by Lana Axe
“As a last resort, that isn’t a bad idea,” Efren commented. “That’s assuming when the walls are breached the trebuchet is still functioning.”
Arden put a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun and looked into the distance. “I see the white lines your assistant placed to mark the range on this contraption,” he said. “You will be erasing that before Na’zora arrives, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Groot replied, his eyes twinkling. “Don’t you worry. I’ll have it gone by the end of the day. I just need the men who will be operating it to memorize the spot first. I don’t want any shots being wasted.”
“Who will be manning the machine?” Arden asked.
“I had a few of your citizens volunteer,” Groot said. “One was a little girl. You’ve got some brave lasses around here, to be sure.”
“Indeed we do,” Efren agreed.
Groot pointed across the wall, where several female archers stood ready. “Those ladies there are young. I hope they can hit their targets.”
“They have been well trained,” Arden said. “You’d be surprised.” He had overseen their training personally and was quite pleased with what he had seen from them.
Groot offered no argument about their abilities. “They’re certainly a brave lot to stand where they are. They’re going to be prime targets.”
“Do you have any ideas about protecting them?” Arden asked.
“Well, they’re behind those walls, so at least they aren’t exposed. I’m just afraid that Na’zora will aim hard for that section of the castle once they realize we have archers there.”
“Could you reinforce the wall?” Efren asked.
“I’ll do my best,” Groot replied. “In the meantime, I’ll have my men working on special armor for them. It won’t stop them from being crushed, but it might help if they’re hit by smaller debris.”
Efren sighed. “The concept of my castle flying apart disturbs me,” he said. “Why is it everyone expects it to fall? Is protection not what a castle is designed for?”
“That’s not what I meant, sir,” Groot said apologetically. “I’ve seen battle before, and I know what can happen. I suppose I’m planning for the worst.”
“I suppose I’m lucky,” the king said.
“In what way, Majesty?” Arden asked.
“I won’t have to look upon the faces of the dead when this is over. Whether it is because of my lack of vision or because I am dead myself, I will be spared that horror.” His words hung heavily in the air, with Groot and Arden exchanging glances. Neither of them spoke.
Turning to face the archers, Efren said, “These are the bravest among my soldiers. They are average citizens with barely enough training, yet they have volunteered their lives to protect the people of this land. I will not forget what they have done.” Efren admired these men and women deeply. If only he could stand next to them in battle, he would feel as if he’d done what he could. Instead, he was expected to sit upon his throne and command what remained of his army. Gannon would not have stood back and waited, but what could Efren do? He had no training in any form of combat.
“Groot, would you teach me how to operate this trebuchet?” Efren asked, to the surprise of both Arden and Groot.
Groot sputtered a moment and said, “Of course I will.”
“My manservant will need to know as well in case I am hit. Have armor ready for us both. Nothing fancy. Whatever the other soldiers are wearing will do nicely.”
“Majesty, I’d be happy to operate this machine on your behalf,” Groot offered. “You’re an important man, and you shouldn’t put yourself in danger.”
Efren shook his head. “This is something I must do.”
“Your Majesty, you will be needed elsewhere,” Arden protested. “You can’t risk your life up here.”
“I can and I will,” he replied. “Even now, Ryshel is risking her life to save a child. Should I not do the same to save my kingdom and all the souls living within it?”
Arden didn’t know what to say. He admired the king’s bravery, but he did not agree with his decision.
“You are my First Advisor, and you shall take my place coordinating the army once Na’zora has arrived. The responsibility of distributing goods throughout the siege can fall to whomever you choose.”
“As you command, Your Majesty,” he replied. There was no point in further argument. The king had spoken, and the duke would obey.
“How soon can you have a second trebuchet built?” Efren asked.
“I can have it in about three days if I focus only on that,” the dwarf replied. “I will make it my top priority.”
“Who, may I ask, will be manning the second one?” Arden asked.
“Groot may have the honor, if he so chooses,” Efren replied.
A broad smile spread across Groot’s face. “I’d be delighted.”
Chapter 34
With help from Lady Bartin, Ryshel was placed as governess to Prince Rayne. The pair were introduced on her first day in residence, but the boy had not been told her true identity. It would be far too difficult for such a young child to keep a secret.
Ryshel was pleased to see he had been treated well. Except for missing his mother, he was generally happy. His life consisted mostly of play and only a few hours of study each week. Ryshel enjoyed helping him to learn his letters and reading to him at night. He had a bright imagination and a good heart. She longed to tell him the truth about herself, but it was too risky. The sweet young boy probably wouldn’t be able to contain his excitement if he knew he might be reunited with his mother.
Though Ryshel wished to leave immediately, there were a few things that she needed to accomplish in order to avoid suspicion. First, she would need to earn the trust of those around her and be seen in the boy’s presence by many members of the palace staff. Then, there would be less suspicion if she were seen departing with him. That would take time, but hopefully not too long. Her own children’s welfare sat firmly at the back of her mind, and she wondered if she had made the right decision in leaving them behind. She forced herself to believe that they were safe, as long as the castle stood. Efren would do everything in his power to protect them. Ryshel hoped it would be enough.
After a week had passed, Lady Bartin stopped by for a visit. Taking Ryshel aside, she said, “I have arranged for a carriage to meet you this night. It is time for you to go.”
Ryshel’s heart raced as she nodded her understanding. “I am ready,” she said.
