by M. A. Roth
The horse starts hesitating at every step we take. At this rate it will take forever to reach Saskia. I tug the reins. “Go faster.” He throws his head back and sighs; a cloud of cold air leaves his nostrils. I kick his side. “I said go.” He rears up, nearly throwing me off. I grip his neck to keep myself on the saddle. My heart is pounding. Something is spooking him. I look around me, but it is still dark in between the mountain.
The horse starts moving back slowly. I let him. I’m not risking being thrown off again. I keep looking around to see what is scaring him.
Stones fall down the mountainside. I squeal. The horse panics, moving back too quickly. “Shhh, it’s okay.” I try to calm him, rubbing his neck, but he is freaking out. He moves quicker, fumbling over his own legs. I know he’s going to fall. I jump from his back at the last minute and land awkwardly on the ground. I roll out of the way just as the horse falls on his side. He would have crushed me if I hadn’t moved. He is still kicking his legs wildly, his head thrown back, showing eyes that are nearly all white, and as quick as he falls, he gets up on his knees and then stands. He is facing the way out and he races off. “Hey, come back!” I roar after him, but he’s racing like his life depends on it. I stand on shaky legs and brush gravel off my clothes. Looking around doesn’t help. I can’t see more than ten feet in front of me. It looks like the shadows are moving all around me. I move back slowly and hit the stone wall. How the hell do I get myself into such stupid situations? Here I am alone, in the dark, stranded.
“Okay.” I let out a deep breath and wipe my hands on my trousers. I start walking. Light shines in different areas wherever the mountainside has collapsed, allowing sunlight to escape through. It is now morning. I try to walk in the light as much as possible. I know I’m being followed, but I can’t stop. I reach the next area of light and bend down, pretending to tie my lace. I slip the dagger out of my boot with shaky hands and hold it at my side.
The movements are strong up ahead, but there is nothing I can do, only stay calm until I reach that area and then run. This is the best plan I can come up with. The distance starts closing in, and whatever is just a few feet away doesn’t move, but I can feel their hungry eyes watching me. Shivers run all over me; the hairs on my arm and neck stand up.
They slither out of their hiding places and surround me. “Breathe,” I remind myself. Oh God, this was a bad idea. I grip the knife. If I can take out the two in front of me, I might have a chance at running.
They circle and hiss around me. I turn in a full circle to watch them as best I can. Now is my chance. I run at the one that’s in front of me, sticking my dagger in its neck. The exile crumbles to the ground. The rest seem frozen and I run with everything I have. I can hear their howls behind me as they take chase.
“Don’t look back,” I tell myself and then I look over my shoulder just as one of them leaps off the side of the mountain, taking me tumbling to the ground. I try to stab him, but he hits my knife away, and it clatters to the ground. I crawl back and kick him in the face. He growls and reaches out with long talons, tearing my cloak, ripping some of it off.
I crawl on my knees to get away. Then I’m pushed down, scraping my cheek as he leaps on my back and rolls me over. His breath smells like rotten meat. The other exiles were cheering, but now they’re all silent.
A giant of a man is standing behind the exile. My eyes widen at the sheer size of him. He looks like a warrior from some jungle movie. He is definitely over seven foot tall with jet-black straight hair that hangs down his back. His chest is bare and I’ve never seen such deep black eyes.
He places his hands on the exile’s head and twists, snapping his neck like a twig. He pulls the dead exile off me and throws him against the side of the mountain. I can hear his bones crunch as his lifeless body hits the wall. All the other exiles hunch farther down to the ground, looking afraid. The giant looks at me then and speaks. “My name is Carew. I will give you free passage through the mountains.”
I just nod, afraid if I speak I’ll say something wrong and end up like the exile. I have a second dagger in my boot, but there is no way I could fight this giant. This giant who tilts his head and observes me. “No others will attack you. You have my word.” He nods like his word is final, but I still can’t move, my eyes flick across all the exiles who watch. Hungry eyes blink in and out of my vision as sweat trickles down my back.
“What about you? Do I have your word?” My voice shakes uncontrollably. I swallow hoping my bravery doesn’t turn into stupidity and get me killed.
