“Your mother thinks this dinner is important. Why do you want to look at maps and talk about war anyway? Your mother doesn't do that."
"My mother wasn't raised to be queen, her parents never expected to do anything but marry a rich man. No one ever thought she would be Regent." The Lady Carlana Trehayme was a loving mother, and, in the opinion of her daughter the crown princess, a frustrating disappointment as Regent. Until Ariana became queen on her sixteenth birthday, her mother would exercise power in Ariana’s name as the Regent of Tarador, although exercising mostly meant her mother timidly did nothing, while Tarador’s allies became fearful, and the power of her enemy grew. “Someone needs to think about defending Tarador, since my mother is too afraid to do anything about it.”
Nurellka knew Ariana disapproved of the way her mother was handling her Regency, so she changed the subject. "That dress is beautiful.” Nurellka she said, setting her clothes down over the back of a chair.
Ariana stood still in front of the mirror, smoothing the gown so it lay properly against her. “This would be a beautiful wedding gown.”
“And why are you thinking about wedding dresses?” Nurellka shook her head in mock amazement, “Is there a young man you have in mind? Perhaps Mark Yarron?”
“Oh, he’s so dull.” Ariana hung the dress back up, no longer in the mood for playing dress-up. The purpose of Ariana getting out of the palace to visit Duke Yarron and his family, in their home of LeVanne province, was for her to get to know the Dukes and Duchesses who would be her vassals, when she became queen of Tarador. Since the snow had melted off the roads in the springtime of the year, she had visited Duke Romero in Winterthur, Duchess Portiss in Anchulz, Duke Magnico in Rellanon, and now Duke Yarron in LeVanne. All were allies, or at least not active rivals, of the ruling Trehayme family. All were unfailingly polite and gracious hosts. All had seen to the crown princess’ every need and desire. And all had tried to subtly point out how smart, how handsome, how strong, and how responsible their eligible sons were. Whether those sons were aged twenty two or ten, as long as they weren’t already married, could walk without tripping over their own feet, and could manage not to be completely tongue-tied around the lovely young crown princess, none of their parents had missed an opportunity to push their sons at Ariana, in case she showed any interest.
She hadn’t, not yet. Some of the boys were cute enough. Now, after being constantly on the road, and away from the palace that was her home, all she wanted to do was go home. “Does my mother really expect me to choose a husband now? I’m not even fourteen. I haven’t even kissed a boy yet!”
Nurellka looked away, out the window, so the young princess wouldn’t see her suppress a laugh. “You had better not choose a husband now! Your mother expects you to show interest in all of these boys, to string them and their parents along, give them hope, and keep them guessing. Until you’re sixteen and you get your crown, you and your mother are at the mercy of the Regency Council,” the dukes and duchesses who ruled the seven provinces of Tarador, “and your mother needs leverage over that pack of scheming jackals, until you’re safely on the throne.”
“They’re not all jackals.” Ariana sniffed. “The Yarrons have been allies of the Trehaymes for centuries.”
“And the Magnicos you can also count on, in a pinch.” The Magnicos had inherited Rellanon province from the Trehaymes, when the Trehaymes had taken over the throne of Tarador. “That’s two out of seven provinces. The others are either against you, or would go against you, if it bettered their own positions. Your mother needs to worry about this now, and you need to pay attention, if you want that throne waiting for you in a couple years." When Ariana’s father, Adric Trehayme, had been killed in battle eight years ago, he had only one child, five year old Ariana. Her mother Carlana had been chosen to serve as Regent, and rule Tarador in Ariana’s name, until Ariana was old enough to become queen. Adric’s brother had more interest in drinking wine and racing horses than ruling Tarador, and the seven dukes and duchesses of the Regency council had all wanted power for themselves. No duke or duchess wanted to support a rival for power, so Carlana had been a compromise to serve as Regent, a compromise agreed to because the dukes and duchesses thought Carlana was weak, and easily controlled. Since the day she was elected Regent, Carlana had one goal: to ensure her daughter assumed the throne on her sixteenth birthday. To do that, Carlana and her daughter needed to strengthen bonds with their allies, and keep their rivals off balance.
