by Billy Wong
"You know where you're going to stay?" Ann asked.
"No. I don't know anything about this place."
"Follow me, then." She led him to one of the small, drab buildings nearby, which turned out to be an inn. Inside, she walked up to the man behind the bar and said, "This is Mark. See that he gets taken care of for the night."
The barkeep signaled to a voluptuous woman in a low-cut blouse, who hurried to Mark's side. She took his arm and tried to lead him away, but he turned to Ann, headed for the door. "Where are you going? Aren't you going to pay?"
She looked back, smiling. "I never pay. Anyway, this is where we part ways. Good luck."
"You too. Thanks for everything!"
Ann pranced to the door, mimicking a waitress' sultry sway of her hips all the way. Mark stared, laughing.
The barmaid showed Mark to his room, a cramped little cubice with just enough room for the drawer and bed. But the food was good, as he found out when he ordered the roasted lamb. When he asked for the price, the woman smiled and said, "We'll get it from your friend. Or her father, anyway."
He reached into his purse and removed a copper coin, which he put in her hand. "Well, I doubt he'll tip you too."
Mark slept easily that night, glad he had already made a friend. What a woman, that Ann! She was open and funny, and could certainly fight. He still couldn't believe her tolerance for pain. He wondered if the young Brianna had been like her.
#
Morning had barely come when Mark heard a knock on the door. Struggling out of bed, he rose groggily to open it. Standing there was a young man, tall and thin with straight blond hair. Dressed more elegantly than most Perfians Mark had seen, he wore a buttoned jacket of black silk and matching pants.
"You are Mark?" he asked.
"Yes, that's me. And you are..?"
"My name is Saul. Ann is my sister."
Mark's heart skipped a beat. "Did something happen? Is she-"
"No, no, she's fine. Lost a ton of blood, but she's strong as an ox. No, I came because apparently, she had to kill a nobleman for you."
"What?!"
"You really don't know. One of those 'bandits' chasing you was Sir Crawford of Arrith. Who are you, exactly?"
"I'm the adopted son of Owen Kanwick, Earl of Julpy. My birth mother, who I'm searching for, is the woman they call Brianna the Brave."
Saul's eyes widened, then he grinned. "So that's who you came here looking for. Sorry, but she left already."
Mark let out a sigh. "I suppose it isn't such a surprise. I did hear she came here at the request of an old friend—maybe he asked some favor of her, which she's left to fulfill?"
"You have it right. Ann was so disappointed to be tricked into not going with her. Though of course, your mother might have ended up killing her for disobedience if she had gone."
"Are the stories about her brutal leadership true?"
"I wasn't there," said Saul with a shrug. "My father, who fought with her in the war, does think she went too far, but my sister disagrees."
"But didn't you just say Ann would get herself killed under my mother's command?"
Saul chuckled. "Yes, since she'd be the one taking—or failing to take—the orders. But if she were in charge, she'd want her men to obey her every word."
"What strikes me is that if I hadn't been under attack by bandits, I really believe she would have made me pick flowers to replace the ones I ruined. But because I was, she risked her life to save me and acted all nice even after she got hurt doing it. I just don't understand."
"Ann's like that. She'll do anything on a whim. I think old Sir Pelter said it best—'That girl has neither inhibitions nor fear. I wager she'd walk into hell to rescue her man, and then kill him for sleeping with a succubus.' That's Ann."
Mark poured a drink from the pitcher of wine on his drawer, then offered it to Saul. "I wouldn't want to get on her bad side, that's for sure."
Saul sipped delicately from his glass. He was Ann's brother? He seemed much more refined than her. Were they members of a noble family, too? "No. But we've gone far from my original question. Why was Crawford chasing you?"
Mark thought about it for what seemed a long time, but nothing came to mind. "I don't know. I was sleeping when a noise roused me. I woke to see a bunch of men trying to steal my horse. Next thing I knew, I was fleeing from those ruffians."
"You have enemies?"
