Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  Vincent shouted as he dashed one opponent and then another. He blocked his enemies' strikes deftly with the long hilt of his sword if his blade could not suffice in length and would then raise the dagger in his other hand to twist at one of his enemy's torsos. Taking two at a time, he soon found himself overwhelmed by sheer numbers, and he also watched as more reinforcements along the hills began to set up their crossbows. Vincent looked to his right and was about to strike another enemy when he realized that it was Ladislaus.

  "What are you doing?" Vincent clashed swords with another assassin, "My lord, you are supposed to be guiding the men back!"

  Ladislaus deflected his opponent's weapon and chuckled, "And what, let you have all the credit of killing the famed assassins?"

  "Then you are a fool!" Vincent shouted and sliced off an assassin's hand.

  His superior growled in anger, "You may think you can take all of them, but they are surrounding us! We must leave!"

  "Then leave!" Vincent was barely able to deflect the hits not plundering his armor, "Get out alive, and I will be the distraction!"

  Ladislaus shook his head, "I cannot leave without you! My father needs you!"

  Vincent looked at Ladislaus in shock, that he would so readily say such a thing. The prince's pride stripped away, all he had left was to be humble, and humble he would be.

  "My family needs you! You are the only thing standing in the way of the Ottoman Empire. They need your skill in combat and they need your knowledge and your ingenious plans. You are too valuable of an asset to lose, and I will not allow your death on my watch!" Ladislaus punched two men in the throat and gutted another.

  Vincent paused as he watched what little remained of his cavalrymen gather their strength and join them in battle. Looking at them, beaten and battered but not yet dead, fighting for their last breath, made him swell in pride as he turned to his prince to agree that they could take their leave. But no sooner had Vincent turned around when he saw Ladislaus's armor pierced by a crossbow's arrow with an amazingly loud, metal-cracking 'thud'.

  The prince's jaw dropped for an instant as his body swayed in the saddle. Vincent heard the choked and strangled gasps of the prince and cringed as he instantly rode up next to the man. The Wallachian faintly heard himself shouting his comrade's name angrily, but it sounded like an echo compared to the artillery fire now being used against them as the assassin cavalrymen dispersed.

  Vincent was furious! At what, he did not know. Here this man was, who hated him thoroughly, cursed him to hell and back, and yet looking at him mortally wounded and in peril infuriated Vincent. Naught would have pleased him more than to personally murder each and every assassin, and slowly. The contradicting feelings within him were confusing, but he pushed all of them aside to help the fading prince.

  Ladislaus's head lolled to the side as he tried to grip the arrow embedded in the upper right side of his chest with his free hand, but settled on screaming in agony instead. His wounded shoulder was not responding, and he couldn't even find the strength to lift his right hand up to hold the reins. The prince began to breathe heavily as his vision blurred, his eyes resting intently on the gathering enemies up on the hill above them. And then there was a person grabbing him.

  Vincent wrapped one arm around Ladislaus's lower torso and lifted Ladislaus's left leg over and onto Hadúr's neck. In one heaving motion, Vincent lifted the prince up and planted him on Vincent's horse. Scooting back behind the saddle, Vincent rested Ladislaus into the saddle for balance and encircled his arms around Ladislaus as a sort of barrier to keep the man from falling to the sides. Kicking Hadúr forward, the two went bounding off, thankful for the cavalrymen who were left to stay behind.

  With his last conscious breath, Ladislaus shouted, "RETREAT!"

  "Victor! Victor, I told you to wait! Son of a mad king, wait!" Seneschal Marius huffed as he raced up the hill, noble garments in tow, "How, on this green land, did you convince me that I should carry your things. I am no manservant. I am a respectable person, one who has worked diligently to be in the position of near-noble-hood, and I'll have you know that if I were one tier above what I am now, I would be a noble and you would not be able to–"

  "Marius!" Victor waved over from his horse, clearly not paying attention. The usual. Marius growled but jerked his horse's reins toward the lord and stomped his feet angrily as he reached his designated spot.

