“How do you know she is the princess?” Eyebrows said instead. “Latule follows her, or do you not see?”
“They pursue!” Faxon yelled.
And pursue they did. As we wasted precious seconds on this argument, the enemy rounded the corner of the wall, their faces grim.
“Get ready to fight,” Reldion warned. He reached into his coat and let something fall to the ground. Blue light sparked from it, a pillar almost knee-high. Our shadows, distorted to enormous size, stretched across the wall. Daggers flipped into Reldion’s hands.
“Please open the door,” I pleaded with Eyebrows.
“I can’t let you do this,” Eyebrows said, shutting the giant peephole. “Latule is very clever; this could be another of their ruses.”
“You’re going to get the princess killed!” the other guard shouted. I heard the scuff of boots on a hard floor, then the crash of furniture.
Faxon, meanwhile, had freed his sword. “Stay back,” he warned me. “Do not get involved in the battle unless we fall.”
“But Faxon!” I protested. “I can’t let you get hurt!”
Light exploded around us. I shrieked and covered my eyes.
Reldion had used some kind of firework to blind the enemy and throw them off guard. Five lay dead on the ground, Reldion’s daggers buried in their throats.
“Your intentions are noble,” Faxon said, “but I have a promise to keep.”
“Promise?” I echoed.
“To Tolliver. I told him I’d protect you!”
With that, Faxon hurried to Reldion’s side.
Together or apart, Faxon and Reldion were a force to be reckoned with. Between the two of them, they cut down a good ten Latules before they were forced back. No matter how great their skill, however, Latule had the advantage in numbers. Inevitably, they backed us into the wall. There was no question of surrender on either side. With each moment that passed, each new blow that landed on my companions, I knew death alone would end this fight. It was ironic, I thought, that after all we’d been through, it would end here, with my back pressed against the door that led to safety.
Suddenly, inexplicably, said door gave way. Strong arms grabbed me, pressed me against something soft. Then in a dancing whirl, I was standing before a man dressed in the Autumnstead guards’ uniform: steel plate armor, a green tunic so dark it was nearly black, and a gray cloak. What must have been three days of or more scruff and his disheveled hair - white and wild, almost mad scientist-esque — somewhat ruined the military effect.
“You’re safe now, Princess.”
The wine on his breath brought tears to my eyes, which, under the circumstances might actually help me. “My friends! What of them?”
“They’ll not enter!” The man from the slat - I recognized him by his thicket of dark eyebrows - limped toward us, his hand on his sword. One eye had a dark bruise around it and had swelled shut. The other swept back and forth with a wild energy. “I will not abandon Autumnstead to the whim of a drunken geezer!”
“I will kill you if I have to!” the so-called drunkard roared. “We cannot leave these good people to die amongst the enemy!”
With a roar, Eyebrows flung himself at Drunken Geezer. Steel clashed on steel. I dodged behind a barrel. Maybe their skirmish would give me the chance to let Faxon and Reldion in. Other soldiers, hearing the fight, abandoned their posts and gathered to egg on the contenders. As I’d hoped, the fight gradually moved from the foyer to the gateway, and then to the village streets. I crept to the door, occasionally glancing behind when the crowd’s shouts or the clang of swords seemed too close.
Luckily no one had replaced the crossbeam on the door. That still left me with around twelve feet of phone-book thick wood to push open against the snow and wind.
Leaning forward, I pushed all my weight into the door. It didn’t budge. I took a deep, trembling breath and tried again, only for it to hold fast. Maybe I was supposed to pull the door instead? I tried this technique with what felt like the absolute last of my strength. The hinges gave the barest hint of a cranky creak.
Through the slight crack, I heard Reldion shouting in the Wagoner’s language, guttural and intimidating. I did not hear Faxon but hoped his voice had simply been drowned out in other noise. Then I remembered the slat. Feeling like a fool, I drew it back and scoped out the battle. In the undimmed blue light of Reldion’s fireworks, Faxon huddled behind the Wagoner, no longer fighting. He must have been wounded. Latule continued to press them. Hope fluttered its wings in my chest. It had seemed a hundred years since I’d been pulled through the door, but it hadn’t really been that long.
