She glanced behind her one last time. The castle towers glimmered with their candlelight, vivid banners waving with the wind. For her whole life, she’d been held captive within those stone walls. She tore her eyes away, allowing bittersweet tears to fill her eyes and stream down her cheeks.
“Goodbye.” She turned and ran before any more tears could fall.
Skirting behind trees and jumping over rocks, she fled as quickly as possible. She was out of breath by the time she made it to the outlying edge of Soron Village, a world of its own in the shadow of her father’s castle. She leaned behind the closest home.
Peeking around the corner, she saw people running. While the castle dozed in the aftermath of the tournament, the village bustled with the rhythms of everyday life. Men returned from working in the fields, lining up their equipment and livestock. Women tidied their gardens and pulled down laundry. The momentary break of the day’s event didn’t stop life in this community.
She clutched her bag close and felt the smooth silk of her dress. Looking down at her midnight blue gown, she recognized it as a flashing alarm, announcing her identity to everyone. Too late to change. She tried to hide in the shadows of the trees.
She ducked beneath the windowsills, listening to the joy of the families. The air filled with the giggles of children and the lingering scent of ham. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered as the sweet smell hit her. Both hands darted down, trying to stifle the noise, but it didn’t work. Afraid that someone might hear, she bent down and ran as low and quick as she could through a wheat field.
The wheat smacked her face, each golden piece striking out at her. Her body flew forward as she tripped over a rock. Throwing her arms out in front of her, she braced her fall, groaning as pain shot through her knees.
Madeline looked back to see what she had tripped over, and stopped. A few feet away, large brown eyes peeked back at her. Their eyes connected for a brief moment in mutual shock. Slowly, she crept closer to the girl, whispering for silence.
The girl, not much younger than herself by the looks of it, glanced back toward the village, fear obvious in her eyes.
“Wait,” the princess said, as loud and forceful as a whisper could sound. “I need your help. Please.”
The girl looked back at her cautiously.
“I can give you gold,” she blurted to keep the girl from scooting away. “All I need is your help and your clothes.” The other girl looked down at her apron and then at Madeline’s gown. Madeline could see the deliberation in her eyes, shifting from startled fear to hunger and greed.
She looked at the bag of gold in Madeline’s hands and untied her stained apron, handing it over to Madeline in a tight package of brown smudges and small rips. It was obviously her work smock and was covered with stains, dirt, grass, and sweat. Madeline scrunched her nose at the smell, but threw it over her head without a second thought.
She looked down and smiled. She no longer looked like a princess. No one would give her a second glance now. She upheld her promise and handed over her gown and the bag of gold. She met the girl’s big eyes with her own.
“You’ve saved my life more than you know. Now, one last thing,” she said, leaning in to whisper into the girl’s ear.
The girl’s eyes widened and she stepped back to appraise the princess. “Are you sure?”
Madeline nodded. “Thank you.”
The girl shook her head and cupped her hands around the bag of gold, making sure none of it spilled out as she ran away.
Madeline’s vulnerability faded under her new guise. The commonness of the apron made her feel invisible. Only one more small touch was needed. She bent down and grabbed a handful of dirt, cringing as she rubbed it over her face and through her hair. The grittiness gave her goose bumps. She pulled up the hem of her dress and apron and ran as fast as she could. By the time she reached the forest at the edge of the village, she was out of breath again. With one last quick look around, she closed her eyes and plunged into the woods in front of her.
Sounds came at her: whispers of breezes, birds chirping in the wind, the flapping of wings, and the crunching of twigs. Suddenly the excitement of her recklessness turned to fear. She froze, not so sure about the sounds of freedom.
She moved deeper into the woods, holding her breath, watching the trees thicken around her. A noise startled her. She jumped, trying to force herself to remain still, but nothing happened. Letting her breath out, she convinced herself that she’d imagined it, until she heard it again—a loud branch breaking behind her. Crouching low, with her knees pressed into her chest, she gripped her fingers into the cold dirt. Turning around, she gasped, eyes wide open, as she saw feet racing toward her.
Darkness flooded her vision as the pain came crashing down on her head.
CHAPTER SEVEN
King Theodore paced his study and slammed his fist on the table. How could she do this to him? He pounded his desk again, toppling over his prized model ship. The delicate masts broke.
A leather-backed chair squeaked as he pulled it away from the table. He hung his head and lifted the small wooden pieces.
“It seems a strong hand can hurt without meaning to,” he sighed. The tiny pieces dropped softly. “What am I going to do? A king that can’t control his princess. How can I get her to understand?”
His blood boiled the longer he thought about Madeline.
He sighed and looked at the mess on his desk. How had any of it gotten to this point? His eyes filled with tears as they strayed to the portrait of his wife.
“Father!” Braden yelled storming through the door. “It’s Made— ”
King Theodore’s head jerked up at the intrusion. Jumping to his feet, he swung his crimson robe and walked around the desk.
“Young man!” he stammered, “you forget yourself.”
