The Princess and Her Rogue

by Sheritta Bitikofer

  Deceiver kicked Nate away, giving him enough time to reach over and obtain his axe once more. The two stood before each other again, panting and glowering in rage, circling one another like warring lions.

  “And what became of the little princess? I assume you brought her home safely? Too bad she’ll never amount to anything either. She’s nothing but a little bastard whore, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Neither of you belong with Malcolm.”

  Nate lost himself in his fury and charged, slashing wildly. Hip, leg, shoulder, every target was guarded by the battle-axe pole. Nate couldn’t get a hit in. The blunted edge came up and nailed him in the shoulder, then stomach. Nate crumbled backwards, holding his stomach and wincing in pain.

  “Ah, ah, ah, watch your temper young man,” Deceiver teased slyly before bringing up his axe to end the fight.

  Nate stood up swiftly as the false king kept throwing the axe head and blunt end at him in quick succession as if to confuse and disorient Nate. With strained focus, Nate blocked each end.

  With a clever twist of his wrist, Nate found the opening to send the edge of his sword to the false king’s armored collarbone. Deceiver staggered back, holding his shoulder with a grave look of pain. It may not have sliced his skin, but the force of the blow was enough that Nate could see the flash of dented metal on his shoulder.

  Nate chuckled. “You’re getting slow, old man!”

  The Deceiver bellowed at the insult and came charging once more with his axe.

  Nate fell to his knees to dodge the attack and sliced through one of Deceiver’s gloved hands. The rogue then quickly rolled forward to lengthen the distance between himself and his opponent.

  The false king’s charge brought him a few feet beyond Nate and assessed the damage. Blood ran from his fingers, seeping through the cut leather of his glove. He hissed as he flexed his digits. He turned to Nate and waved a cautionary finger. “Naughty Nathan. You’re getting too close for comfort.”

  Nate rose to his feet and lunged forward, but Deceiver caught the sword and flung it from Nate’s hand, leaving him only his shield.

  Deceiver bashed at Nate’s resilient shield until the rogue swung his knee up to Deceiver’s belly. The tyrant fell over and took a moment to recover while Nate hurried to retrieve his sword.

  The sun and its rays were now vacant from the sky, being replaced with winking stars and fire smoke. The only light that aided the warriors in their battles was the remaining burning trebuchets that cast an eerie amber glow upon their faces. One of the soldiers of the red army shot a fire arrow right towards where Nate and the Deceiver were fighting. The arrow lodged itself into the grass and the flames spread through the grass formed a large circle around the two fighters, trapping them between walls of flickering inferno.

  Nate looked around and saw that it was just he and Deceiver within the circle, along with a few harmless corpses to witness their battle. “What’s this?”

  Deceiver stood up with a chuckle and walked towards Nate. The glow of the fire danced in his eyes, enhancing his evermore-menacing appearance. “Now, no one can save you.”

  The enemy came forward with his axe extended. Nate brought his shield up to block it, but the poor wood had been hammered to bits and shattered in Nate’s grasp, splinters falling to the ground around him. He took a firm hold on his sword and leapt out of the way. Deceiver wandered over to a corpse and picked up a small shield that was similar to Nate’s.

  “I’m going to kill you, you insolent child, if it’s the last thing I do!” Deceiver threatened.

  “Not if I kill you first!”

  Nate and Deceiver swung strike after strike against one another, sometimes hitting and sometimes missing. Steel clanged and sang like an erratic melody between them, intermittent with the dull thuds of sword against shield and shield against armor. Their melody was punctuated by taunts, curses and cries of anguish and rage.

  When Deceiver’s axe handle finally broke from the wear of his attacks and blocks, the false king quickly picked up an ownerless short sword and cradled it in his free hand. Neither opponent held a shield, only the chipped and glistening blades that reflected the quivering flames of their fiery prison.

