Unable to pass up the opportunity, the Princess commented, “Since my maid has apparently lost the use of her tongue, Lieutenant, please come in and be welcome.”
Floanne jerked her head around to glance at her mistress, the look of admiration quickly changing to one of chagrin as Sofia’s smile caused her to blush even brighter.
“Lieutenant Ronald Marton at your command, your Highness,” he began. “It is with the greatest pleasure…”
“Save your speech for one of my sisters, Lieutenant. I’m sure it is a good one, but I want to get this over with.”
Wisely keeping whatever else he had planned to say to himself, Ronald held out his left forearm. Once the Princess laid her hand on it, he escorted her down to the courtyard. The ten man escort stood next to their horses ready to mount at a signal from their Lieutenant. The Queen arrived with her Seneschal and the four Governors, then gave a short speech praising her daughter’s courage and the sacrifice she was making for her country.
As the people cheered, the Queen came over to stand in front of her daughter. Searching Sofia’s face for any sign of emotion, the Queen sighed, “May the Blessing of the Eyes comfort and protect you.”
“Thank you, my Queen.”
After bowing to the Queen, the Princess spun on her heel and climbed into the coach before the Lieutenant had a chance to assist her. Bowing to his Queen, he proceeded to his horse and the entire escort mounted as one. Riding to the head of the column, he raised his arm and motioned the escort forward. The sound of trumpets mixed with the cheers of the people as the Princess and her escort slowly disappeared through the palace gates and onto the bridge.
***
High atop the Palace, a young woman watched the proceedings below.
“Is everything in place?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Half of the men will be waiting at the planned location. The rest of us will follow at a discrete distance. It should be easy.”
“Do not fail me Erik. Every one of them must die. The only thing I require is that you bring me the chest.” Watching the coach enter the gate, she continued. “Mark my words. I will be Queen. Those who have served me well will be rewarded.” She turned to the swarthy faced man with a look that made him shiver. “Those who fail me will never know the end of their suffering.”
***
The blood drained from Floanne’s face as the coach passed through the gates of the Palace, and began to travel across the bridge to the mountain. Sofia gently took hold of her maid’s trembling hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. Tear filled eyes turned to regard her mistress.
“I am so afraid, Your Highness,” she whispered.
“I will let nothing harm you, Floanne. In just a few moments we will be across the bridge and free. If something does try to prevent you from leaving, I will deal with it.”
At the end of the bridge, the coach shuddered to a halt, the horses frozen in their harnesses. The air inside of the coach rippled as a shimmering mist formed the outline of a man’s face and a disembodied voice declared.
“This one is not allowed to leave the Palace. Return or she will die.”
The Princess stood up and planted herself directly in front of the terrified Floanne.
“I have sworn to protect this woman with my life. If you attempt to take her, you will have to take me first. As a Princess of this realm, I command you to let her go.”
An ancient power buried deep inside of Sofia’s soul began to stir. The spirit hesitated, recognizing that power, and then relented.
“So be it. The responsibility for the safety of this woman and the item she carries falls on you. You are now marked as Guardian.”
A searing pain above her right breast knocked Sofia back onto the seat just as the coach lurched forward and crossed the end of the bridge to the mountain path.
“Oh look, Your Highness,” Floane exclaimed. “We are across the bridge, and I am still alive. You were right. It was just a silly story my grandmother made up to scare us.”
“I told you that no harm would befall you as long as we are together,” Sofia said as the pain in her chest swiftly faded from memory. “Now let us enjoy the ride through Kiplar as we still have a long journey ahead.”
Chapter Four ~ Together Again
Emma watched from the shadows across the street as Navon disappeared inside the stable. ‘Was I ever that young and foolish?’ she wondered. Maybe he wasn’t foolish, just innocent of the ways of the world. It was such an obvious trap, she had been sure Navon would realize what was happening and leave Twin Oaks as fast as his feet could carry him. Unfortunately, the setup worked perfectly, and he was now in the hands of his enemies.