"I don't think so, personally, but my father... yes, that's probably it. But thirteen men to get me?"
"Did they seem like they wanted to kill you, or only to capture you?"
"I don't know. They did shoot arrows at me, but maybe they were just trying to scare me."
Saul nodded. "Maybe they were trying to capture you. That could be harder to do, though thirteen is still quite a lot of men. Maybe there were just that many in the group they hired."
"Yes, but why would they want me?"
"Perhaps they wanted you as a hostage to use against your father. I assume there are important negotiations in his future?"
Mark frowned. "Yes, but nothing to do with Arrith. He is going into talks with the Duke of Kulten in a couple of months, about the new canal from Julpy to-"
"Would Arrith not benefit from a canal as well?"
"Yes, but it wouldn't make sense to extend the canal there." He shook his head. "It's much farther away."
"So? The Duke of Arrith would not want Kulten to reap the rewards of increased trade, while he is left out."
"But why would he kidnap me? Wouldn't he try to negotiate for it peacefully first?" Then, Mark remembered he had already done that. Like Mark moments ago, Owen had dismissed the idea offhand. "Never mind, I understand. He must be an evil man."
"Yes, I would say so. But you did not know this?"
"It contradicts the reputation I know of his."
"A sham, Mark. The most wicked of men are often the smoothest. Have you studied politics much?"
"Of course I have! I'm the son of an earl!" He paused, softening his tone as he realized Saul was not mocking him. "Only from books, I admit. I haven't had the opportunity for much firsthand experience. My older brother Clint is the heir, so my expected future is as an officer in the militia."
"You know, if the talks are next month, they might come after you again."
Mark's mouth twitched with fear. "And? What should I do?"
Recognizing his unease, Saul put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, you don't have to do anything. Just stay here for a while. Ann will watch over you."
"She can protect me? One girl against the resources of a duke?"
"She beat thirteen men, didn't she?"
Despite his worry, Mark felt himself smile. "You're proud of her."
"Why, of course. How could anyone not be impressed that his little sister can fight like a hero out of legend?"
"How the hell is she so tough? Her wound would have incapacitated most men, but she took it like nothing!"
"I don't know." With a wink, he added, "Some rumors say she's demonspawn—that our mother was implanted with the seed of a fiend during the Vorhen War. She told me you didn't see her fight. You should have!"
"How does she fight?"
"Like she's twice the size she is. I mean, she is very strong for her size, but she really seems to think she's a giant. Luckily, she uses her speed well enough too."
Saul stood as though to leave. "Wait," Mark said. "My mother, where is she?"
"The southern plains. Don't worry about it, I'm sure she'll be back soon."
Mark knew Brianna could probably handle anything that happened, but was quite anxious to meet her. But he thought of the men who had attacked him, and decided he would be better off waiting. He would not have escaped without Ann's help.
"All right. So Saul, what do you do?"
Halfway out the door, Saul shifted from foot to foot as though considering his words. He turned to look, grinning, back at Mark. "I'd like to say I'm a historian, but what really keeps me busy is lear
ning my family trade. I'm next in line for the throne of Perfia."
It took a moment for the words to sink in and Mark's eyes to budge from their sockets. "Y-you're a prince? King Leo's son? But doesn't that mean that Ann... Ann..."
Saul's grin widened. "Yes, Mark my friend. Yes it does."
Chapter 6
Saul guided Mark through the stark castle and into a courtyard where soldiers practiced with surprising intensity. Ann sat on a bench at the yard's edge, watching with a bored look as she fingered the hilt of her sword. Mark could tell she wanted to fight, and only with considerable reluctance allowed her injured body to rest.
"How are you feeling, sis?" Saul asked.
"I'm fine," Ann said, loudly over the noise. Then she saw Mark at her brother's side, staring at her. "What's going on?"
Mark continued to stand there and gawk until Saul slapped him on the back. "You didn't tell me you were a princess."
"Why should I have? You would have just been even more scared of me dying if I did. You might've been so scared, that you would have tried to run here and dropped me."