  Both men were dripping with sweat from the fighting and the scorching flames that surrounded them. Neither, however, had lost their bitter hatred, nor the passion to see the other dead. Both of their faces wrinkled with rage as they panted, eyes narrowed and eyebrows pinched over the bridge of their noses. It was only now that Nate could finally see the resemblance between himself and the false king that was his grandfather.

  More assaults were exchanged. Deceiver and Nate locked blades and with one fowl kick, the false king knocked Nate to the ground and was upon him instantly.

  They locked blades once more and the old man pushed down with all his weight and might to break Nate’s defenses.

  “You know, I hate to say it, but I do think that despite your efforts, you will lose this fight,” Deceiver jeered.

  Nate gave a great yell and pushed Deceiver off to the side. Nate grabbed Deceiver’s messy lock of hair and slammed his face into his raised knee. With an even more busted nose, Deceiver stumbled backwards, holding his bloody face.

  “You wretched boy, you will pay for that!”

  The rogue lunged with his sword to stab Deceiver, but the old man grabbed Nate’s arm and twisted it until the weapon dropped from his hand. Deceiver swung his foot into Nate’s chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to the ground.

  Disoriented and growing weak, Nate pulled out his father’s dagger. Deceiver fiercely kicked it out of the boy’s hand and placed his own knife tip at Nate’s throat. Nate’s hands fled to Deceiver’s wrist to hold back the seemingly inevitable.

  “Can I tell you a secret before I kill you?” Deceiver asked, amusement laden in his voice as he placed a heavy foot onto Nate’s chest to pin him there. “You and your father were not banished without reason… I knew of your dream to be a knight. Azor told me of your potential. I could not have you joining Malcolm’s army and one day defeating me… I sent one of my men disguised as your father to molest that princess and your father got blamed for it… Isn’t it refreshing to find out the truth?… Any last words?”

  Nate’s fury was in full flame. “That’s no news to me. I already knew of your trick against my family. I longed to see the day you were humiliated just as my father was. And I’ll watch from heaven while you are. You will never win.”

  Just then, Nate heard a shout in the distance over the murmur of other battles beyond the flames. Both Deceiver and Nate looked up to see a brilliant white steed leap through the circle of fire. It’s rider: Prince Justin, wielding a long sword and a fire in his eyes that was even brighter than that which surrounded them.

  Deceiver, about to get trampled by the horse, stood up and took his focus off of Nate. As the rogue rolled away to retrieve his knife, Deceiver sent his own dagger into the heart of the horse, killing it and sending it and its rider tumbling over.

  Justin quickly recovered, tossed his shield away, pulled out his long dagger and began his own fight with Deceiver.

  “Where’s your daddy, boy? I want him, not you!”

  “You will face me, Deceiver, and you will not walk away victorious!”

  Deceiver charged forward with his sword, Justin blocked it and all the other swings that came along with grace and beautiful flowing techniques. Nate watched with keen fascination from the sidelines at Justin’s fluid maneuvers. It was as if the prince was dancing, not fighting a vicious battle against the most hated man in the kingdom.

  With each attack that Justin brought down upon him, the false king seemed to grow weaker and less resilient to the pounding against his impenetrable armor. The Deceiver was no match for Justin’s youth and vitality as he swung Deceiver’s blade around to make him stumble to the ground.

  “Getting tired yet?” Justin asked Deceiver.

  The tyrant was panting, struggling to stand up straight. As he
pulled back his sword for one more overhead strike, Nate jumped in and received it with his father’s dagger and managed to push back the Deceiver, sending him staggering backwards.

  Now, the enemy had to face two great warriors. The knight and squire stood side-by-side, armed and ready to defeat their foe.

  Deceiver glanced between the two and cackled maniacally.

  “What on earth could be so funny?” Justin asked as Deceiver wiped a bit of blood from his chin.

  “The thought that once this is all over, I’ll have your corpses fed to the dogs.”

  Deceiver picked up another blade and came at the two, shouting like a maniac. Justin and Nate battled each sword as Deceiver hammered them with blows that came at them like rapid fire.

  The flames flickered all around them and no one could interfere. Deceiver was outnumbered, and behind the circle they were trapped in, the blue army was already winning the battle.