“Faxon!” I called through the slat. “Push the door!”
Our combined meager strength got the door open just enough for a person. Faxon grabbed Reldion by the coattails and dragged him in after him. Before anyone could follow them, the Wagoner was able to get the door shut. The Latules gave a shout of dismay I heard through the thick wood. Grinning, Reldion replaced the bolt. “Take that, you bastards,” he bellowed out the slat. He looked to Faxon for agreement. The slender man smiled weakly. The torchlight was too dim for me to see where he had been wounded and its severity. Before I could ask, a company of Autumnstead guards trooped in, led by Eyebrows. Two guards had the drunkard by the arms. “She is the princess!” he insisted. “Just look at her!” A murmur ran through the guards. Many turned to me, and several raised their torches.
“We still don’t know,” Eyebrows insisted. “See how she has let others from outside in? We should search the area to make sure she has not allowed Latules to enter as well!”
“You cannot think the princess would travel with no one to guard her!” Faxon said.
“Then you have no knowledge of our princess!” Eyebrows said. “She is a savage, as strong as a man, a stubborn mule who goes her own way, regardless of who it hurts.”
“As sure as my name is Reldion le Valen,” the Wagoner said, “I guarantee Princess Fiona stands among you.”
“The word of a Wagoner is slippery and sly!” Eyebrows retorted. Talk about the pot and the kettle, I thought. I was beginning to realize if I didn’t intervene, we’d be here until sunrise. My stomach flip-flopped as I considered what I had to do to end this.
“Enough!” I declared in a voice that surprised me with its steadiness. “I am Princess Fiona Arencaster. My companions and I have traveled far through many hardships. I demand the respect due to me and my protectors, this instant!”
“But the princess was enchanted, unable to speak!” Eyebrows sputtered, aghast.
“It was a simple matter for the mages at Valeriya to restore me,” I declared. “Since my homecoming a season ago, I have used my long silence to reflect on what I have done and how my selfishness has hurt others.” The guards nodded or murmured their agreement. Eyebrows gazed around in dismay, a man realizing his ship was sinking. “Release the soldier who was so kind to open the door for me. What is your name, good sir?”
“Balthas, Your Highness,” the drunk said.
“Your aid will not be forgotten, Balthas.”
“Your Majesty,” another guard piped up. He wore a breastplate with elaborate etchings of leaves and swirling designs, and a long plume trailed from his helmet. “As Captain Chisum, I apologize on behalf of the entire Wall Company. Shall I have Roderick arrested for his doubt and unseemly conduct?”
“Is that him?” I gestured toward Eyebrows without pointing. (My Portalis training hadn’t left me.)
“Yes, Princess.”
I waited a deliberately long time to answer. “No,” I said at last. Eyebrows all but collapsed into a heap of relieved jelly. “Autumnstead needs all her soldiers to fight. But as you see fit, assign him a week of menial duty, hard labor and cleaning perhaps.”
“Yes, Princess.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reldion grinning ear-to-ear. My own mouth twitched; I bit back a laugh. “We require a soldier to escort us to the palace to prevent similar misunderstandings. T
he rest of you may resume your duties.”
Although the captain assigned another soldier to take us where we needed, Balthas insisted he should come along instead. He chattered nonstop the whole time: how glad he was that he’d recognized me, how it was high time Eyebrows had gotten what was coming to him; this new building and that; the people of Ivenbury housed here; a brief touching on the fortunes of war before launching into his opinions on Latule (no good bastards!), their doings, and the fate he hoped they met.
It was a good thing I wasn’t an impostor sent by Latule, I thought with a wry glance at Faxon. Or Autumnstead would have been in grave trouble indeed, with this free flow of information. At first, I tried to listen. Balthas had saved us all; it was the least I could do. As the walk went on, my energy died out. I had to let his words rush past me, an endless flowing river of talk.
We brought Faxon to the new infirmary, a converted stable at the side of town closest to Castle Autumnstead. While I felt bad leaving Faxon alone, Reldion and I needed Balthas. For one, I didn't trust Reldion enough to travel alone with him. And two, if there were any zealously suspicious guards at the Castle Autumnstead doors, Balthas could lend us credibility…well, somewhat. Better than we'd do on our own, anyway.