"You're crazy." Before he could blink, the tip of Ann's sword pricked his throat. His heart leapt, and he broke out in a panicked sweat. "Please don't kill me, please. I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
She let out the laugh she had been holding back and lowered her sword, lightly slapping his head instead. "I wouldn't kill you for insulting me. But I know exactly what you mean."
The two men sat, flanking her on the bench. As Mark slowly regained his composure, Saul said, "You're not the only one who's been keeping secrets."
"No?" Ann asked.
"Can you guess who Mark's mother is?"
"No, you haven't given me any clues. Who?"
"Your hero."
"My what? Mark is Brianna's son?" Ann's eyes were huge with disbelief. "I thought her son died!"
"She pretended I was dead in order to protect me. She gave me up to save me..."
Ann licked her lips. "Huh. So you came here looking for her. You came a bit late; she already left."
"I know. She sure left quickly."
"Like I always say, move fast when you've got someplace to go. So, are you planning to do the same?"
"No, I think I'll wait like Saul suggested. I can hardly drag you after me to look for my mother."
"Why not? I'd love to come."
Saul glared at her. "Ann!"
She looked glumly at the dirt beneath her feet. "Yeah, I know. Princesses can't be wandering off whenever they please."
"What exactly did my mother go to do?" Mark asked.
"My father sent her to talk with the tribes of the southern plains, who've been migrating north as of late and threatening to overrun our borders. Seeing as your mom has made friends among those brutes in the past, father decided it would be a good idea to have her find out what's going on and try to stop it."
"Ann is mostly correct," Saul said, "except for the 'brutes' part. The plains people may not be as advanced as ours, but they are no Vorhen."
"They worship animals!"
"Not as gods. They worship the spirit, which they claim to be shared by man and beast. That's a bit different."
"In any case, Mark's going to be bored waiting in an inn for however long. Think we can let him stay in the castle instead?"
Saul frowned. "Come on, sis. We both know you get whatever you really want, but how will Kyle take this?"
"Who's Kyle?" Mark asked.
"My bodyguard." Ann rolled her eyes. "He's not a bad person, but worries way too much about me. I can obviously take care of myself, but he prefers not to see that."
Saul elaborated. "Kyle is our best knight, and has been her personal babysitter for a little over a year now. Father gave him the job after she killed a nobleman she caught raping a woman, starting a brief civil war here. Yes, he is somewhat overprotective of Ann, but it's understandable—as you've seen, she has no reservations about throwing herself into the path of danger." Saul smiled. "She gives him fits."
"Why wasn't he with you when you met me?" Mark asked.
"I ran away from him. What? I don't want his stony stare weighing on me while I'm trying to pick out flowers."
"I should meet him, if we're going to be friends."
"What makes you think we're friends? Maybe I only saved your life out of pity."
Before Mark's shock could turn into anger, Saul put in, "She's joking. I can tell when she likes somebody."
Ann laughed. "Yeah, Mark, you can be my friend. You're a wimp, but I'll make a man of you yet."
"So do you think I should meet Kyle?"
Ann shook her head vigorously. "No, especially not now! I bet he hates you already."
"Hates me? But we haven't even met."
"No," Saul said, "but Ann got stabbed saving you. It doesn't reflect well on a bodyguard for his charge to be seriously wounded."
"He treats me like a child," Ann complained. "Doesn't he know I can take care of myself?"
Mark looked down. "What does he look like?"
"Why, so you can know who to avoid? Smart of you. He's in his mid-thirties, tall, dark, and bald. He has a big scar on the side of his neck, though you might not want to get that close to notice it. Oh, and he always has his sword on him, because he's paranoid."
"Didn't you have your sword and daggers while out picking flowers?"
"Well, I'm a princess—I practically have a target painted on my back. So yes, I'm paranoid."
Mark laughed.
#
They talked for a bit of life and their lives, and then Saul's mathematics tutor called him away. "What does a prince need to know advanced math for?" he muttered before he left.