Ariana sighed. She knew all this. Her mother reminded her about it, almost every day. “Nurry,” Ariana said, reverting to the name she had called her maid as a little girl, “today, all I want to do is ride down the river and have a picnic. It's the one thing I've wanted to do since we got here. Even if I have to go with Yarron's brats."
“Then let’s get you dressed properly. You can’t go out in the woods in your nightgown.” Nurellka pointed to the clothing that lay over the back of the chair.
Ariana hugged her arms tightly around herself. “It’s chilly out there, why can’t I wear pants, like the boys all do? I saw some girls wearing pants yesterday.”
“Those were peasant girls were harvesting potatoes in the fields, and only some of the youngest of them were wearing pants. You don’t work on a farm, you’re a princess, and princesses don’t wear pants.”
“When I’m queen, I’m going to declare that all women can wear pants, if they want to.” Ariana said stubbornly, and picked out a woolen dress to wear.
“When you’re queen, you can wear soldier’s armor, and a fruit basket on your head, and everyone will think you’ve gone mad.”
Ariana laughed at the thought of such an absurd outfit. “This dress will be warm enough, and good for riding.” Ariana had wanted to ride a boat down the river, where they would meet her guards, have a picnic lunch, and ride horses back. It was a beautiful autumn morning, chilly, but promising to become sunny and warm. Soon enough, she would be back at the palace, stuck inside for the winter. One nice thing about being a princess was being able to order her guards around. It almost made up for having to wear dresses.
Koren woke when a large drop of dew fell from the tip of a leaf, right onto his nose. He yawned and stretched and rose wearily to his feet, stretching his cold and stiff muscles. It was chilly that morning, and the trees were tinged bright red and orange as the leaves began to turn color, summer was certainly over. A mist covered the ground in the forest, gathering thick in the low pockets of land. And the forest, in summertime filled with a chorus of insects buzzing, birds signing and little frogs peeping to each other in spring-fed ponds, was silent. Too silent? He sat still, listening intently, for he knew birds stopped singing sometimes if danger were near. Quietly, slowly, he climbed the two lower branches of the tree he'd been sleeping under and looked around. These weren't his woods he'd been camping in, these weren't anyone's woods, that he could tell, he had explored for miles and found nothing but old campsites. The forest was a true wilderness. He pulled his only jacket tightly around him, shivering, blowing on his hands to warm his stiff fingers before he made his way back to the ground. Today, he needed to find straw or dried moss, to stuff inside his jacket and pants to keep him warm, before winter arrived.
Using dry leaves that he'd kept inside his jacket overnight, Koren started a fire, blowing gently on the flickering flames to make it burn hot and clean, carefully adding twigs and then small sticks. Smoke and steam would drift through and above the woods and let anyone around know where Koren was, and he didn't want anyone finding him. Especially, he didn't want anyone sneaking up on him, for not all the dangers in the wilderness walked on four legs.
As he warmed his fingers, Koren looked around the woods, at the sheltered spot where he'd been camping. With summer gone and winter approaching, he needed to think about building a real shelter where he could survive the cold. These woods had plenty of game, the river had plenty of fish, and Koren hadn't seen any people around. No, not this place, he decided, he woul
d keep walking south for another couple weeks. South meant warmer temperatures, if his mother was right about that sort of thing, she was from somewhere in the south of Tarador. Yes, south for two or three weeks, then he needed to find or build a shelter. He had been out in winter cold overnight before, while hunting with his father, but they had always been able to wait for good weather, and the warmth of home had never been no more than a day or two away. But this winter, he would be at the mercy of the weather, with only his wits to keep him alive until springtime.
