurrying of the ant-people seemed to increase to an even more incessant fervor. Though he could not see the advancing army, the sound of artillery fire on the horizon was fair warning that Caleb and his army were coming and that nothing was going to stop them.
He returned to the door to find Angel preparing to go. “Are you leaving then?” he asked, dropping back to his knees in an attempt to see those eyes once more.
She nodded, staring back at him through the tiny slot that had been there only form of communication.
Matthew wasn’t sure what to say. It seemed senseless to profess his love to her under the circumstances, yet he truly felt that he did, indeed love her. Nevertheless, there was no time for emotional behavior now; they both had work to do. Besides, regardless of whether or not she felt the same about him, she would not be able to reply and he did not want to embark on this trek questioning whether or not Angel returned his affection. So, he said the next most sensible phrase he could think of. “Fly carefully, my angel.”
Her slow and deliberate nod indicated that she wished the same for him. She slipped her slender hand through the door one last time and once again he pressed it gently to his lips, squeezing her fingers lightly as he did so. He then pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, as if in prayer or deep thought, before kissing her lightly one more time and then releasing her.
As Katey flew down the stairs, she clearly heard cannon fire once more. When she turned to look back, the slot in the door was closed and Matthew was gone.
Chapter 5
Philip flew back toward the castle, forcing his horse to gallop as quickly as he could. Charles was close behind him, his stallion struggling to keep up with Philip’s. Of course he would have the fastest horse. Faster meant better and he was the king. And after a day like today, it appeared things would be staying that way for quite some time!
Today, his men had been brilliant! Caleb’s men had advanced cautiously, slowly. It gave the Clovington forces the opportunity to form ranks and hold them off. The Arterians had been slightly victorious earlier on, covering the ground between yesterday’s battleground and Skull Creek relatively quickly. But once they ran into this natural impediment, Philip’s troops sprung in to action. Wave after wave of Caleb’s men attempted to cross the creek, either through the shallow, but swiftly moving, current or by traversing the narrow Skull Bridge. It was quite easy for Philip’s archers to cover the bridge, since, by its very nature it provided a bottleneck of assailants. The Arterians would push forward and Clovington would send them back. It was as if his forces suddenly realized that, if they were pushed back any further, the Arterians would overrun Castle Blackthorn and their homes would be destroyed. So, his men finally began to fight like men—like their lives depended upon it, as they did. And as the sun began to set, Caleb’s army retreated for the evening, still on the other side of Skull Creek. The Clovington military would live to fight another day.
By morning, Leopold’s cavalry would have arrived. Though he had originally sent them to cover Philips ass as he fled the kingdom, Philip would now use these fresh reinforcements to send Caleb reeling. In fact, Leopold’s cavalry had a reputation for being some of the most daunting warriors one could possibly ever engage in battle and, now that his army was beginning to make progress, he was hopeful that their combined forces would be enough to deliver the final blow.
As Philip saw Castle Blackthorn on the horizon in front of him, he reflected on just how remarkable this day had been. Only this morning, he had been a broken man, wallowing in defeat and self-pity. Now, he returned to the castle triumphant. He could even hear his men firing a few rounds of cannon in the distance to celebrate their victory. And as he entered the castle gate, he anticipated an evening that would only get better. Tonight was the night he had been anticipating for years. With or without a wedding band, this evening, Princess Katherine would become his wife. He was looking forward to hearing her scream his name from between the bed sheets. He smiled to himself, imagining what she would look like completely naked, writhing in pleasure and pain, begging him for more, yet pleading with him to stop. He felt himself began to stiffen at the thought of it. “Oh, Princess Katey, tonight you will be queen!” he thought. He wondered if she discovered his little gift by now. She was probably in her room anticipating his arrival. He began to chuckle aloud. He really could not wait.
***
Katey rushed down the stairs, out into the hallway, and back to her bedchamber. She needed to hurry if she was going to stow away before Philip returned. As she closed the door, she turned towards the sound of bustling in the room, expecting to see Joan, but instead, someone else sat in the rocker next to the bed working on an embroidery piece and humming to herself.
“Well, good day,” the woman said sharply, sitting her work aside and getting to her feet. She was tall, much taller than Katey, with almost white hair pulled up into a tight bun. Her dress was crisp, as was her attitude, and Katey felt more than a little confused. “I am Lady Agatha of Spindlebrook. The king is my third cousin, once removed,” she explained peering down her thin nose at the princess. “And I will be your lady-in-waiting from this point forward. You may call me simply, ‘Lady Agatha.’ Do you understand?”
The confused expression on Katey’s face did not change as she slowly nodded her head up and down, wondering where in the world Joan must be.
Lady Agatha looked very much annoyed at Katey’s response. “Still doing that head nodding, I see,” she said shrilly. “Well, I believe that a princess, or a queen as you are to be shortly, must have perfect manners, which includes saying, ‘Thank you’ and ‘Please’ and other polite phrases, not simply shrugging and nodding and acting like an animal.”