  Nate and Justin both noticed that it didn’t take long for Deceiver to grow tired. His swords were dropping, his arms losing their strength. Nate and Justin chased him around the circle as they battled, pushing him towards the hot flames, but he never failed to maneuver out of the way before he had the chance to be singed.

  Justin made the first methodical cut at Deceiver’s armor, splitting the straps that held on his arm protection. Nate jumped forward and sliced at Deceiver’s flesh, drawing the first drops of blood with his father’s dagger. Justin attacked his other arm. The two blue soldiers sliced at Deceiver’s limbs until the man was almost crippled and bare of armor.

  Nate picked up his sword, and so did Justin. They both were now armed with two swords. Four blades versed against two. But, Deceiver wouldn’t relent. He kept up his brave, defiant stance. Azor predicted his victory and he doggedly held to it like a lifeline.

  Then, the two soldiers glanced to each other and within a few short seconds, they trapped Deceiver’s swords between their own and twisted them clean out of his hands, sending them flying out of the fiery circle.

  The false king stood there, defenseless, without sword, axe or shield. There was no way out. Nate sent a kick soaring to Deceiver’s temple, casting him to the ground. He grunted and wheezed, his arms and legs bleeding profusely into the grass, staining the ground forever with the tainted blood of a traitor.

  He turned over onto his back and was met by four blade tips, all pointed at his throat. There was nowhere to run. Just then, rain began to fall down on the field, slowly extinguishing the flames that surrounded them to reveal the rest of the battle grounds.

  “Can I kill him, please?” Nate growled, breathing profusely through his nose, glaring down at the cause of all his misfortunes.

  “No, he must stand trial before Malcolm,” Justin replied, planting his boot on Deceiver’s blood drenched torso, “You are under arrest for high treason against King Malcolm.”

  Deceiver looked around him to his fallen soldiers, seeing that they were all either dead or being held as prisoners of war by the blue soldiers of Malcolm’s army. At the wall of the city, Kiara’s army of archers stood with bows drawn back, ready to fire their remaining arrows at whoever resisted.

  “And just so you know,” Justin continued, “we took the liberty of sending a portion of our army into your territory. Tau has fallen. You have no more loyal subjects, Deceiver. Give up quietly or we will be forced to make you quiet.”

  Deceiver, with frightened eyes looked up to Justin, Nate and the blue army that surrounded him as he cowardly raised his trembling hands in surrender.

  Chapter 27

  So, Deceiver’s war was brought to a swift and decisive end. Deceiver was put on trial before Malcolm the next day in Aleph and immediately sentenced to death for his crimes against the royal family and his kingdom.

  Deceiver and all of his council, including Azor, were trapped in a deep pit and burned alive, while his army and loyal subjects were executed by the sword. Their fearful reign over the hearts and minds of Malcolm’s people was finally over. Every village in the kingdom celebrated their freedom with festivals that lasted for weeks.

  The forbidden territory beyond the mountains was conquered and claimed in the name of King Malcolm. Anyone who refused to give their allegiance were killed or imprisoned. Luckily, most of everyone in Deceiver’s old territory were still loyal to Malcolm, but afraid to show it for fear of the false king’s wrath. The territory was split up among the bravest, most loyal and highly honorable knights in Malcolm’s inner circle, including Sir Claude and Sir Ethan, who were given large portions of the territory. Tau would be torn down and rebuilt as Malcolm’s winter castle.

  The remainder of Malcolm’s army was each given fifty gold pieces for their admirable service during the battle. Some squires were knighted and those who were already knights were given higher honors for their masterful leadership. The brave citizens of Aleph who fortified the city while the king was absent were all given two new sets of clothes, twenty gold pieces each, free meals for a week and were granted special visits to the castle whenever they pleased. Now that Deceiver was gone, Malcolm felt more than generous with his subjects.

  Everyone was happy and joyful. But, there is still one issue that remained to be solved.