Mark noticed Ann touching her side and occasionally grimacing as they talked, and eventually asked, "How are you? You're really supposed to be in bed, aren't you?"
"What do the doctors know? I'm a tough girl."
"I know you are, but you got stabbed with a sword. How bad is it, really? Does it hurt to walk?"
"I told you, it's not that bad. Just a flesh wound."
"You've lost a lot of blood, though. Is it so important to watch the practice? What if moving around tears your stitches?"
She gave him an admonishing look. "On and on and on! I'm smart enough not to hurt myself too badly. And there aren't any stitches. Some salve and bandages, that's enough."
"You really should rest until you're healed up."
The edge in her voice surprised him. "You don't trust me. Nobody trusts me."
Mark touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'll trust you. Who was that wreath for?"
"The one I ordered from the flower lady?"
He laughed. "Yes, that."
"It's for a friend. He's running in a race today, and I'm going to give it to him beforehand."
"A friend?"
"Oh, are you jealous already?"
"No, I-"
"Relax! I think I'll have to teach you how to recognize a joke, too. Anyway, no, there's nothing serious between us."
"Nothing serious?"
A wistful look came into her eyes, and she grinned. "A couple romantic evenings together, that's all."
Mark studied her face carefully. "Are you making a joke now?"
"Nope. Part of what drives Kyle nuts, is that I have a tendency to act like an unpaid whore."
For a moment, Mark was taken aback by the princess' language. Then, he remembered she was Ann. He decided to play along. "Now you must be joking. Whose house did you spend those nights at? Did you somehow sneak him in here?"
"No, I went to his house."
"And your father let you?"
"I snuck out of the castle."
"How?"
"Easy. I climbed down the wall, then swam the moat."
He could almost imagine it. "So you're not a virgin."
"Not for years now. I need to change my bandages."
Ann stood, and Mark followed. "Should I come with you?"
"I don't know why you'd
want to watch. Let me show you to your room. And tomorrow morning, you come straight to the yard. I want to see what you can do."
She led him to his new room, which he found considerably more appealing than his little niche in the inn. A canopied bed rested in the center of the chamber, and an oak closet stood in one corner. On the wall beside that hung an oval mirror, and below the mirror sat a short set of drawers. But though the room was well furnished, the walls and floor were bare and the window tiny. Even the royal castle of Perfia seemed sparse in comparison to the dwellings of Widalia's nobility.
To his surprise, his pack already lay on the bed. "I sent somebody to fetch it from the inn," Ann said.
"Thanks. Get some rest, Princess."
"Why? I'm not tired! See you at practice tomorrow."
#
Kyle strode onto the balcony, where the king stood watching the sunset. "Have you seen that boy Ann brought here?" he asked as he leaned against the railing.
King Leo continued to gaze out into the distance. "No, I have not yet found the opportunity to meet him. But Saul has spoken of him. He sounds like a good boy."
"Your daughter was nearly killed because of him!"
With a sigh, Leo turned to regard the knight. "He was being chased by bandits, and Ann saved him. She did a good thing, and you know she can take care of herself."
"But I failed you, my king. I let your daughter out of my sight, and was not there when she needed me."
"I am not angry at you. Young Mark happened to be under attack when Ann met him, and we should be grateful that she was strong enough to save the both of them."
"Yes, my king." Kyle turned away, knowing his luck had almost run out yesterday. The king feigned calm, but Kyle knew how he feared for his daughter's life. If she had been hurt worse—or killed—Leo would be distraught. Kyle remembered him crying over Ann's wounded body last year, when she had taken an arrow in the chest and he thought her dead.
Yet after he found out she was pretending, even though she had a pierced lung, he'd refused to visit her sickbed. Kyle wondered if this tough love contributed to making Ann equally willful and stubborn, the little bully she was today. She was totally reckless, and a magnet for trouble. If not for her annoying personality, Kyle would have wanted to follow her everywhere. Sometimes, he even wished he could just lock her up.