Katey had not moved any further into the room and she was contemplating running back out the door. Something told her that Lady Agatha was spritelier than she appeared and that she would find a way to chase her down.
“Now then,” her new attendant continued, crossing the room, taking Katey by the shoulders, and drawing her into the room. “What precisely have you been doing all day? Running around the garden like a child? Chasing after the cooks in the kitchen? Perhaps you’ve wasted all of these hours in the library, filling your head with foolishness? Well, you are to be wed tomorrow and I see nothing of consequence when it comes to wedding preparations. Does it not alarm you that your dress isn’t even finished? That your bouquet resembles a handful of weeds? Surely you must have given some thought to this momentous occasion?” As
she spoke, she bustled around the room, pointing out the half-finished work Joan had been so engaged in these past few days. It did appear that nothing was finished, but Katey could not understand how anyone could miss the war going on outside their doorstep. She certainly didn’t think there was actually going to be a wedding tomorrow?
Since Katey did not answer any of her questions, Agatha grew a bit more annoyed. “Fine then, you sit,” she said pressing Katey into a chair in the corner of the room. I will go over the items I have found for the wedding, and, perhaps you can somehow indicate to me just what purpose they were to serve.”
Though there was no window in her room, Katey felt certain the rumbling she heard in the distance had to be cannon fire. It sounded as if it were growing a bit closer. She needed to be going. If she was going to avoid fleeing with Philip, she needed to hide and she needed to do it now.
Agatha had her back to Katey and she thought it might just be possible to sneak out undetected. Though she was older, Agatha was not deaf, however, and she heard Katey’s chair creak as she stood. “Wherever are you going?” she asked, crossing back to her young ward and pushing her back down in to the chair. “We have work to do, young lady. There’s no time for running off and frolicking just now!”
Katey sighed. Part of her wanted to push the woman as hard as she could and bolt for the door. But she was scared of what the consequences might be. Agatha didn’t seem as if she would hesitate to call the guards to have her carried back into the room kicking and flailing. Agatha continued to hold things up, tell her why each piece was a “nightmare, really” and toss it away or shove it back to where it had come from.
After about thirty minutes of this, there was a rapping on the door. “Oh, who could that possibly be? Doesn’t anyone care that there is to be a wedding tomorrow?” Agatha mumbled as she crossed the room to answer. “Yes?” she asked, pulling the door open.
Katey could see that it was Charles. An overwhelming wave of defeat welled up inside of her. If Charles had returned then, most likely, so had Philip. If Philip were here then, chances are, she would not be able to avoid him. He must be preparing to flee the castle and Charles was here to collect Lady Agatha and herself.
Charles beckoned Agatha out into the hallway. Though the door closed, Katey could still hear the shrill note of her voice as she listened to Charles’s hushed remarks. “Yes, uhm hum, I see,” she was saying. “Alright then, I’ll be by directly,” she said just before entering the room.
“Well then,” she said, turning to face Katey and closing the door behind her. “The King has sent for me,” she was doing her best to stifle a grin but Katey could see the edges of her top lip curling up. Apparently, she was particularly fond of Philip, though Katey couldn’t imagine how that was possible. “You are to stay here while I go and speak with His Royal Highness. Now, while I am away, perhaps you could sort through some of this mess and determine what is useful and what is not. Although, if your taste is anything like that of your prior lady-in-waiting I highly doubt you know the difference.” She straightened her dress, pressed any lose pieces back into her bun, and pulled the door open, her nose in the air.
Just as Katey began to feel relief that she was finally gone and she could slip out at last, she heard the most malevolent sound; the turning of a key in the door. Katey was locked in! She rushed over to the door, shaking the handle and pounding on it. Though she couldn’t be sure, she was fairly certain that she heard Agatha laughing as she was made her way down the hall. Katey was a prisoner in her own bedchamber and Joan was
***
Dusk began to settle over the Arterian army, cloaking the men in a comforting darkness that made them feel almost invisible and undetectable. Today had been a farce. Caleb had sent in a skeleton crew, told them to advance slowly and cautiously, not to risk casualties, and to let Philip’s men believe that they were winning. This was extremely difficult for a group of men used to annihilating every opponent. Yet, they fully understood Caleb’s plan, as their superiors had explained it to them, and they were willing to follow his command to the last. So, they had spent most of the day holding back, anticipating the evening’s advancement. Now that the sun was setting, they began to grow eager with anticipation. Upon Caleb’s signal, return cannon fire began and his men fell into rank, ready to take Skull Creek and trap Philip’s forces against their very own village wall. The plan was to press on, past the meager village defenses, over the mile or so to the castle wall, and then to take Castle Blackthorn before morning.
