Trapped with a Way Out.
A white horse rounded the corner of a small boulder, its neck bulging with muscles and legs pounding the ground with determination as it gripped the earth with massive strides. A fair rider rode atop the massive animal as it strode forward and leaped over a rotting log. Kicking dirt into the air, the horse tossed its head and snorted fiercely. The rider's heart raced with anticipation as the next obstacle approached: a stream. Wind whipped at her face when she pulled stray strands out of her way, cursing at her long, flowing braids. She braced, and the horse grunted as its hind legs kicked out from underneath them both to sent them sailing over the stream, clearing it by a foot.
The rider inhaled and laughed as hoof met ground; she felt like a free spirit once more. After being locked up in her father's castle for a month, finally there was a sunny day where she could ride. Her hands immediately constricted the horse, bracing the bit's metal bar against its mouth. The beast made a deep whinny in complaint as she continued to pull on the reins until it slowed down. Its white mane and neck were already lathered with sweat, but she didn't hesitate to pat her mount. He did well for being cooped up in the barn for a month. She definitely knew this feeling and could empathize.
"Easy there. Let's get you back to the barn. We had a fun morning, but I'd better take you back before you injure yourself on my account," the rider murmured.
Sealing their silent agreement with another pat and stroke across the neck, she neck-reined the horse in the direction back toward the castle. The young woman weaved the horse in between the thick and lush trees of the forest. Everywhere, she saw green. It uplifted her spirits to know that spring was arriving after months of rain and snow. The forest was quiet, and too quiet for most. But she didn't mind the absence of sound, aside from the birds. It beat sitting around and discussing politics with the regent's court, of which she was a part. Even though she excelled at triumphing over her adversarial subjects and the nobles, she hated the act. It was never her first choice of being nobility; she would much rather lead a simpler tale and ride horses all her life than attend to the country's needs and well-being. In her mind, it took far more than a handful of people to decide what was best.
She finally found a clearing in the thick forest and led her mount across the fields of grass. In the near distance, the young woman could see the tall and fortressed castle and the barn as well. Ominous clouds approached from the south and she decided to gain speed. She clucked to the horse and then bounded off into a fast trot. The rider easily sat through the gait, watching her autumn colored dress elegantly drape over the backside of her horse. Finally deciding to lightly kick the horse, she cantered forward into a lope over the rolling hills of tall grass.
Inhaling the fresh and cold air, she approached the side of the castle and was let in by a familiar servant with a crop of short, dark brown hair. The rider's blue eyes watched the sky darken as thunder vibrated the ground. Her long blonde hair whipped the sides of her cheeks like a bird's talons as she reined her horse in. He jumped at the sound of thunder, but quickly regained composure.
"Lady Richard, how was your trip?" Walter asked with a hand outstretched to grab the reins of the horse.
Richard swung one foot over and slid gracefully down. "It went well. He needs more practice at the trot. He never has patience to trot for very long. How is my father doing?"
Walter swallowed hard and cleared his throat as he un-tacked the mount. "Well, he is returning from another Wallachian battle. He was able to put one of our allies on the throne this time. Citizens of Hungary certainly don't like the idea of Ottomans invading Hungary, and it's good that our regent is taking every measure to accomplish this…but there seems to be little choice."
Richard's eyes sparkled with intrigue. "And why's that?" she led the horse to a hitching post and reached for a wash cloth. Bringing it to eye level and observing the water drip down, she proceeded to wash the horse's wet back.
Walter lightly touched her shoulder, "Please, my Lady, I can do that."
Richard smiled retracting her hand out of his reach, "Walter, you know I love riding, and you how I love taking care of my animals. Don't think I'm like my cousin, Ilona."
Walter abruptly stopped and returned her smile, "Of course not."
"Now, what about having little choice?" she asked, resuming her task.
Walter's jaw visibly tightened, "Well, our army is holding up against little skirmishes around the borders, but we need a real threat; something that can stop the Ottomans in their tracks."
