The Princess Fugitive

by Melanie Cellier

  He seemed to fall in slow motion but Ava forced herself to tear her eyes away, scanning for other assailants. Mathilde was hiding between two of the horses, her eyes wider than Ava had ever seen them, and Sarah had her hand clasped over her own mouth although a whimper still managed to escape.

  Ava opened her mouth to suggest the other girls move closer, where she and Evelyn could more easily protect them, when two more figures burst into the clearing. Evelyn spun to meet them, her reddened blade raised in challenge but a second later she lowered it, a soft sigh of relief on her lips. The newcomers were Hans and Aldric and both were breathing hard as if they had been running fast or fighting hard.

  Aldric moved straight over to the horses and took Mathilde into his arms. Ava couldn’t hear the soft words he was murmuring into her hair but she could see the relief in his eyes. Hans paused for half a second, his eyes meeting Ava’s with a similar relief, before his gaze skimmed across the arrow and dropped to the dead man in front of Evelyn.

  “Apologies,” he said, his voice hard. “That one got away from us. We’ve taken care of the rest but we need to move, now. Our only chance is to be at the gates of Rangmeros when they open at sunrise.”

  His words snapped Ava out of the temporary paralysis brought on by her relief and she rushed to help Sarah with their horses. Unfortunately, just as Evelyn had promised, she found the other girl retching in the bushes. She moved towards her but Sarah waved her weakly away. Torn, Ava hurried to finish saddling their mounts. By the time she had finished, Sarah had emerged looking shaken but resolute and Evelyn had cleaned and sheathed her blade and gathered up their waiting packs. When she moved towards their bedrolls, Hans shook his head.

  “Leave them,” he said, “we won’t be needing them again.”

  Evelyn nodded once and swung herself up onto her horse. The others followed suit and they were out of the clearing and pounding down the road before Ava had the chance to catch her breath.

  They galloped their horses for as long as they dared but eventually were forced to reduce their pace to a walk. They were moving down the middle of the deserted road, unwilling to risk the verge in the light of the moon.

  Ava knew she should feel sleepy but instead her mind and body were buzzing with leftover energy from the fight at the campsite. She had to refrain herself from kicking Cinnamon back into a gallop before the horse was sufficiently rested.

  Despite her impatience, the pace they set was blazing and the first rays of the sun were only beginning to creep over the horizon when she saw the distant walls of Rangmeros rising from the fields.

  Part 3 - The Trials

  The Guard

  Despite the absence of trouble, Hans remained on high alert as he kept watch over his sleeping companions. It was their last night on the road and their proximity to the capital made him uncomfortable.

  Thankfully, years of guard duty had taught him how to maintain vigilance while still allowing part of his mind to wander free. It was a necessary skill in a job that was otherwise mind-numbingly boring.

  But, as was so often the case, it was a struggle to keep the free part of his mind from dwelling on the princess. Unacceptably often he found his gaze drifting towards her sleeping face. She looked so peaceful in sleep, in a way she rarely did when awake. She had made significant progress since her encounter with the High King, though.

  The thought brought up the memory of his own interaction with the man. He had been everything Hans had always desired in a ruler, everything that King Josef had never been. Swearing fealty to him had been an easy decision.

  It hadn’t been so easy to accept that the High King was sending Ava first to her enemies in Arcadia and then back to face her brother. He would have preferred that she give up on Rangmere altogether. For a brief moment he had even entertained the appealing dream of the two of them fleeing to southern Lanover and living a contented life as two regular commoners.

  But he hadn’t fallen in love with a commoner. He had fallen in love with a princess. And one who was born and trained with the steel of Rangmere in her veins. It had always been an empty and hopeless dream.

  It wasn’t the loss of such a future that tormented him now, it was the fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect her from her brother. It made his senses extra sharp but it also brought his gaze back to her face more frequently than he liked. Once again he forced his eyes to return to the surrounding trees.