“But Father, wait. I have to tell you—”
“What you have to say isn’t that important. Nothing is more important than common courtesy,” he interrupted, feeling his face redden.
Braden stood quietly by the door.
“Now stand up tall and listen,” he ordered. Braden straightened his back.
“Father,” Braden tried again, but was silenced by the king’s raised palm.
“No, son,” he answered sternly, his voice on the verge of cracking. “I will have at least one child that obeys. One day you will be king here, and you’ll need to know the importance of patience and timing. You’ll need to act according to your station in life. Patience is important, one of the foundations of a respectable ruler. You need the ability to listen and hear both sides of a situation.”
He waited, watching his son stand still with a look of obedience on his face. King Theodore smiled. He hadn’t lost his touch. The chair creaked as he moved it back to sit down.
“Now,” he said, easing himself down. “What is it exactly that made you rush in here, forgetting yourself?”
Prince Braden looked at him, hesitating, making sure it was all right to speak. “It’s Madeline, Father,” he said. “She’s leaving.”
“What?” he yelled, pounding his desk. The wooden ship fell over again with a loud crash. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Braden stared back at him, his jaw dropping.
“Of course,” the king murmured, “I forbade you. Let’s go see if we can talk some sense into her.” He walked to the door and slammed it behind them.
With each step he took toward Madeline’s room, King Theodore felt his anger rise. When they reached her chamber, he heard silence. He looked pointedly at Braden as he knocked on the door. No one answered.
“Madeline, open the door this instant!” he yelled. Again, no one answered.
He fumed and counted to three, feeling his anger boil with each passing second. His lips tightened, fading to white. Nostrils flaring, teeth flashing, he raised the bottom of his robe and kicked in the door.
The door flew open and banged against the far wall. He stomped around the room, tramplin
g her discarded clothes and dolls.
Braden stood outside the doorframe, peeking in from around the corner.
“Madeline,” King Theodore yelled. “Come out now! We need to talk.” He walked around the room, looking beneath the covers, behind the plush chair, and in her closet.
“Madeline?” he called out again. Worry strained his voice as he looked down. Lying on the floor in a discarded heap of clothes, the green silk gown called to him. He felt the soft silk drape as he held it in his arms. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as he leaned back onto the edge of the pink chair.
Braden shifted back and forth, looking at him with a startled expression. “Father?” he asked, taking a small step into the room.
He didn’t even turn around. He couldn’t take his eyes off the dress as he spoke to his son. “Braden, go get the men ready. Have them meet me in the grand hall.” King Theodore laid the dress out on her bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before walking out. He didn’t look back.
The grand hall echoed as he walked to the throne. He held onto the edge of the seat, feeling the cold stone. The silence deepened the pit in his stomach as he waited.
Before long, the knights piled in, running to position before him. When they all appeared, he looked at each in turn. Their red eyes stared at him, questioning their summons. Each face wore a mixed look of exhaustion, excitement, and confusion. In his worry, King Theodore had forgotten about their long day.
He paused as he came upon Sir Daniel, weary from the competition. Beneath his strained eyes, the king saw concern. Daniel knew something was wrong.
King Theodore placed his hand on Daniel’s shoulder and nodded. Now was the time for him to prove worthy of his new position. The king needed him to find and protect Madeline, at any cost. He cleared his throat.
“Knights of Soron, brave and loyal men,” he said, looking at each in turn. “I ask a lot of you today. This is your moment of truth, your moment to prove your loyalty, and your moment for devotion to our kingdom.” He paused, letting his words sink into their tired minds.
“We have lost someone precious, precious to me and to our kingdom. Princess Madeline is missing. I need you to find our princess and bring her back. There is no time to waste. I want you to find her. Find my Madeline,” he pleaded.
Questions burned on confused faces. No one knew what to say or where to begin.
“Do not ask. Just go!” he ordered, sinking back onto his throne.
Daniel jumped and gave a final salute before walking out the door. A line of men followed. They were on their way.
“Now to pray they find her quickly,” he whispered to himself.
He sat back in his throne. Grief struck him in a way he hadn’t felt in sixteen years. A new sense of helplessness rolled over him as the hall emptied.
***
Madeline drifted in and out of consciousness. One moment pain erupted in her forehead, another moment she sank into deep emptiness. Floating in and out, she incorporated her surroundings into her sleep.
She knew her captors were walking. Her body swayed with their footsteps, and pain flooded her head in beat with every step. Pound, pound, pound. There was no relief. Barely opening her eyes, she peeked to see what was happening, but the pain in her head clouded her vision. A musty, sweaty odor lingered in the air and in her nostrils, filling her mind with visions of rotten meat. Trying to concentrate on something else, she felt something sticky rolling down the side of her face. The ropes tying her arms and legs together bit into her skin, deepening the wounds as they moved. She would have screamed, but a rag choked back her words.