Richard paused, brushing one of her two long braids out of her eyes, "Then I suggest that you pray, Walter, and pray well. We seem to be the only bulwark in the way of the Ottomans advancing further west."
He nodded with a grunt and left to hang the horse's tack up. He lifted the saddle with ease and shifted his weight in the tack room to place the pads and saddle atop a wooden hanger. He then swung the bridle around his shoulder and walked out to rinse the bit of the spit and slobber. A look of interest entered his own eyes as he watched Richard from the side.
"Your sister has many ideas about the country, you know. She thinks that the poor should be distributed more bread, the nobles less land, the workers better pay, and standards of living to increase."
Richard chuckled, "William has many ideas-good ideas-but they will never hold their own weight. She is too naïve, too inexperienced, too young. Her visions of the future are bright, but she has a broadened sense of what is possible, when, in reality, what we can do is little, especially in this time of turmoil."
"Indeed," Walter rubbed at the bit and dunked it in a bucket of clear water. "I suppose you have alternatives to this?"
Richard stopped working and gave her servant a sidelong look, "I see. Trying to lightly pry the information out of me bit by bit?"
Her servant felt his cheeks warm. "Your own father, regent and for all intents and purposes, the enacting King of Hungary and certainly its guardian, wishes to know what goes on in that head of yours. Even he has trouble reading your faces, and he constantly comes to me looking for answers. I repeatedly have to remind him that I, too, know not what happens within that keen mind."
His Lady laughed angelically and tossed her flaxen hair defiantly to the wind, "That's half the battle there: making sure your opponents don't read you. It brings quite the advantage."
Walter dumped the bucket of water and hung the bridle in the tack room next to Richard. He walked back out and accompanied her to the castle, shivering as the wind picked up speed and watching the clouds grow nearer and nearer. "So you think the Governor your enemy? An 'opponent'?"
Richard faltered in her step, almost stumbling off balance, but she quickly regained her composure. "Never. He's just good practice," she added with a smile.
The pair walked through the side yard along a stone pathway and up the damp steps to the castle, both feeling the smooth stone underneath their shoes. Richard watched rows of trees and the tall grass whip loudly as more wind picked up. The young woman then turned to eye the intimidating, large edifice. The castle had tall and strong defense towers, an interior courtyard, and a drawbridge that had just been completed. Hunyad Castle had soft, red colored roofs with pointed towers, myriad windows, and balconies adorned with stone carvings, some with the coat of arms. It was built gracefully above the small river, Zlasti, which Richard could see every morning from her window.
Walter opened the large wooden door for his Lady and stepped inside after her. A gust of warm air hit Richard as she shielded her eyes from the sudden hot burst of wind. Uncovering them immediately from her long sleeves to investigate, she blinked and smiled upon seeing the small side room. A few guards had started a fire in the fireplace and we
re warming their hands. One man was chewing on a small chunk of bread. Both were wearing chain mail capes, and a leather belt with sheathed swords at the hips. Their shields had been cast aside, leaning on the legs of the table. Walter narrowed his eyes at the scene.
"And what is this? Two guards who are supposed to be on watch, yet they continue to please their shivers by sitting, no less, near a fireplace?" the servant stated, not attempting to hold back disgust in his words.
Both jumped up from their seats and grabbed their accompanying shields, "So terribly sorry! We just were freezin' out there and wanted to come in for a minute," one rushed.
"Honest, we'd only been sitting here for two minutes!" the other promised.
"Yes, and those two minutes could have been spent watching for enemies. Do you really wish for the Ottomans to breach our security? Do you want them to break through and murder every last one of us, take our women in as slaves, and butcher our children?" Walter escalated until he could see the whites of their eyes.
"NO! WE'LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!" one of the guards shouted in fear.