  We will survive, he told himself grimly, we will win. We have to.

  It was hard to make himself switch off when Evelyn woke to relieve him of duty. Eventually he managed it though and slipped into a light sleep. He stirred when Aldric replaced Evelyn but rolled over and quickly returned to slumber. He remained close enough to consciousness, however, that he was awake instantly when Aldric lightly touched his shoulder.

  He could tell immediately that it was still several hours until morning and that something must be wrong. As soon as he sat up and saw the other man’s face, he was sure of it.

  Standing silently, he grasped the hilt of the naked sword lying beside his bedroll. Scanning the clearing he could see no sign of a disturbance. He looked back at Aldric with a question in his eyes.

  The Northhelmian put his mouth against Hans’ ear and whispered, “Men, in the forest, I’m sure of it.”

  Hans felt a fleeting moment of relief, that the trust he had placed in Aldric had not been misplaced. The emotion was quickly swallowed by the needs of the moment, however. His mind whirled as he formed a hasty strategy. There was no time for anything fancier.

  “We need to flank them, take them out before they attack,” he whispered back almost soundlessly and Aldric nodded grimly. The other man was clutching a long dagger and seemed ready for action. He led the way across the clearing, carefully stepping around their sleeping companions.

  When he reached Evelyn’s bedroll, he paused and raised his eyebrows at Hans. Hans shook his head vehemently and gestured towards the other sleepers. Aldric seemed to understand and continued on without any further pauses.

  Hans didn’t dare wake the rest of the group, they were already pushing their luck to surprise their pursuers as it was. And he didn’t dare take Evelyn with them. If Hans and Aldric failed, it would be up to Evelyn to protect the princess.

  He felt slight relief when they entered the trees without eliciting any further sounds from the men Aldric had heard. He could only hope their counter-ambush remained intact.

  Aldric led them unerringly forward, picking his way silently through the underbrush. Hans gripped his sword hard and followed, equally silent. At last Aldric stopped and gestured Hans to come up beside him. He had led them around so that they were now looking at the backs of three men, who were hiding in the trees a reasonable distance from the clearing. Their view of it was hampered by several thick bushes and they didn’t appear to have noticed that two of the sleeping group had disappeared. They were all dressed in the motley garb of a typical brigand but Hans recognised their swords as standard palace issue weapons.

  Sloppy, thought Hans, shaking his head. He would never have permitted his own guards to behave so carelessly. Even as he thought this, one of the men crept forward to a spot behind a tree and peered around it at the sleeping figures. His eyes narrowed and he turned sharply towards his fellow soldiers.

  Realising that someone had spotted the empty bedrolls, Hans raised his arm ready to signal Aldric to attack. He was confident of the odds, even without knowing Aldric’s skill level.

  Before he could drop his hand, however, the man who had been observing the clearing turned his face upwards, as if he sought confirmation from the treetops. Hans frowned in confusion and then a small flash of moonlight against steel showed through the leaves.

  An archer!

  Without pausing to signal to Aldric, Hans sprinted towards the tree, swinging himself into the lower branches before any of the soldiers could react. The man crouched above him already had an arrow on the string and was aiming down into the clea
ring. Hans didn’t need to look to know who he was aiming at.

  Reaching up, he grasped the man around one ankle, throwing off his balance just as he released the arrow. Giving a strong tug, Hans then dislodged the man completely. He fell to the ground with a thud and Hans jumped down after him, dispatching him before he could struggle to his feet.

  Looking up, he saw that one of the men was frozen, staring at his fallen comrade in astonishment. The other two, however, were closing in on Aldric who was desperately trying to fend them off with his dagger.

  Hans rushed to his aid and managed to take one of the men by surprise from behind. He fell to the ground and didn’t get back up. Now that the two against one odds had been reversed, it didn’t take long to finish off the other man. As soon as Aldric was safe, Hans whirled around to find the remaining attacker.