It didn’t take long to traverse the cobblestone streets to the Castle Autumnstead grounds. Gaining entry proved a simple matter. Reldion refused my offer of a guestroom, stating, “I will seek an inn, Princess. T’will be a much better place for one like me. And, I hope to share drinks and company with soldiers, the better to tell the tale of this night.”
Balthas practically danced for joy at this statement. “I shall come, too, good Wagoner!” he announced. “Captain Chisum has made me your escort this entire watch. I shall gladly fulfill my duty to drink and share tales with you and all we may gather to us! Ah, how Fortune favors me this night!”
I rolled my eyes but supposed it was better this way. For all I knew, Ivenbury eminents occupied all the guestrooms. Personally, I wouldn’t want to be woken by Reldion’s fierce grin and burning blue fire eyes.
In addition to the escort, Captain Chisum had sent a page to inform the castle guards of my return. Those at the front gates let me in with hushed greetings and praise for my return.
As I made my way to Fiona’s room, I passed several additional pairs of guards positioned at strategic points in the castle, another reminder of the war and how such conditions affected everything.
In Fiona’s room, servants had lit a fire. I didn’t bother removing my clothes. I buried myself in blankets musty from unuse and lowered myself gratefully into the dark waters of sleep.
I dreamed myself into the sun-splashed foyer of my parents’ old townhouse in the hills. By the blue gingham sundress I wore and the stillness of the front porch wind chimes, I knew it must be a summer day. Gerry had a gallon of lemonade in one hand and a picnic basket slung over his shoulder. Excitement danced through me like sunlight reflecting off the water. We were finally going on the date I’d often longed for: an afternoon picnic at a beautiful green park nearby.
“We can’t go, Leah.”
“What do you mean? The picnic’s ready. I spent all morning packing it.” (Gathering food Gerry could eat meant trips to several grocery stores. I’d gone today so it’d all be fresh.)
“It’s too late.” Blood oozed down Gerry’s face in wide tear tracks. “You waited too long, Leah.” His body crumpled. The picnic basket and lemonade hit the floor, food and drink flying in all directions, like they’d all been made of glass. Though his body lay on the ground, Gerry’s bloody face floated above me, grimacing, accusing.
Chapter Fourteen
Reunions
I woke with a gasp. To my initial alarm, there was still a face hovering over me as I lay in Fiona’s bed. However, it wasn’t Gerry’s. Deep chestnut brown hair tumbled to his broad shoulders, shadowed eyes so dark you could get lost in them.
“Lady!” A voice I recognized as Tolliver’s parted the groggy fog of my brain with a blade of light.
He’s alive! I started to sit up to hug the dark-haired man, changed my mind midway through, and took his hand in both of mine instead. My body shook from the emotions clashing within me: a rush of profound relief; guilt mingled with my elation at seeing him; an inability to decide if I wanted to laugh or weep.
In the end, guilt won as usual. I suppose I deserved it. I mean, here I was, all but hugging another man who I’d fantasized about. (Yeah, Portalis was a huggy crowd to say the least, but things were different in the Other World.) It wasn’t like Tolliver had stopped me from finding Gerry, but… It seemed wrong to feel happy that Tolliver was alive and here with me. I still felt bad that my mind couldn’t be on Gerry every minute. I did want to spend my life with him, after all.
“You’re alive,” I whispered when I finally found my voice. “I’m so glad!”
“I am so grateful of your return! Not an hour has passed since the Latule forest that I have not thought about you.” Tolliver’s eyes shone.
“The queen ordered guards on the door,” I said. “I’m surprised you were able to enter.”
“I used the secret passage.” Tolliver nodded toward it.
“I forgot all about it,” I said, remembering my first night in Castle Autumnstead when Faxon and Tolliver had appeared in my/Fiona’s room. “Have you been here all night?”
“When Faxon gave me tidings of your arrival, it became unbearable to wait a moment longer to see you. I could have waited, I suppose, but…” Tolliver said, without ever really answering the question. “I am glad to see you are unhurt. Faxon and Reldion le Valen both received treatment in the infirmary today.”