Suddenly, everyone heard a door open and close. All three men looked up and saw Richard carrying a pail of water in between her hands, a wry smile spread across her face. She hoisted it up and set it on a hanger next to the fireplace to heat up. She then brushed her braids aside and turned to face the baffled men.
"Well, Walter, that was truly theatrical, a wonderful piece. I hope you got your point across, because you lost me at Ottomans breaching our security. Honestly, I couldn't ask for finer guards."
Walter gritted his teeth as the guards started to laugh nervously. "My Lady, they were disobeying protocol, they abandoned their posts, they lit a fire, stole bread, and did everything short of napping on their own watches."
Richard walked up to both guards and put her hands on their shoulders. "Then a fresh pot of ground up leaves for tea should brighten them up, don't you think?" she turned to the reddish-blonde. He smiled, already calming down.
"I agree with her," he nodded.
Richard turned back to her servant, "Everything you've said thus far has characterized them as not only tired since they sought sanctuary in this room, but that they are now exhausted and famished from spending time all day in the cold and wet. I believe," she continued, despite Walter closing his eyes tightly shut, "that if they get a ten minute break and sit here to warm themselves, instead of catching some sickness where we would then be two guards short, they will feel even better."
"But, my Lady, they-" Walter began.
"What say you?" Richard turned back around to the guards.
"Agreed!" they stated eagerly and sat back down, abandoning their shields once more.
Walter groaned and slapped his forehead. Why did Richard have to challenge his authority? Granted, he was her servant, but in a time of war, everyone should be vigilant, everyone should be prepared, not gathering to talk and to have fun while taking breaks. Such conduct would surely enrage the regent…
"Walter," Richard startled his thoughts back into reality, "Would you care to join us?" she now asked without any color of sarcastic politeness.
He straightened his clothes out of habit and joined in, keeping quiet the whole time. He committed himself to watching Richard skillfully dunk herbal leaves and listen to the guards' banter. At one point, he even left to get a loaf of bread for a snack. He'd been working all day and forgot to eat lunch as well. The sun had set long ago as the group of four laughed and drank ground up herbal tea together. Richard was considering making soup when the reddish-blonde began to speak of her father.
"We'd learned today that Lord Hunyadi was returning from Wallachia by a messenger. He came back victorious, for he placed Lord Vincentislav II to the throne. They came away as heroes!" he exclaimed.
Richard laughed, "As long as I won't be seeing any Ottomans on Hungarian soil, I'm happy."
"Indeed. Our White Knight was even able to chase that Ottoman puppet boy out –what was his name?" he turned to his friend.
"Sir Vincentislaus III, I think," the other said and broke off the last of the bread.
"YES! That was his name. Apparently he was some young lad who the Ottomans used to place on the throne of Wallachia so that we wouldn't regain its territory," he nodded and took another swig.
Richard exchanged a glance with Walter. He looked mildly concerned, even disturbed slightly. The expression caught her off guard she almost whispered to him, asking what was ailing his mind. However, Richard's years of etiquette and understanding how closed off her servant could be when discussing his feelings made her think better of it. She sat quietly instead.
"I should like to be in that army someday," the reddish-blonde continued, the glance gone unnoticed by either of the guards, "The thrill, the struggle, the power of victory, the rush to achieve perfection on the battlefield…" he gazed at the fire that crackled as new wood was fed into it.
Richard's lip curled into a smile, "With that determination, you will be one soon enough."
He turned to look at her, "All of it is enough to fill a man's heart."
Richard chuckled, "What's your name?"
The soldier straightened his slouching stature, "Pip, my Lady. At your service."
The young Lady eyed his profile and nodded, "I could definitely put in a good word, for you, to my father."
Walter cleared his throat, "Provided that you do not seek respites here and there like some inexperienced messenger boy."
Both guards swallowed and frowned. They turned to Richard for support, but she leaned back in her tall chair and nodded as well.
"Yes, I agree. You must be trustworthy," she turned to her servant who had pushed his seat in and extended his hand to her.