  "Yes, my lord? What do you wish of me? Should I polish your shoes on this fine, grassy hill? Perhaps carry more of your things for the party we are to attend? No, wait, I've got it! You want me to carry you personally the rest of the way there!" Seneschal Marius raised his voice and plopped Victor's garments on top of his horse. He should have been riding it instead of using the steed as a pack-mule.

  Victor shook his head solemnly, "Of course not, Marius. You are a treasured friend of this family, and I would never disrespect you like that."

  Marius paused and double took, "Oh…well that is most thoughtful of–"

  "Your arms are not strong enough to carry a sword, much less myself. If I wanted a shoe polisher, I'd have brought my manservant with me. As it is, I've got you, and I thought you, of all the people I know, would not buckle under pressure. Are you going to prove me wrong?" Victor raised an eyebrow.

  Marius gritted his teeth, "No, my lord."

  "Good," Victor smiled and pointed to a figure in the distance, "Do you see what that is?"

  Marius, without truly looking, said, "A castle, my lord. It's a castle." He then jerked his head up in surprise and gasped, "A castle! The castle! Oh, I must make preparations! Goodness, where is the rest of the caravan?"

  "I expect they are back a few paces. Remember? I left early some nights ago in a fit of rage after my father lectured me again on proper etiquette when we arrive. All I wish to see is my Lady," he dreamily slouched in the saddle, "I've only heard of such beauty in tales. Of people so kind, so selfish, that they cannot truly be real."

  Marius rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers to focus the young man, "Fantasizing about your prospective bride is not going to get us any closer to the castle. On we go," he gruffly stated as he yanked on his horse's reins and trudged forward, "The Regent of Bohemia will have my hide for this. Thank goodness I saw you sneak out. If you were by yourself, and managed to slip away from my sight, I would find myself without a home, let alone a small title, right about now."

  "You know, she looked comparable to an angel," the lord clucked his steed forward as well, changing the subject, "I knew she was special the moment I saw her portrait. I must have looked at that painting hundreds of times, just aching to find out what her voice sounded like," he paused to think for a moment, and in the process wiped his caramel-colored hair away from the rim of his helmet, "Come to think of it, she does not even need to talk to prove herself worthy of any man's attention; just her presence would suffice."

  "Oh?" Marius chuckled bitterly and reached for his canteen of water, "So you are an expert on women, are you?"

  Victor chuckled too, "Well, I would try to be humble and say not all women…perhaps just the high-society ones I did get to know at my father's assemblies and, consequently, the parties thereafter…"

  Marius choked on the water, "Oh, the horrid image! Get it out!"

  Victor laughed rowdily, "They called me Victor The Handsome for a reason, you know," he glanced back to see Marius's face twisted in a knot of unpleasant disgust, "I apologize; father really was right. I must curb my language."

  Marius shook his head, "No, not just your language, sire. The only way to hold your tongue is to cut it out of your mouth. Though, from what little I've heard, she has a smart mouth just like you. Perhaps it was meant to be."

  "I can only hope," Victor said as they continued onward, but he paused, suddenly feeling strange, "Marius, you go on ahead…I…I'm going to head back and make sure that the caravan of our people are not lost."

  "Oh-ho! Doth your Conscience and Reason finally control that devious mind of
yours? Hath it inevitably snatched the reins from Irascible Rage and Concupiscible Passion?" Marius laughed.

  Victor pulled back harshly on his horse and turned back around, "We're half a day ahead of them, yet we haven't seen their presence for two morns. Something...is amiss. And quit speaking in the old tongue; you know I despise it."

  "Had you studied and remembered what I taught you, you would have understood that reference. I swear, the Hunyadi's are allowing a goon into their castle. And suddenly, your bride-to-be can wait?" Marius's voice turned to curiosity, though it still contained an air of bile-bitter sarcasm.

  Victor let out a frustrated sigh and rode off without answering.

  Richard gasped in pain as Ana pinned another flower to her hair. Jusztina started to argue with Ana on which necklace and bracelets would look the best, and that gave a welcome respite for Richard to see what she looked like.