What to do? Her orders were clear; observe from the shadows and only interfere if his life was in danger. Her instincts told her these men had no intention of killing Navon, and would keep him alive at all costs. But she would do everything in her power to prevent them from delivering the boy to the Dark Lord.
Four heavily armed men exited the stable and took up positions around the wagons. A small man, with a hood up to conceal his face, was followed by two more men dragging the unconscious boy between them. The leader and one of the men entered the coach. After helping them lift Navon inside, the other man climbed to the driver’s seat and grabbed the reins, ready to leave. Emma could do nothing here in the village, especially against six armed guards. She would just have to follow until an opportunity presented itself.
The kidnappers pushed their horses hard all day, with only a short rest in the early afternoon. As long as they stayed on the main road through the old forest, Emma would be able to keep up. Descended from the Elintria, an ancient race of tree dwellers, she could travel through the trees just as fast as the men on the road as it meandered back and forth through the forest. She would have to attempt a rescue tonight before the road entered the river plains sometime tomorrow.
As night began to fall, the kidnappers stopped in a clearing alongside the road. There they set up three small tents for the guards and one large tent for the leader and Navon. Apparently, the guards were trained as two man teams, which meant that they were professional soldiers in someone’s employ. That would make a rescue even more difficult.
While Emma stood hidden behind some brush and watched the men as they set up camp, a wickedly curved blade appeared in front of her face, and a large hairy hand covered her mouth. Just as silently the hand and knife disappeared. She wasn’t afraid, she was seriously irritated. Sebastion was the only person she knew who could see her when she didn’t want to be seen, and could sneak up on her so easily. He was an ogre she had hoped never to see again. By the time they reached his small camp, she had resigned herself to the fact they would have to work together again.
“So little one,” he growled. “I be thinking it not so smart you to be rescuing the boy alone, yes.”
“Sebastion, you big hairy oaf. What are you doing here? And don’t call me ‘little one’.”
“I just camping here be,” he smiled. “South I going, you be finding. Lucky, you be finding me.”
“Don’t tell me you were sent to watch over the boy also?”
“No,” he chuckled. “I be sent over you to be watching, Em. Sometimes knife in your head bigger be than knife in your hand, yes.”
“Wipe that dumb smile off of your face, Sebastion,” she said glaring. “It’s still only the two of us against six professional soldiers, and I have a bad feeling the leader is more than he appears.”
“No little one. Many, not two,” Sebastion nodded as a number of large grey shapes slipped into the clearing. The largest stopped in front of Emma and sat back on his haunches.
“Silver Star,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his fur. “My heart sings at the sight of you. It has been so long, I thought I would never see you again.”
“Later reunion time be,” Sebastion rumbled. “Now boy be rescuing, yes.”
“You are right, but first I must ea
t,” she said pulling away from the elder wolf. “I hope you have some extra food. I’ve been running through the trees all day to keep up with the horses.”
“Surprised I be, you not be stealing acorns from squirrels, or snatching insects while be running through trees. Only bread and cheese I be having.”
“Very funny. ‘Oh great hairy one’. I see you haven’t improved your speech in the last year either, have you?”
“I can speak properly when I want to Em. Right now, wanting to I not be.”
Emma snorted at the smug look on Sebastion’s face. Inwardly she was impressed since most of the ogre never bothered to learn more than a few words. He must have been practicing very hard since she last saw him.
She glanced first at Sebastion and then to the wolves while licking the crumbs from her fingers. “A simple plan is best, I think. The guards work in pairs, so when one pair comes to relieve the other, we will have four together in one spot. The wolves should be able to eliminate them quickly. At the same time, Sebastion, I want you to slip inside the tent of the last pair and put them to sleep permanently. Hopefully, the sorcerer will come out of his tent when he hears the commotion. When he does, I’ll enter the tent, free Navon, and make our escape.”