Across the meandering stream known as Skull Creek, Cuthbert and his men were drinking heavily, celebrating their total victory over the invading army. Cannon fire rang-out occasionally, meant as a reminder to Caleb and his forces that they had lost the day. Cuthbert was almost as exuberant as King Philip had been over their triumph on the battlefield. He stood huddled beneath some trees with his commanding officers, reflecting on the day over a cup of mead, when suddenly the men heard a whizzing in the air around them. It was growing dark so it was almost impossible to see where the sound was coming from until one of men slumped forward, an arrow sticking through his chest. Panic stricken, Cuthbert dodged behind the trees, as did the other commanders who were still able to move. He began shouting orders, realizing, however that many of his men were drunk, asleep, or already hit by flying arrows. If nothing else, he knew it was imperative to send word to King Philip at once that they were under attack.
He frantically looked around for a courier but, in the soft glow of the fading sun, he could see none. Nor could he find a trumpeter to sound a call to arms. Just as he was about to find a horse and make the ride back to the castle to warn the king himself, he felt the sharp sting of an arrowhead enter his arm. Then, another struck him in the shoulder. His attempts to duck for cover were futile and he found himself reeling in pain as he curled up in the fetal position on the ground. His last thought was, “Well, at least Philip will not have the pleasure of killing me himself.”
***
Katey was still leaning on the door sobbing when she heard the key turn in the lock. She barely had time to stand up before Agatha forced her way into the room. “Well, now, the king has requested your presence. We are to go at once. Come along.”
The princess glanced around the room, wondering if she should take her most precious belongings with her. Surely if they were fleeing to Gradenia right now, Agatha would tell her to pack her things. Perhaps Philip just wanted to tell her his plans. At any rate, Agatha was already down the hall a few paces, looking irritated that she was lagging behind. Katey followed along, reluctantly, closing the door behind her.
Philip’s bedchamber was not too far away and they were there in a few moments. Agatha pulled the skeleton key back out of her pocket and unlocked the door. When they entered, Katey immediately noticed that the room was immaculately clean. Though she was certain Philip did not have to clean it himself, she was not surprised to think that he would want everything just so. The bed curtains, the duvet, the pillowcases, all of the linens in the room were a thick red velvety material. Even the curtains that hung over the window were a matching shade of scarlet, their thick cords a yellow-gold. The furniture, which included an armoire, a dressing table, two nightstands and an enormous bed, was all a thick mahogany and it shined as if it were polished at least once a day.
As Katey entered the room, she was puzzled that Philip was not present. Agatha did not seem to think it odd that they had entered the king’s bedchamber in his absence so Katey followed behind, slowly, cautiously.
Agatha crossed over to the bed, pulling the blanket and sheets down on the far side as if she were about to take a nap. Katey had only just stepped into the room and now she paused, confused and unable to ask for clarity.
“Well, come here,” Agatha demanded. Katey took one step forward when Agatha insisted, “Close the door behind you!” Bewildered, Katey turned to close the door. She peered out into the hallway, thinking perhaps Philip was on his way, but she did not
see him and she felt obligated to do precisely what Agatha commanded, so she quietly shut the door and then crossed the room to join her overbearing lady-in-waiting.
Agatha promptly spun Katey around and started unlacing her dress. Katey’s confusion rose to a new level as Agatha continued to remove article after article of the princess’s clothing. “Now,” she said when Katey was down to her undergarments. “I know you have no mother,” she began, rather tritely. Katey was facing her now and she was hopeful that the stripping would stop. But it did not. Agatha continued to take Katey’s undergarments off as she spoke. “Perhaps you have had some advice from your older sister, though I doubt it,” she added under her breath. “Let me lend you some council. First of all, he’s your, uh, husband,” she stammered, knowing that wasn’t quite accurate but who was she to argue with the king? “You must be obedient in every way. Secondly, it has been suggested that bracing oneself may help, though I do not recommend it. In my personal experience, that seems to cause more pain, especially when one is, shall we say, inexperienced? Which brings me to my final point,” she spun Katey around to face her. Standing in the king’s bedchamber, completely nude in the presence of a stranger, Katey was both embarrassed and terrified. She was very much aware of her arms and could not decide if she should use them to cover herself or hold them to her sides. The result was a strange pantomime of limb shifting that made her feel even more humiliated than before. “ Some mothers attempt to comfort their daughters by telling them stories of how lovely and beautiful this moment will be. Let me be honest with you, young lady. It is going to hurt like hell.”
With that, Agatha grabbed Katey by the shoulders, pulled up the bed sheets, and shoved her in, pulling them back around her shoulders and tucking her in. Katey stared up at her, her eyes widened in fear and disbelieve.
Agatha picked Katey’s clothing up off of the floor, put out the small lantern next to the bed that had provided the only illumination, and draped her clothing over the back of a chair across the room before she approached the door. “The king will be in shortly,” she added as she opened the door and exited, locking the door behind her.