She couldn’t see her captors, but from their smell and grunts, she imagined vile-looking creatures. Their muffled voices rumbled, and she started counting the trees that they passed. The trees got thicker and thicker, blocking out all light from above. A pit opened in her stomach and a wave of dread flooded her as she sunk back into darkness. They were going deeper into the forest and there was nothing she could do.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The deep red sun had dipped below the horizon when they began their search. Their trumpets blasted through the night air, announcing the urgency of their actions. At the king’s command, the knights spread out to search for the missing princess.
King Theodore separated his men into four groups, each combing a different area. The knights who had served the longest spread north of the kingdom, braving the myths of dragons. Others were deployed to the south, the western forest, and to the surrounding village. No one ventured east toward the exiled lands, a mysterious, abandoned place beyond the Blue Mountains. When people went there, they never came back.
All the weariness from the tournament disappeared under the adrenaline. The castle rang with action. Their armor clanked as they ran over the cobblestones, and their swords jingled as they jumped on their horses. Daniel carefully tied his shield onto the side of his horse as he led a group down to the surrounding village.
On his way to the village, Daniel stole one quick glance to the east. The mountains shimmered in the last rays of the sunset. The reds had faded, almost disappearing into a sheet of twilight blue and gray fog that settled over the horizon. His horse pulled him forward. One last look, and Daniel turned to face the village, hearing the king’s words echo in his mind. He intended to prove himself worthy and find her.
For hours, confusion rang through the air. Knights tromped through the village, searching houses and barns. The air filled with the stomping of hooves and cries of the princess’s name. Doors opened and closed to no avail. People looked out from their shuttered windows, concerned and curious.
At house after house, Daniel pounded on the door. His desperation grew. No one knew where she was. He had given up hope by the time he approached the last house in the village.
The other knights had finished their search and regrouped near the tournament grounds. He saw their red banners hanging from the sides of their horses. They hadn’t found any information either.
He approached the last house on the street and peeked through the windows when no one answered his knocks. A candle flickered in the windowsill, assuring him someone was home.
Cupping his hands against the dusty glass, he saw a family sitting around a table, leaning close in conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, when he turned back to knock again, something grabbed his attention. He took a closer look, and his anger burned.
Daniel didn’t stop to knock; he broke down the door.
“Where is she?” he demanded, pointing his sword at the man standing behind the table.
The family looked up, quiet and pale at the intrusion. The father moved forward, knocking the chair behind him. His wife pulled the item off the table and dropped it into her lap.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, a deep scowl on his face.
Daniel faltered for a moment, then stood upright. He was the knight champion. He had every right to be there.
“Princess Madeline,” he demanded. “What have you done with her?”
The man paled and glanced back at his family.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, moving closer to where Daniel stood. “We don’t know where the princess is. Now, please leave.”
Daniel stood his ground but lowered his sword. “Sir, I am sorry for intruding, but I saw her gown on the table.” He pointed to the man’s wife and daughter, who were huddled together, shaking. “I looked through your window, and you were all sitting around Princess Madeline’s dress. Now where is she?”
The man’s face stiffened.
“Knight, we know nothing about the princess.” He pointed to the door and motioned for Daniel to leave.
Daniel refused. Placing his hand back on the hilt of his sword, almost threatening, he pointed again.
“That’s her dress. That’s the dress she was wearing at the tournament this afternoon. How can you explain that?” Daniel looked at him and then at the family
, pleading for help. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”
The girl looked down at her lap and mumbled something under her breath. Her mother’s eyes widened.
“You’d better tell him,” the woman said, eyes downcast, as she pulled the dress off her lap onto the table.
The girl looked at Daniel and then lowered her gaze, unable to hide the shame and fear in her eyes. She shifted her glance to her father, then back to Daniel. He almost felt sorry for her, seeing the nervousness in her face. He wondered what type of trouble she would be in.
“We traded. She said she didn’t need it anymore, and we traded.” She rubbed her hands back and forth. “I know, I shouldn’t have, but she begged me.” The girl broke down and leaned over to cry in her mother’s outstretched arms.
Daniel walked over to her and knelt down, taking ahold of her shaking hands. “Did she tell you anything else? Anything at all?” he pleaded.
She looked him in the eyes. “Yes, she did tell me one thing. She said she was done and was going where no one would find her.”
“Did she say where, exactly?”
“She said that the king had exiled her, so that was where she was going.” She covered her mouth. “I wouldn’t have done it if I knew she was the princess. I never would have let her go.” Her words jumbled together in sobs.
Daniel smiled at her before rushing out the door. “Thank you. The king, and especially I, thank you,” he said, running from the home as fast as he could. He peeked back in the window. The girl sobbed into her mother’s arms, while the father stood behind them, bewildered.
Daniel jumped onto his horse and turned him to the east, not stopping to regroup with the other knights. There was no time to waste.
He rode through the dark of night and the layer of building fog that grew thicker the further he rode. It was as if he were riding over nothing. If not for the occasional rock outcrop, he might have gotten lost.
It wasn’t until the fog had lifted that he stopped.
The Escape of Princess Madeline Page 5