At midnight, everyone was in place. As with any plan, it was good until the first blow was struck. Four grey phantoms shot out of the night from different directions, the men on watch and their relief were dead before they hit the ground. Sebastion slipped inside the sleeping men’s tent and emerged a few seconds later, blood dripping from the tip of his blade. Unfortunately, not a sound was heard coming from the leader’s tent.
Afraid of what she might find, Emma rushed through the tent opening, and was confronted by a grey haired, wiry old man wearing a bright red robe. He stood against the back wall of the tent, holding Navon in front of him like a shield, with a knife pressed to the boy’s throat. A dark red stone sitting on a small table flared to life, bathing the inside of the tent in a ruddy glow.
“So, Light-Shifter, it is you. My Master was wise to give me a mage stone with the power to un-mask you. Now leave and don’t trouble me again, or the boy dies.”
“You and I both know your Master would be very displeased if the boy was to die, Sorcerer,” Emma sneered. “If you somehow managed to escape me, then surely your Master will succeed where I have failed.”
“It appears we are at an impasse. I…”
Whatever the sorcerer had been about to say came out in a gurgle of blood as the point of a sword appeared just below his chin. The knife at Navon’s throat dropped from lifeless fingers as the mage stone winked out.
“Impasse over be,” growled a voice outside of the tent. A moment later, Sebastion entered through the flaps. “Happier the boy be, I am thinking, if light be for seeing,” he observed.
She and Sebastion had developed their night vision to the point that they were comfortable in the dark. The boy however, was completely blind and probably very frightened. Lighting a candle with the tip of her finger, she turned to find Navon huddled in the corner with the fallen knife clutched in his bound hands.
“Emma,” he stammered. “Is that really you? Everything was quiet while Master Geron read at the table. Then there was a noise outside, he jumps up, pulls me to my feet with a knife at my throat, and tells me if I make a sound he will kill me. The candle goes out, then this red light appears, and there you are standing in the middle of the tent. Then I feel Master Geron fall and then …” Navon snapped his mouth shut to stem the flow of fear driven words. He shifted his focus to Sebastian instead and whispered, “Who is that, Emma?”
“I told you before, Navon, my friends call me Em and that big, hairy oaf is Sebastion. You are among friends now and safe for the moment.”
Navon stood and massaged his wrists after Emma cut him free, then heaved a great sigh of relief. “I sure am glad that’s over!”
“No young one,” Sebastion rumbled. “For you just beginning it be.”
***
Listening to Floanne’s excited commentary on the sights and sounds of the procession through Kiplar was just as entertaining as the actual event. Her maidservant’s wide-eyed, childlike innocence was enough to dampen the growing apprehension Sofia felt about what might befall them on the road to Seaside. The Queen had declared a day of celebration, so the Princess decided she might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
When they reached the outskirts of Kiplar, the drummers, trumpeters and the extra escort saluted the Princess, and then started their return to the Palace. Lieutenant Marton positioned five men to ride ahead of the coach while the other five rode rear guard as he rode alongside. He leaned forward in his saddle to speak to the Princess.
“We will stop tonight at the Vinebridge Inn, Your Highness. With an early start in the morning we should reach Whitecliff by tomorrow night, and then arrive in Seaside by the next afternoon.”
“Thank you for that information, Lieutenant. I’m sure I would have figured that out myself eventually. What I want to know is whether you and the escort will be joining us on the ship to Marlinor.”
Keeping his expression perfectly neutral, Marton answered. “The captain of the Silverfin has been ordered to take whatever steps are necessary to guarantee your safe arrival in New Bratan. The Queen charged me personally with your safety until the time you are presented to the King. The escort will board the ship to provide extra protection in case of a pirate attack.”
With a glance at Floanne, who was gazing out of the other side of the carriage, Sofia turned back and locked eyes with the Lieutenant. In a lowered voice she hoped her maidservant wouldn’t hear, “Never drop your guard, Ronald, even after we reach Marlinor. Things are not as they seem.”