Walter's eyes were controlled, but the foundation of pleading upon which the gesture was built could not hide itself well from her. She gently took his hand and stood up, curtsying to the guards as they stood as well, seeming to follow her lead quite nervously.
"It was lovely to meet you, my Lady," Pip smiled as he bowed deeply for her. The other did so but was mute.
Richard bowed her head in recognition and proceeded to be led out of the warm room. Walter opened the door for her and stepped outside, along with his dignity. But as he turned to face his beloved master, her face was troubled with a frown. It creased that lovely taut forehead into wrinkles akin to her father's. She paused only for a moment before walking alongside him. As he escorted her to her bedchamber, she exhaled a short and sweet breath.
"I worry myself, I guess," she murmured.
Walter ruefully smiled, "You must get that from me. As long as you don't act upon your judgments and paranoia, then you will lack any regrets in life."
Richard paused as they reached her door and looked into his eyes. Did he say that from personal experience? The thought left as soon as it came when she could hear William inside singing a tune. "Do you think this war will bring bloodshed? Do I have reason to worry for my loved ones?"
She looked into beautiful gray eyes. They lowered at her question, letting his brown hair cover a portion of his head and eyes to mask them from her. He was never one to lie, but he was never one to say the truth of his feelings. Dancing around it was always his specialty.
"I think it is the Ottomans' move next," the young man muttered, his calm and calculating eyes exposing the ten years of knowledge he had over her.
She nodded and opened the doors to her bedchamber. "Then Hungary will be waiting…" she whispered.
Richard woke up the next morning to hear birds chirping outside of her window. She stirred and stretched her arms out past the length of the covers, exposing skinny white arms and long, bony fingers. Immediately, she felt uncomfortable and shot her arms back underneath the covers and looked around. Citizens were not allowed to show much skin, especially women. They were only allowed to show as much as their dresses were permitted; and considering that she was nobility, she had to look particularly refined to the general public.
"IIIINNNTTTEEEGGGRRRRAAAA!" William called from less than a foot away, "It's time to get uuuuuppp!"
Richard rolled back over to face her little sister with a grin, "And of course I needed that volume to wake me. I was already alert."
William grinned back and lowered her head, bangs of strawberry blonde hair covering her eyes, "Yes, but I will hear such volume come forth from your lips when you've heard my news."
Richard raised one eyebrow, "Is that so?"
"Indeed, it is," William nodded, "Our father has returned from Wallachia and will be here within the day."
"OUR FATHER! I FORGOT!" Richard remembered, ripping the blankets off of her body and jumping out of her bed. William screeched as leaped out of the way as Richard ran to her closet.
"Well I expected as much for the action. But why did you say 'I forgot'? That implies that you already knew father was coming back," William stated the last sentence slowly.
Her older sister paused, still looking away and shuffling through dresses, "I…I did find out. A guard told me yesterday late in the evening."
"Whom, may I ask?" William walked over to her closet and began to rummage through her own dresses.
"Umm, I believe it was Pip," Richard almost lost her train of thought as she pulled out a beautiful blue dress.
It was a houppelande dress colored deep red, gold, and ivory with long, golden sleeves flaring out. But the sleeves, however, were snug at the wrist, making a full "bag" sleeve. The bag sleeve was slashed in the front to allow the lower arm to reach through. It would be worn over a kirtle, under gown, and the beginnings of a V-neck that showed a glimpse of the square-necked kirtle began to show. The chest gave a little flirtation with a low hem, but was moderate in its give.
William wore a blue dress with the skirt of it ruffled into beautiful layers, embroidered lace in patterns at the hems of each end. It also had a train in the back at least two feet that was also adorned with ivory lace against the deep blue of the dress. A single ivory strip fell down the middle of the dress, starting from the chest. She smiled; it would be a lovely dress to wear for her father's return.
Trapped with a Way Out Page 1