  Glancing at herself in the mirror, she only saw a child looking back at her; those little blue eyes, that little pout, those rosy, chubby cheeks that formed into a grimace as she was fussed over, and the mop of blonde curls that forever formed into a rat's nest with its tangles. The child looked back at Richard in anger. The young bride-to-be could hardly blame her younger self for being mad. After all, that small child was fading within her. Soon, all that would be left of this transformation would be the husk of a young woman –doomed to follow her gender's tradition. Ana returned to Richard with a handful of pins and began sticking them into her hair once more. Jusztina was busy deciding between pearls and a simple gold chain with amber tear drops along the sides.

  "Would you quit squirming, my lady?" Ana hissed as she closed one eye in concentration, aware of Loredana hovering over every little detail.

  "I would, were it not for your incessant pestering that I should look like a bouquet of flowers! I look perfectly fine in a simple dress with my hair down," Richard grumbled.

  "Nonsense! Your intended man is arriving today! You must look the paragon of perfection!" Ana blew her auburn bangs from her eyes and jabbed another pin in.

  "You look lovely; just beautiful," Jusztina said as she ruffled the tiers of Richard's blue dress outward and into a flare.

  William stood still for Jusztina as the woman placed the necklace of pearls on her. The younger lady fluffed her curls and puckered her lips. She was wearing a simpler dress, one that Richard would have wanted to wear desperately instead.

  "Let us not forget the other stunning girl in here," Jusztina licked her finger and rubbed a wisp of hair out of William's face.

  "The day will test all of us, which is why we must all play our part, and play it to perfection," Loredana reminded them all for the thousandth time.

  Rodriguez inputted an approving grunt as he opened the door, "Ladies," he looked at Ana, Loredana, and Jusztina, "Would you give us a moment?"

  The ladies-in-waiting curtsied, took to their exits, and closed the door firmly shut on their way out. William bit at her lip and moved away from the royal advisor. He walked straight into the middle of the room with a pensive look on his face. Richard was not sure whether he would address her first, or William. Rodriguez settled on looking out of the window and down at the trailing line of caravans now pouring into the castle grounds to check in. The castle itself was not large enough for the sporting events that would occur in the ensuing days, so the tracts of land outside and near the small village next to it was open for the many families that would be staying here.

  He swallowed and turned around to face two other expectant faces bracing for a yelling match.

  "I will not yell at you, for I know t'would only make both of your sets of ears grow deaf to what I say in an instant," he began, "What I will say is this: The both of you are Hungarian nobles, and you are required to act as such. The whole kingdom has decided to show up in the name of your father's honor. They respect him and his relentless progress in thwarting the Ottoman advance. Even political enemies have come under one banner this week to honor your father, and if you mar his name for your own selfish gains, you will prove to be the suspicious little tarts I think you truly are," Rodriguez narrowed his eyes at Richard.

  She sighed, "I knew it would come to this. Rodriguez, if you think you can scare me into believing that I would destroy my own father's carefully laid out celebration and his reputation therein, you thought wrong. My eyes are solely on pleasing him and meeting my future husband," she stated the last word a little awkwardly, but strongly.

  "That's not what I was informed of, what with you fraternizing with the enemy on the target range a week ago," he snorted as his eyes narrowed, looking at Richard like a common street whore.

  "How dare you– …I will–…What on earth makes you–… He–" Richard shook with anger so much she could feel the individual teardrop beads of the amber clack against one another.

  "This is not a game, Richard. You must stay within your limits, you must open your mouth when spoken to, and you must never stop smiling. I taught you all of this in your etiquette lessons, though you never deigned to listen. Your skills will be put to the test, and I can only pray so much that you will have started to remember what I taught you," Rodriguez felt his shoulders lock.

  "Then I'd suggest that you cease your provocation. After all, it is not just my father's reputation on the line," Richard took a few breaths to breathe and grinned, "It is yours as well, my teacher."

  Rodriguez's eyes widened, "You would dare to cause a scene and take me down with you? You manipulative hussy!" He raised his hand to slap her.