Where would he go? It didn't matter, as long as it was toward the south. He didn't have any particular place to go, he'd given up trying to find his parents. That first night that he'd traveled alone, he came to a crossroads, where the roads went in four directions. Wagon tracks led every which way, leaving no clue to where his parents had gone. Not more than two miles further south was another crossroads, where three roads went south, across three bridges over the river. His parents had been clever, Koren had to admit, they had abandoned him at the best possible location, so that he had no chance of following them. And his parents had left him his pack, which had knives, fishing hooks, and other supplies that should be enough for any farm boy to survive in the wilderness. Koren had gone from being shocked, to sad, to angry, to grudging acceptance at his fate. His parents were gone. They had given him a chance to survive on his own, now his future was up to him, and only him. As his father had said, however bad Koren's lot in life, someone out there had it worse.
Not knowing where else to go from the first crossroads, he had walked steadily in a generally southerly direction, trying to stay ahead of the changing seasons, keeping away from towns, and out of sight as much as possible. Once, when he was very hungry, he had snuck onto a farm and stolen a handful of eggs, but as he sat down to eat them, he considered the children who likely lived on the farm. The missing eggs would not go unnoticed, and the children would get into trouble with their parents. Koren lost his appetite thinking that he might cause some other boy or girl to be abandoned by their parents, so he returned to the farm before daylight and put the eggs back. Since then, he lived on plants he found in the forest, and fishing and trapping provided just enough food. His pack contained his meager supply of possessions; two knives, fish hooks and twine, flint for starting fires, a length of rope, a small tarp, a thin sweater and a jacket. Koren was not terribly worried about being able to survive in the forest, except for during the winter. No child grew up on a farm in Winterthur province, boy or girl, without knowing how to hunt and fish, how to make clothing out of deer hide, to make a bow and arrows, how to find plants and roots to eat.
For this morning, he had a few wild potatoes and carrots that he’d found the day before. With a fire started, he huddled next to it for warmth while he roasted the vegetables for breakfast. When the carrots and potatoes were roasted soft, he munched on them, watching the small fire burn down. Koren stood up abruptly, kicking dirt into the fire to put it out without any smoke. Fires reminded him of home, a fire glowing on the hearth in their cozy kitchen, warming the house on a cold day, with a pot of stew hung over the flames, and his mother stirring and sprinkling in seasonings. Fires reminded him of home, and he now didn’t have a home, or a family, so he didn’t want to be reminded. When the fire was safely out, he ate a roasted potato while he made his way through the forest. It was time to check on the trap he’d placed in the river, to see if any fish had been caught during the night.
He hopped on rocks out into the river, to where he had set the trap. It was in a good place, for just downstream, the river picked up speed as it fell through a series of rapids, the strong current should push fish into his trap. Success! He would eat well that day, he thought hungrily. There were three fat fish swimming in the trap, Koren quickly lowered the upstream gate so the fish could not get out. With one of his knives, he sharpened the end of a stick, and held it like a spear, waiting for a fish to swim close-
Voices startled him, and he crouched down behind a rock. Sound traveled far across water. He heard deep voices, more than one man, and a higher sound, a girl? What were they doing, here in the wilderness? Koren had not seen a single person for three weeks, and he had been camping in these very woods for eight days. He tucked his knife into his belt, used the spear for a balance, and leaped across rocks back to the shore, to hide behind bushes on the riverbank.
A small boat floated into view, such a boat Koren had never seen before. It was no more than twenty feet long, narrow, brightly painted, with the carved head of a dragon on the front. A man paddled at the front, and two more men used paddles at the rear, in between were two boys and a girl, roughly his age. The men were armed with bows and short swords, and the children were wearing brightly-colored clothes the likes of which Koren had never seen. Even the Baron of Crickdon county could scarcely afford such fine clothing.
Where was the boat going? Surely the man in the bow could see the rapids ahead? He did. The man called out, and the boat turned, steering for a gravel bank just upstream from Koren. Koren had a moment of panic, his pack was hanging from a tree, near where the boat was headed. Everything Koren owned was in that pack! He needed to crawl through the bushes over to-
Koren never finished that thought. The strange boat was almost ashore, the man in the front had laid down his paddle and swung a leg over the side to get out, when there was a blood-freezing roar, and the largest bear Koren had ever seen burst out the woods and crashed into the boat. Before anyone could react, the boat flipped over, spilling everyone out, the two men in the back were trapped underneath, the two boys were flung onto the gravel bank, the girl was tossed out to land with a splash in the river, and the man in front was knocked to fall face-first into the water.