  He was gone and now that the heat of battle was passed, Hans could hear the sounds he made as he burst into the clearing. For half a second Hans and Aldric exchanged stricken looks and then they both took off running.

  As he pushed his way through the underbrush, Hans reminded himself that Evelyn was a skilled guardswoman and that the arrow had given them warning. He couldn’t allow himself to think that he might have failed and that Ava might be hurt or dead.

  He cursed his carelessness and wondered what else he might have missed. Had there been more men? Would there be more attacks? Or had someone made a run back to Rangmeros? Nothing about the attack made sense. Konrad obviously wanted deniability in case he was unsuccessful but, even so, sending only four men made it a chancy business at best. Surely there was more to the prince’s plan?

  They would have to leave immediately and ride hard for the city. Their only chance was to get to the safety of the Magistrate’s Guild before Konrad could spring whatever trick he had planned next.

  When he pushed through into the clearing, the first thing he saw was Ava, standing upright, her knife in her hand. For a moment the relief was so overwhelming that it erased all other thought from his mind. She was alive and that was all that mattered.

  Then his eyes skimmed over the arrow, which was buried sickeningly close to Ava’s empty bedroll, and the body of the fourth man lying at Evelyn’s feet.

  “Apologies,” he said, his voice hard. “That one got away from us. We’ve taken care of the rest but we need to move, now. Our only chance is to be at the gates of Rangmeros when they open at sunrise.”

  Chapter 21

  There was a small pool of farmers still making their way through the newly opened gates when the group arrived at the walls of the city. Once again, Ava and Hans lurked at the back of the group, hoods up and faces down. Unlike the border, they weren’t required to produce any papers to enter the city and if Konrad had received word of their approach, they didn’t want to be identified as the same group that had crossed the border a week ago.

  Ava risked a brief glance up but she didn’t recognise any of the guards posted on the gate. She cast an enquiring eye towards Hans but he shook his head slightly.

  “I don’t recognise any of them,” he muttered. “They look alert enough but they’re not inspecting people too closely…”

  Ava fought the desire to hold her breath, forcing herself to breathe deeply instead. When it was their turn to approach the gates, one of the guards stepped forward, his eyes examining the group closely. Hans reached under his cloak and it was Ava’s turn to shake her head subtly at him. Their only chance was to get out of this without a fight.

  Just before the guard reached them, however, a guard on the other side of the gates called to him loudly. An ornery farmer was arguing about some spilled vegetables and the second guard wanted backup. From what Ava could gather, the farmer was blaming the guard for ruining his produce and demanding compensation. The guard who had been approaching their group sighed and redirected himself to the altercation.

  Taking advantage of the opportunity, they rode quickly into the city. Once they were all safely past the gates, Hans moved to the front of the group and led them through the streets. The rest of the group formed up protectively around Ava so that she was shielded on all sides from interested eyes.

  No one attempted to stop them or even paid them any notice. The city traffic was still light, given the early hour of the morning, and everyone they passed seemed intent about their own business.

  An unexpected surge of affection and energy filled Ava as she travelled the familiar streets. She had never thought of herself as being attached to Rangmeros but she now realised that she had missed the city.

  Unlike Arcadie, which was arranged in giant circles around the palace, Rangmeros was a large square. The city had been built at the foot of a cliff and the dark grey face loomed far above the buildings. The castle had been built flush against the rock, its back defended by solid stone, and the city jutted out from the castle, a giant square divided into six equal rectangles. Each district was named after a colour and dominated by a particular segment of Rangmeran society. The Purple District, directly in front of the palace, was populated by the nobles while the Blue and Red Districts which flanked it were populated by the artisans and the military respectively. In front of these districts were three more, the Green, Yellow and Orange Districts. They were more densely populated and were filled with merchants, shopkeepers and labourers.