“They fought well against many Latules,” I said. “Wait a minute, Reldion? He seemed okay last night.”
“He got into a fight at the bar this morning and had to be treated for several stab wounds,” Tolliver informed me.
I sighed, remembering Reldion’s parting words to me. A man like him, indeed.
“You were moaning in your sleep,” Tolliver said. “Did a dream trouble you?”
The room blurred. “I dreamed of Gerry.” Somehow I banished the tears. “He’s gone,” I said numbly.
“I know.” Tolliver sounded as though his heart were breaking too.
Surprised, I drew back to look at him. “Tell me what happened after the ambush,” I said, partly to redirect his attention.
“They say our position was betrayed in the woods,” Tolliver said in a hushed tone.
“Betrayed?” I echoed. I supposed it happened at times like these, especially against a powerful enemy like Latule. Still, the idea shocked me. “Our superiors are doing their best to investigate, but the war has stretched their numbers thin. Thus far, they have no real leads.”
“What of Queen Arencaster?” I finally remembered to ask. “Is she still alive?”
“Oh yes.” Tolliver smiled. “When the ambush was raging, she took up a sword and fought, too.”
It didn’t surprise me that Queen Arencaster had dived right into battle. Sometimes I thought the lady had ice water running through her veins.
“Currently she spends her days in meetings with her captains and the councilors that remain. In the evenings, she continues the investigation. Rumor has it, she hasn’t slept a full night since returning to Castle Autumnstead.”
That explained why she hadn’t come by. Based on what Tolliver had said, I could expect to see very little of her, which suited me.
“Did your family come to Autumnstead?” I asked. “Balthas — that’s the soldier who helped us last night — said many from Ivenbury are now here as refugees.”
“They did.” Tolliver looked solemn. “A long time ago, I said Gascon and Mother might never see Autumnstead in their lifetime. How differently the winds of fate blow from our predictions.”
“Do you think there’s any danger to my position?” I asked, disliking the sound of suspicion in my voice. If I wasn’t careful, I’d turn into Queen Arencaster.
“I am cautious to say,” Tolliver said, “but I expect they will remain in Autumnstead Village, and you, in the castle.”
“I hope they enjoy their time here,” I was about to say, but didn’t. There couldn’t be much enjoyable about fleeing your home. Tolliver’s family were hardy folks, however. If there were any good to be had in the situation, they’d find it.
“What of you?” I said in a suddenly choked voice. “Have you…fought?”
“Almost every day,” Tolliver said. “I was fortunate not to be wounded that time in the woods. Yestereve, I received a deep cut to my upper arm.” Involuntarily, my eyes were drawn to the area. Sure enough, his arm was bound with a strip of dingy cloth.
“I wish you didn’t have to,” I murmured.
“It is for Autumnstead and my family,” Tolliver said. “They are worth my life.”
If I lost Tolliver, I didn’t know how I’d go on. But I couldn’t think about it right now or I’d just languish in Fiona’s bed for who knew how long.
“Will it be over soon, at least?” I asked.
“I cannot say. The long-term strategy is not given to mere soldiers to understand. Our orders concern the day-to-day. Were you to attend the Council of War, you might learn for yourself what Queen Arencaster has planned and ease your mind.” Tolliver’s eyes met mine. Brief energy flickered between us. Tolliver quickly turned his gaze to the door. “My brothers in arms still don’t know I’m here. I should slip away… There is the honor of the princess to consider.”
I wasn’t sure how much honor Princess Fiona had left after all her running away, but that was a discussion for another time.
Maybe I would hazard a visit to the Council, after all.
When Tolliver had left, I dressed and brushed out my hair for the first time in almost a week. Keeping a serious expression on my face, I strolled down the halls, looking from room to room and groups of guards for a gathering that looked like a Council of War. I hoped to give the impression that I was doing an important inspection, perhaps for Queen Arencaster herself. It seemed like all day before I came upon a chamber on the ground floor that took up the entire east side. The ornate double doors were closed and flanked by guards. I deepened my pensive look, channeling as much Queen Arencaster as I could, and pointed to the closed room. The guards bowed in acknowledgment and drew back the heavy doors for me.
Rescuing the Prince Page 17