He inclines his head. “Of course, princess.”
Princess. So he knows who I am. He reaches out his hand towards me. It’s huge, big enough to crush a man’s skull, or a woman’s. I take one final look at the exiles before I slip my hand into his. Mine looks tiny and pale against his. He releases me the moment he pulls me off the ground.
I glance at the exiles closest to us again and they are still bowing low to the ground. “Why are they following me?” I ask Carew. He turns, fixing the creatures with a fierce look, before giving me his full stare again. I shift under the weight of it. “You have encountered them before?” The creatures seem to bow lower, noses touching the rocky ground.
“Yes, one attacked me a few days ago.” He shakes his head. “Our king will be very unhappy to hear that. He will punish the one who attacked you, severely.” His lips tug up into a grin, which sends a shiver down my spine. I want to ask who his king is. But he speaks first.
“It is dead.” The image of the exile from the dessert throwing itself on Tristan’s sword springs to mind, it’s handless limbs has me squeezing my eyes shut until the image disappears.
Carew looks surprised, his eyes roam me from head to toe and I shift my stance. “You killed it yourself?”
“No, my protector did.” That sounds impressive. He looks around, standing on alert. He seems taller as if that was possible but he does. “And where is your protector? I did not smell him.”
“Smell him?” I blurt out.
He looks at me with narrowed eyes, his face growing harder by the second.. “I asked you a question, princess. I expect an answer.” His low voice and the step he takes closer to me has me apologizing.
“Sorry, I’m on my own.” My voice stutters under the strain. My mind is jumping back and forth and his name, Carew is niggling at me. I’ve heard it before. Then I remember where, Musa had said it back at the meeting.
Carew is still glancing around us, and I swear he is sniffing the air. The exiles are watching us again, some have lifted their eyes to us. My pulse spikes with the hunger I see in their eyes. The only thing standing between me and them was this. “Are you their master?” I ask and Carew snaps his gaze to me, I lock my legs and try not to take a step away from him. He tilts his head again as if trying to decide something.
“Yes. Enough questions, princess. You may pass.”
I don’t hesitate as his focus goes back to the mountains around us. I want to get as far away from the exiles as possible. I gather my tattered cloak around me and walk past Carew, pausing in front of the exiles, they part either side and I have to walk through them. I don’t breathe, holding my breath I wait until I am out of their reach. I turn around to find Carew watching me. “Thank you.” I tell him and his brows pull low in confusion as if no one has ever thanked him before. Then the confusion lifts and a dark edge fills his tone. “Go before I change my mind.”
I’m moving quicker until my fast walking turns into a full out sprint. I don’t look back over my shoulder, but I don’t hear anyone pursue me. Yet I can’t stop. I don’t stop in case he does change his mind. My lungs are burning when I finally start to slow down and then the settlement comes into view, with a large castle sitting right in the middle. That’s where my sister will be. Jessica hold on, I’m coming. My heart pounds again when I think of Jesscia being locked away. She’s so fragile, she must be terrified.
My hands tremble now as I take off my tattered cloak and sit a rock
on top of it. I will come back this way and can get it then. Jessica always had a way of knowing how people felt. She was a carbon copy of the people she was around. It was hard to explain. A lot of times when people got to know Jessica they thought she was their best friend, but she made everyone feel that way.
I needed to focus on getting her, thinking about her being harmed had spots in front of my eyes. Tristan’s dagger in my boot gave me some comfort as the kingdom came into view. Seeing Saskia from this point is amazing. The kingdom is huge, stretching for miles, but I don’t have time for sightseeing. I need to get closer and figure out how to get into the castle. That’s going to be the hardest part.
I move down the hill towards the settlement. When I reach the village/city, everyone has taken to the cobbled streets, bartering with goods. It feels for the first time that I have been transported back in time. The smell of home baking tantalizes my senses, but there’s still an undercurrent of sewerage seeping through.
I move through the village with my head down, but I can’t see the castle from ground level. I just know to keep moving straight ahead. Once I find the main square, I find the castle.