  It was these districts Ava was riding through but they seemed as familiar as the castle or the Purple District. She was sure the city looked dark and grey to the Arcadians who were used to the bright and airy feel of Arcadie but she found all the surrounding rock to be comforting. It felt like an extension of her beloved castle, all squared edges and grey stone walls.

  Despite the names of their districts, the people too were dressed less colourfully and more practically than the people she had seen in Arcadie. But there was still the occasional window box of flowers or the flash of a red dress.

  Hans led them to the Blue District where the great Hall of Magistrates stood. It was in this building that countless generations of princes had registered their claim to the throne. Even though he had no brothers to contend with, Konrad would still have completed this formality. Ava squared her shoulders; she would not be intimidated by her brother. Her right to rule was greater than his since, unlike him, she had committed no acts of treason.

  She almost expected to see a wall of soldiers guarding the front entrance to the Hall but there was no one in sight when they approached. As always, the great front doors had been thrown open at dawn so that any member of the populace could enter to register a dispute.

  Evelyn volunteered to watch the horses, so the other five mounted the broad stairs leading into the Hall without her. When they reached the wide doorway, Ava paused and took a breath. She knew that once she stepped into the Hall, there would be no true rest until the Trials were over, one way or another. Hans stepped up beside her and she smiled up at him as she took her first step into the building.

  They found themselves in a vast marble lobby, the sound of their footsteps echoing coldly around the huge space. On either side of them, elegant staircases curved gracefully to a second level where Ava could see glimpses of a long row of office doors. Across from the front entrance was a large mahogany desk occupied by a sleepy looking clerk.

  He looked up at the sound of their approach and seemed mildly put out to have such early visitors.

  “Good morning,” he said, rather woodenly. “For civil disputes please complete form 4A, for trade disputes, please complete form 3C, for…”

  Ava cut him off with a raised hand. He stared at her, affronted.

  “I have come to see the Head Magistrate,” she said in a clear, ringing voice.

  “Have you indeed?” he asked. “Well for that you’ll need to fill out form 2B and place it in the left slot in the wall. Your request will be reviewed and, if approved, you will receive notification of the time and date of your appointment.”

  “I have come to register my claim to the throne,” said Ava, ig
noring this speech.

  “Yes, well, as I said, you’ll need to fill out form… wait, what did you say?” he asked, his mind catching up with his mouth. “Your claim to the throne?”

  For a moment he stared at her, his eyes almost bugging out of his head and then he breathed two words. “Princess Ava!”

  Before she could confirm her identity, he had taken off running and had soon disappeared into the back portion of the building. She turned confused eyes on her companions.

  “It seems that our friendly clerk is scared of ghosts,” said Aldric dryly.

  “I can’t say that I blame him,” said Sarah. “I’d probably have been terrified in his place.”

  “You might have been shocked,” said Mathilde, “but I’m sure you would have been a great deal more polite. When you’re queen, Ava, you’ll have to have a word with the magistrates.”

  Ava couldn’t resist casting an amused glance at Hans who was looking down at her with equal humour reflected in his eyes.

  “If I’m crowned queen, Mathilde,” she said, “I’ll give you full royal approval to whip all of my clerks into shape. I have no doubt you’re capable of it.”

  To her credit, Mathilde recognised the humour behind Ava’s words and laughed at herself.

  “I’m much too busy cleaning up the Arcadian palace now that Alyssa’s princess.” She winked at Ava. “But I’ll keep my eyes out for a suitable Rangmeran to take on the job for you.”

  Before Ava could respond to this rather terrifying offer, the clerk reappeared in the foyer. He had somewhat regained his equilibrium and he offered Ava a small bow.

  “If you would follow me, Your Highness. I will conduct you to the Head Magistrate now.”

  Ava nodded regally and sailed after him, her companions following at her heels. He led them through a small wooden door and down a long corridor. The floor was covered in thick, red carpet and the walls were decorated with large oil paintings each depicting a previous Head Magistrate.