The bear stepped back, momentarily confused, then focused on the girl, and bounded over the upturned boat. The man who had been in the front of the boat rolled to his feet, and tried to draw his sword, but the bear swatted him with his great paw, and the man was flung onto the shore, his sword flying away into the river.
Koren expected the girl to scream as the bear reared up in front of her. Instead she reached down to the river bottom, picked up a smooth stone, and threw it to hit the bear square on the nose! The bear stopped in its tracks and covered its now-bloody nose with a paw, the girl lost her balance, and stumbled backward to hit her head on a rock. She slumped on her back, her face barely above the water.
The bear shook its head, dropped its paw away from its nose, and rose up on its back paws to stand over the girl, its front claws glinting like daggers in the sunlight.
Koren’s feet were splashing into the river before he knew what he was doing. He shouted something at the bear, holding one hand, palm outward toward the great beast, his other hand reaching for the girl. To his great surprise, the bear was pushed violently backwards, it rolled to sit on its haunches in the river, swinging its front paws around like its face were being attacked by a swarm of bees. The bear roared again, splashed back to the shore, crashed head-first into a tree, as if it were blinded, and disappeared into the forest, bellowing as it went along.
Koren was so surprised to still be alive that he fell right on his butt into the chilly river, up to his waist. The two guards who had been under the boat were now standing near the boat, looking dazed but holding their swords with grim determination. Koren turned to look for the girl, she had lost her grip on the rock and was drifting helplessly into the current, her head barely above the water, one arm waving weakly. As she drifted by, she and Koren locked eyes for a split second.
They were the most beautiful eyes Koren had ever seen, ever imagined, a striking pale green that drew him in. How a moment could last a lifetime, Koren didn’t know, but in that moment, time stood still, and he was lost.
Help me, her eyes pleaded.
“Boy! You, boy! Get away!” One of the men warned, as he splashed unsteadily into the river. Koren knew the man would not reach the girl in time, she was already being spun around as the river gathere
d force to rush through the rapids. Koren hauled himself to his feet, and saw that his only chance to catch the girl was to leap from one rock to the next until he was right at the first rapid, he might be able to jump in and hang onto the girl as she was swept by. He jumped wildly from rock to rock, his feet skidding and slipping, bruising his knees and knuckles as he steadied himself from falling. Just as he reached the last rock, he saw the girl plunged under the water. Koren took a deep breath as he launched himself into the air.
Somehow, Koren found the girl under the water, and held onto her. Held onto the girl, thinking of nothing else but clutching her to him as they were carried along, plunging down one rapid after another. When he could, he held the girl’s face up so she could breathe, even so they both swallowed water and choked as he struggled to stay afloat. His body was battered as he was bashed against rocks by the tremendous, unrelenting force of the water. Atop one swell of water, just before they plunged down over a fall, Koren saw a relatively still pool to the right, and willed the water to sweep him in that direction. As they fell, he kicked his feet with all his might, before the swirling water spun him upside down, and he swallowed a mouthful of water. Koren gagged and almost lost his grip on the girl as he spat out water. He needed air. Desperately, he twisted to lift his head out of the water.
And found they were floating in a pool, a backwater where the current lazily spun around. The girl coughed, spitting out water. Koren swung his legs down and found he could stand on a rock, with the last of his strength he waded onto a wide, flat rock near the riverbank and pulled the girl to flop down next to him. The girl rolled onto her side, coughing and choking out water. “Help!” Koren managed to cry, between breaths.
When he could move again, he reached out for the girl, she was dazed, her eyes open but unfocused. Her dress was torn, her arms and legs covered with bruises. Koren tried to stand, and found his own limbs so battered and cold that he could barely control his hands and feet. Blood seeped from cuts and scrapes all over him, his already rough pants and shirt now ripped in so many places he could never patch them together again.
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