There are no walls surrounding it. It just stands huge and daunting before me. There are a lot of people moving towards the castle so I join in with the crowd. As we get closer, I can see guards are scattered everywhere.
Four of them block the main entrance. Their black leather attire is a reminder of Tristan. The sense of betrayal I feel about him not telling me about my sister hurts more than it should. I don’t know him, but I like him, and I thought maybe, just maybe, he liked me back.
I glance at the guards again realizing that this could be a harder task than I first thought. The crowd makes its way to the left of the castle. I follow until a huge wall comes into view. Everyone seems to be moving that way. I break off and move down the wall that is facing the castle.
A side door is slightly open. I can hear the hustle of a busy kitchen coming from behind the door. Steam pours out into the street. I keep my back to the wall, trying to slow down my racing heart.
A stout man with a washcloth slung across his shoulder comes out the door with a large pot. He sloshes it down an open gully. No wonder the place smells of rotten food and sewerage. When he turns to go back in, he stops at the sight of me. “Are you new?” he grumbles. I nod my head. “Get to work, then. The pots won’t wash themselves.” He pushes me roughly through the door while mumbling about how useless his staff is. I move through the hectic kitchen, keeping my head down. I can see a door just up ahead.
“You.” I stop as the man comes after me. “The pots are over there,” he says through gritted teeth while pointing. I go to walk away and he hits me with a wet cloth across the arm. It stings like hell. I want to grab the cloth and hit him back, but I have to act afraid, which isn’t too hard. “Don’t wear clothes like that in my kitchen ever again.”
I nod. “Yes, sir.” I race to the pots and start scrubbing them. They are stacked in rows on top of each other, all caked in different foods. Hopefully he will leave or take a break soon; then I’ll have my chance to escape. I wash the pots while trying to keep an eye out. Steam rises from large pots on the stove and flames jump from pans; the heat is hard to tolerate. Then I see the man going out the door again with another pot. It’s now or never. I make a beeline for the door.
Just before I reach it, a woman grabs my shoulder, spinning me around “Are you dumb? Boss said to wash the pots so wash them.”. I can see she is enjoying this as she smirks and grabs my arm when I don’t move.
“Don’t touch me.” She’s wasting my time. I push her away and try to leave again, but she grabs my wrist roughly. The kitchen staff has gone silent. My anger flares. I grab her arm.
“Get off me,” I say.
She starts to scream, startling me. I wasn’t hurting her. Then the smell of burnt flesh makes its way through the cooking aroma to my nose. I pull my hand off her arm; a handprint is burnt into her flesh. She’s hysterical, jumping from foot to foot. She makes a dash for a sink of water and sticks her arm in. I can hear the sizzling of her flesh. I look at my hands. What am I?
“You!” The stout man is back. No time. I need to get out, so I run. “Stop her!” he roars, but nobody tries. Instead, they stand out of my way.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SARAJANE
I push through the door. The fresh air touches my skin. I gulp it down, erasing the stench of burning flesh. I keep going, not even sure where I am, but I can’t afford to move slowly. The man will more than likely pursue me. Nobody pays any attention as I make my way through the halls. I keep my head down and stay close to the wall without getting in anyone’s way. I look over my shoulder, but the man never follows me. My mind is spinning, thinking of the women. Had I done that? Had I somehow burned her hand. No, that wasn’t possible. She must have burnt it on the stove. But when?
“Watch where you are going.” I smack into a young girl. She’s walking beside a beautiful blond lady that’s dressed differently. Wealth radiates from her. Another simply dressed girl stands on the opposite side of the well dressed lady staring at me with disgust.
“Sorry,” I mumble and try to pass quickly. My gaze flicks up to the blond girl who looks familiar and outrage passes over her face.
The girl I smacked into looks at me with widened eyes. “You bow to Princess Luna, you stupid girl.”
Princess Luna? Oh God, this must be Clive’s sister, my half-sister. No wonder she looked familiar. I’m staring at her with my mouth half open. I try to push that complication aside and bow. “I apologise, Princess Luna.” I tell her, and she seems to stand a bit taller.
