*
Everything sounded like it was coming from far away. The return to consciousness was a slow process. Eventually the sounds were closer, her mind was her own and she remembered her name. Esmerel, I am Esmerel, she thought. Then it flashed back to her, the market, the strange little man with the bulbous head and Rekulen, Rekulen the betrayer. Her eyes snapped open. Though dazed, Esmerel could make out her surroundings, limited as they were. She could feel the cold chains around her wrists which linked to a ring on the floor of the coach which rumbled over rough streets.
She could see Rekulen opposite her, cloaked again. The driver was on top of the carriage, in front of it a team of four horses pulled them at great speed. Thick curtains hung around the cab but there were gaps through which the Princess could glimpse the city. The Princess was used to travelling by sky-ship, or on the back of a unicorn, in contrast the carriage felt bumpy and rocky.
“What do you think you are doing?” asked Esmerel. Her voice was croaky, her throat dry from whatever Rekulen had used to drug her. “I asked you a question”, she croaked more loudly at the silent being opposite her in the carriage.
“I am taking you somewhere safe”, he said.
“By drugging me and chaining me up? I am the daughter of Corul Geddon, do you have any idea what they will do to you?”
Rekulen pulled back his hood and looked at her. He was just as she remembered before she lost consciousness. “They will do nothing, your father and the kingdom are about to be confronted with matters even more pressing than a missing Princess”, his voice was low but with a hard edge to it.
Esmerel stared at the hair so blonde it was almost white, the pale blue eyes and the ears, the high pointed ears.
“Are you an elf?” she whispered. He spread his hands.
“There are no elves in Avalen”, he said. Before she could quiz him further she heard several screams. Looking through the small gaps in the curtains Esmerel could see fires, tall fires as if whole buildings were burning. They were passing down a side street but through the alleyways she could see in the main boulevard more fires and large numbers of people. The screams continued, coming and going as they rumbled through the streets.
“What is happening?” she asked. Rekulen looked out.
“Riots. First it was just the memory dreams, protesting against what they see as imprisonment in a land where they will be forced to confront their mortality rather than the unconscious passing that they would feel in the Dream Sea. But the King’s new watchmen are a heavy-handed bunch. They have stirred up many of the dreams against the King with their tactics. So now they riot and burn on seven of the nineteen pillars.”
“Then why are we here?”
“We are less likely to be pursued moving through an area of instability, anyone coming after us will assume that we are using one of the more peaceful routes through the city”, he replied.
“I demand you return me to the palace!” said the Princess.
He smiled; it was not a cruel smile, it was almost sympathetic as he shook his head.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked meekly.
“Somewhere safe”, said Rekulen, donning his hood and leaning back as the carriage made its made down the dark and frightened streets of Fenn.
Beyond the Dream Page 29