  But a fast hand caught Rodriguez's. The advisor whirled around to face a manservant's stern face. Walter gripped his hand and threw it back to Rodriguez's side. The two men turned to one another and stood there, unflinching, burning each other with their glares. Rodriguez, slightly taller, seemed to raise himself even higher to tower over Walter.

  "Lord Rodriguez, I'll have you remember that The Regent comes to me for the latest news on his daughters. I challenge you to a small mental exercise: what would happen to you if I informed him that you laid a hand on his most precious jewel of the day?" Walter asked calmly.

  Rodriguez blinked as he thought of being thrown into the dungeon, but then he stared right back into the man's glare, "You may think that you can protect them forever, but one day they will be thrown out there," he pointed to the window, "And real men will tame them both."

  "When that day arrives, I shall still be here to watch over them," Walter straightened his posture and leveled with Rodriguez's height.

  "Mhmm, of course you will be," the advisor scoffed and lingered for a moment to let the threat settle in, then unwillingly broke his glare from Walter to leave the room. Rodriguez had no trouble in slamming the door shut as he stomped out.

  Richard smiled at Walter; he returned her expression and walked carefully over to her. Alarm flashed across her face as she noticed him limping.

  "Walter?" she asked in confusion as she stared at his leg.

  He understood the origin of her question and nodded, "Ah, that. Yes, an old battle wound. I fear it is biting at me again. It is nothing that a nice, warm wash cloth could not cure."

  "Walter, if you're not feeling well–" William began.

  "Nonsense, I feel fine," he reassured, "Now go out there and have fun. Really, have fun."

  William walked up to him and gave him a hug. Caught off guard, he kept his arms open for a moment before hugging her back. William held him tightly to herself, even though her dress was beginning to choke her.

  Walter nodded her to the door, "Away with you. Get thee gone, before this sickly sweet moment saddens me."

  William curtsied and left the room.

  Richard, after a moment of considering if she should embrace him too, decided to curtsy, bow her head, and began to walk out of the room.

  And three, two, one, Richard thought as she made the final steps to the door.

  "My lady," Walter murmured, "Do take care of yourself. Do not forget what we talked about."


  "I shan't," she stated emotionlessly, "But 'talking' proposes that two or more people discuss something. And you, servant, did all of the talking. I barely managed to add a word in."

  Walking to the window, Walter nodded, "And I hope you forgive me for it. That was not one of my finer moments, my lady. I had never seen something so irrational happen to you, something so illogical. I saw you and…" Walter cleared his throat instead of saying Vincent's name, "Laying on one another like two lovebirds rolling in the hay. I…you looked like a mistress, not a noblewoman. I saw it within me to correct a wrong," he paused to look at her, "If I was wrong in my assessment of what unfolded, please correct me."

  Richard, with no reason to explode into a fit of rage at his calm words, felt the affront to her honor crumble into a pile of dust, "I! I! …you're right," she rubbed her temples, "Every time he is in my company, I find myself losing that which I hold dearest to me: Reason and Logic. But he throws it all to the wind, as if we're somehow in the heat of the moment, and he cannot sate his desires until they are completely filled and overflowing! But I have to cap the well before I drown, do I not? Before I…before I suffocate. He's indeed too much."

  Walter's sympathy was evident on his face, "Richard, you have always managed the forceful men around you. It is in your nature to beat them down in your pursuit to demonstrate that a young lady can outwit them -and might I add that you do it with such grace under pressure," he smiled, "But what vexes you so about Vincent? Why are you hung on him?"

  Richard glanced away in prideful shame for a moment, "Perhaps none of the previous men ever showed more than a passing affection towards myself. With Vincent, it is far more complicated. He…I can tell what he wants. It's clear for me to see, like the lines on his face and the inescapable grin on his lips. If his expression does not give away what he wants, then his words surely do. They are honey, like mine, and I've never met a man who could match my wit like he can. Even when I can see right in front of me what he really does want, there are always ulterior motives clicking in his mind, there are always three other ideas, or plans he has. I sense their presence, yet he does not allow me entrance into his mind to see what they are."