“Servant, what are you doing walking down the corridors without looking?” Oh Christ, this couldn’t get any worse. Her words hold a bite and as she speaks, the servants either side of her focus on the floor. I don’t have a clue if looking at her is right or wrong. But she’s my half sister.
“Sorry, but my boss asked me to get clean cloths for the kitchen, Princess Luna.” I bow again, hoping I’m not overdoing it.
“I hope you were not preparing my food in that array?” I look up at her as she takes in my appearance with distaste. She wears the same snarl that Clive had worn. If she knew who I was, I’m sure I would be beheaded by her.
“No, I just wash pots, Princess Luna.” I try to pass again, still bowing, but she just stands in my way.
“You are not from here?”
I freeze at her words. My heart pounds. Does she know of my existence like Clive did?
“I’m new, I’m from Aquaterra.” At the mention of Aquaterra, both servants snap their eyes up to mine but one small glance from Luna has them facing the floor.
“It would explain your loose tongue. But it doesn’t explain why you are walking in my halls.” I focus on the floor as I speak hoping she will just let me pass. “I swore allegiance to King Morrick when I arrived here.” I say thinking of what Alana had told me.
“Look at me.” Her words are quick and when I look up at Luna there is a desperation in her eyes.
“My father. I mean the King when did you see him?”
Our father. “It was a month ago, Princess Luna.” I bow again but when I glance up, she wears a look of confusion.
“What is a month?”
“It’s the amount of days since I swore allegiance.” She’s looking at me now full of suspicion. I have no idea how they count time here, but my heart is pounding again and when she finally sidesteps I nearly sag with relief.
She flips her blond hair over her shoulder and walks off. “She smells like rat poop.” The two girls on either side of her laugh, the sound is forced.
When she moves around a bend, I move faster through the halls, this time looking where I’m going.
A hand tightens around my neck and I try to swing around only to be shaken like a piece of meat. “You are going to the cells.” Boss man from the kitchen starts hauling me back the way we came, I can’t go back. I
t’s not an option. He’s too big to fight so I let my body go limp and fall to the ground. His chubby hand loses its grip on my neck. Once I’m on the floor, I lie still and I can hear him tut in confusion. I move as quick as possible, knowing that anyone could come around the corner at any moment. The dagger slides easily out of its hiding place and I’m standing with it, holding it like I know what the hell I’m doing. He’s backing up against the wall. “Open the door.” I tell him, nodding at the door behind him, his hand twists the knob but nothing happens.
“It’s locked,” he tells me.
“Try the next one.” I order, moving the knife closer to him.
“That’s the supply cupboard.” He frowns but that’s perfect. “Open it.” He does. It’s not a cupboard but a room that has wide shelving stacked high with an assortment of things, from linen to boots, even food on them. I close the door behind us.
“You know you will be hanged for this.” His words have my heart nearly coming out of my chest. But I ignore him until I see rope further down.
“Shut up,” I bark and he holds his hands higher as I make him walk deeper into the room. Taking the rope, I throw it at him. “Tie your feet.”
He sits down and I watch him as he does. ”Double knots.” I order, wanting him to hurry up. He glances at me now, his face red with anger. When I check the rope, it’s tight. Taking a second one, I start at his hands. I have to put the dagger down, sitting it on the shelf beside me doesn’t help. I feel like a small girl again. He’s a large man, and even with his feet tied he could over power me. I don’t have a clue how to do double knots and I can’t ask him to do it so I tie the rope as tight as I can, and as quick as I can. He doesn’t budge until I finish and reach for my dagger. The impact of hitting the ground steals the air from my lungs. I roll as he tries to pound me with his joined hands. I’m standing and he’s still on his knees shuffling. He looks up as I grab the dagger and try to catch my breath. He’s shaking his head as he looks at the knife. I take a piece of linen and cut a strip off, stuffing it into his mouth and tying the remainder around his head. I think about knocking him out, but I wouldn’t have a clue how to. Instead I force him to shuffle into the back corner of the room before I leave quickly. It will take him some time to get out of his bounds and out of that room.