That night at the inn, the peace and quiet did nothing to diminish the foreboding Sofia felt. Early the next morning as they crossed the bridge the inn was named after, even Floanne’s delight at seeing an artifact left over from the age of the Deluti had no effect on Sofia’s mood.
Around noon, Lieutenant Marton called a halt for lunch in a clearing alongside the road. He kept half of the escort in the saddle and positioned to watch both directions of the road. The sun was directly overhead in a cloudless blue sky with the temperature still rising. The tender shoots of the surrounding trees and bushes heralded the arrival of summer, and the color of the grass in the clearing was a shade of green that would only last for a short time. Fortunately, the road was still damp enough from the winter; dust was not the problem it would become in the following months.
The Lieutenant dismounted to assist the Princess and her maidservant from the coach. After he received a nod from Sofia and a blushing smile from Floanne, Ronald turned to re-mount his horse just as a bolt from a crossbow thudded into the side of the coach next to him. A moment later the driver of the coach fell from his seat with a bolt in his back. Riders, with weapons drawn, could be seen approaching from both directions.
“Lieutenant, you and the others ride out and engage those horsemen before they have a chance to use their horse-bows,” the Princess ordered. “I will stay here and take care of the men with crossbows.”
Ronald had heard the rumors about the Princess, and took a chance she knew what she was doing. Having made his decision, he jumped back onto his horse and drew his sword. “Sergeant, take two men and join the others to the west. The rest of you follow me.”
Before they could move, two more bolts whistled out of the forest on either side of the road. One of the men crashed to the ground, hit in the chest, while the other bolt glanced off of the sergeant’s helmet.
Sofia ordered Floanne to lie flat on the floor of the coach. She reached under the seat and pulled out a sack containing a small crossbow, and a bundle of bolts she had hidden there the night before leaving the Palace. The Princess ducked under the coach and spotted the archer hiding in the trees as a ray of sunshine reflected off of his helmet. A single shot in the throat dropped him. The other archer was smarter and farther away acro
ss the road. Only when she saw another bolt flash out from behind some brush did she fire, reload and fire again.
The young guardsman, who had been knocked out of his saddle, still lived and tried to crawl towards the coach. Sofia hoped she had eliminated the threat from across the road. She sprinted over with crossbow at the ready to help the young man to his feet, and turned back toward the coach. Before they could return, a rider appeared out of the woods, jumped up to the driver’s seat of the coach, snapped the reins and sped off down the road towards Whitecliff, with Floanne trapped inside.
As the team of horses galloped past Lieutenant Marton, the last two attackers broke off and followed the coach. Ronald appeared to be the last one alive from the escort except for the young man still being held up by the Princess. To the west all was quiet except for the thrashing of a wounded horse. Several others were standing where their reins had been dropped, the area littered with the bodies of dead men and animals.
The Lieutenant galloped back to the Princess and stumbled after climbing out of his saddle, blood running down his leg from a deep gash in his thigh.
“Your Highness. Are you injured?”
“I am unhurt, Lieutenant,” she answered as she helped the young guardsman to the ground. “Which is more than I can say for you. Quickly now, before you fall down, undo the buttons on the back of my gown so I am free to move.”
Ronald stared at the buttons for a moment before he reluctantly pulled off his gauntlets and began the task of un-doing them. He fumbled at first, trying to keep his eyes averted, uncomfortable, until he saw what was hidden underneath. Sofia shrugged her shoulders and let the gown slide down her body into a crumpled pile at her feet, revealing a full set of hardened leather armor.
“Now, Lieutenant, lie down right here so I can stop your bleeding,” she ordered, and began to rip strips of cloth from the gown. She hurried over to the guardsman’s horse and grabbed the med kit and the bladder of water that every man was required to carry.
The Pain of Compassion Page 4