  Nate, who had been doing a lot of thinking since he first left Kiara, had been avoiding her at all costs. It wasn’t because he had fallen out of love with her, but because he had thought the situation from an unbiased position and realized that what they shared was wrong and couldn’t continue.

  He never set out to win the heart of the princess, and yet he had, stealing her away from Sir Claude, who had the full right and privilege to marry her. He may not have been a good man, but the knight did have first call upon Kiara. Malcolm approved of the marriage and Nate highly doubted that Kiara would be able to say anything to her father to change his mind. Kiara and Sir Claude would marry, and to Nate’s misery, he decided to stay out of that.

  His dreams of serving Malcolm were fulfilled and even though becoming a knight could have been within reach, there seemed to be no point now. Even if he could become a knight, he would have to endure being close to Kiara and Sir Claude. Such excruciating pain would wear Nate down and drive him to insanity. The hollow ache in his chest reminded him of his feelings for her and the love that still burned like a raging fire within him, but he knew it would never work. He wanted to be the kind of man that Kiara would grow to admire and this was no way to act. He knew he had to do the right thing for both of them.

  Nate had nothing left but what he had known all his life: the wilderness and loneliness that it provided. As he sat on his bed in the soldier’s wing of the castle, Nate was silent and contemplative. All the other fighters, squires and mercenaries had gone home, leaving only him in the emptiness that remained.

  He looked to the stack of armor next to his cot, still stained in some areas with blood and dirt. Leaning against the suit was his sword and shield, which had been cleaned and polished already.

  Nate’s frown deepened as he pulled up his sack and began to pack what little possessions he had left. He would leave behind everything that Malcolm or Justin had given him, including weapons and clothing. What he was left with, was his one change of clothes, his first aid supplies, blanket, knife and his father’s homemade dagger that he kept strapped to his belt at all times.

  His heart was shattered into pieces, untraceable and innumerable. He couldn’t bear to face Kiara and tell her he had to leave. Nate resolved that he would just sneak out before anyone would notice. He had no money, no food and nothing to sustain himself with, but all he knew was that he wanted to get as far away from this nightmare as possible.

  Just as he turned to walk towards the door, it opened to let in the crown prince, Justin, clothed in very formal royal attire. Nate looked up with glazed eyes, but turned his face cold and stony, looked away and tried to walk past him without a word.

  “Hey, where are you going?” the prince asked with confusion, purposely stepping in the
rogue’s way.

  “Away. Don’t tell Kiara,” he grumbled, pushing his way past Justin to get to the door. But, the prince grabbed Nate’s arm and pulled him back to face him.

  “What? No! You are not going to ditch us like this. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I can’t stay here any longer,” Nate replied, refusing to look Justin in the eye. “The more time goes by, the more it makes me know that I don’t belong here.”

  “You do belong here, Nathan. Don’t you even care about Kiara?” Justin questioned, peering confoundedly at Nate, still holding tightly onto his arm to keep him from running away.

  “Of course I do! I love her more than life itself, but I can’t bear to see her given away to another man. I’d rather die than stay here and have to see her, you and Malcolm all the time. It’d just be too painful… Let go of me!” Nate demanded, tugging on his arm to set it free.

  “No, I won’t. Malcolm demands your presence in the throne room immediately. Put on your best tunic and I’m going to escort you down there… If you still want to leave after that, then fine, you can go,” Justin said with an air of hostility against Nate’s foolishness.

  Nate looked up to Justin and sighed drearily. “This is the best I have. The king will have to tolerate it,” he said, looking down to his ratty apparel. Justin nodded, slowly let go of Nate’s arm, just in case he would try to run again, and then walked out of the soldier wing first to lead him to the throne room.

  The castle was quiet on this morning. The sky was clear, the birds were singing and the smell of spring was thick in the air. It was a lovely morning and turning into a lovely day. Nate thought it bittersweet that he would have to leave on such a beautiful morning. As far as activity goes, the castle was dull and lifeless, with only their two pairs of boots tapping against the stone walkways. Nate thought it odd that not even servants were out at this hour.