That evening, Ryshel dressed herself in a plain dress and concealed herself in a gray hooded cloak. Dismissing all of Rayne’s servants, she made sure no one was around to hear the words she was about to say to him.
“Rayne, there is something I need to tell you,” she said softly.
Rayne looked up at her, his blue eyes full of cheer as usual.
“My true name is Ryshel. I am your aunt.”
Rayne jumped to his feet and bounced up and down. “Auntie Rysh!” he shouted. “Mommy talked about you before she went away.”
Ryshel smiled and hugged the boy. “Your mother misses you dearly and has sent me to collect you.”
The boy’s eyes shone with hope. “I want to be with her more than anything,” he said.
“And I shall take you to her,” Ryshel promised.
As night fell, she dressed the boy in commoner’s clothing and covered him with a large black cloak. She intended to say he was her own son should anyone stop them along the road. With any luck, they would go unnoticed. The carriage was awaiting them only a few yards outside the palace grounds.
The moonless night gave them the best chance they had of not being seen. Quietly, the two left the palace and approached the gates. A single guard stood watch, leaning lazily against the metal bars.
“Who goes there?” he asked as they appeared from the darkness.
“It’s only me, the nursemaid Rya,” Ryshel replied.
“Who’s with you?” the guard asked, looking at the boy.
In his commoner clothing, the guard did not suspect his true identity.
“He is my son,” she stated.
The guard stared at them a moment longer, but finally he opened the gate. “Go on,” he said.
Ryshel’s heart skipped a beat as she grabbed Rayne’s hand and walked through the gate to freedom. Finally, she could let out the breath she had been holding. They were on their way home at last.
Not a minute after they stepped through the gate, an alarm bell rang out. Someone was aware the prince was missing. Ryshel and Rayne broke into a run as the guard behind them shouted, “Halt!”
Paying the man no heed, they continued to run. Dozens of footsteps sounded behind them on the hard stone path. Ryshel knew she had failed. The guards would overtake her, and she would be separated from the boy as Aubriana had been.
The carriage came into view as the guards closed in on the pair. Her heart fell as the horses sprang into motion. The driver must have heard the alarm and seen the guards. No doubt he wished to avoid putting himself in danger. Ryshel could only stare as her hope rolled away with the carriage.
A strong hand gripped Ryshel’s arm and pulled her back. “Where are you going?” he demanded, his breath hot on her face.
Rayne squealed as he was lifted into the air, his hood pushed back from his face. “This is the prince,” one of the guards said. “She’s tried to kidnap the prince!”
The guard carried the boy back to the castle as Ryshel was dragged along behind. With a firm grip on her arms, they led her down a dark passage to the palace dungeons. The guard flung her into a cell and slammed the door.
“You’ll hang for this,” he said, spitting on her.
“I am Ryshel, Queen of Ra’jhou, and I demand to be treated with respect!” she declared.
The guard laughed. “Well I’m the King of Whiskey Village, and I demand you buy me a drink.” He performed a silly dance to the amusement of the other guards.
“What I have said is true,” she replied, crossing her arms. “Take me to your king at once.”
The guard laughed again. “My king is away at war. I’ll fetch you some paper and you can write him a letter.” He grinned at her, revealing blackened teeth.
“Then I demand you take me to whoever is ruling in his stead. I am a queen!”
The guard looked her up and down, wondering if she might be telling the truth. She did not appear intoxicated, and her voice and mannerisms revealed her identity as a noblewoman. “For a price,” he said, holding a hand through the bars.
Ryshel stared at the man with hate in her eyes. Reaching into her pocket, she found two small pieces of gold. Placing them in the guard’s hand, she said, “Take these. I can give you more once I’m released.”
The guard’s eyes lit up with delight when he saw the gold. “I’ll be back for you in the morning,” he said with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to wake anyone just yet.” With a mock kiss, he added, “Sweet dreams.”
The blood rose in Ryshel’s face, but she said nothing. Taking a seat on the straw that was strewn on the cold, wet floor, she settled in for the night.
Chapter 35
Aubriana reclined on her bed, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. She paid no heed to the knock at her door. A young girl had arrived with a message which contained urgent news from Na’zora.
Ignoring the conversation between her maid and the girl, Aubriana turned to face the balcony. Outside, the Wrathful Mountains stood as proud as ever. Would that I were absorbed in that stone, she thought. Surely a mountain feels no pain.
Clouds had descended, hiding the tips of the mountains from view. The wind rustled the princess’s bed curtains and dried the tears on her face. More tears fell to replace them.
Shala’s eyes moved quickly as she read the letter. The information it contained was far too important to keep from the princess. She must be informed. Moving to the bed, Shala stood over her, holding the parchment in her hand. “It’s about Queen Ryshel,” she said.
Aubriana did not respond. Her eyes remained fixed on the landscape, her ears unhearing.
“My lady,” Shala spoke louder. “There is urgent news of Queen Ryshel. She has been taken prisoner.”
Those words roused Aubriana, who reached out her hand for the letter. Looking over the words on the page, she began to weep. “Help me dress,” she said, her voice raspy. “I must speak to my brother.” She crumpled the letter in her hand and pressed it to her chest.
“I could bring the news to the king for you,” Shala offered. “You aren’t well enough to be out of bed.”
Aubriana patted her maid’s hand. “This is my duty,” she said.
Shala helped the princess to the cushioned bench of her dressing table and went to retrieve an appropriate dress. Returning with a dark green gown, she slipped it over the princess’s head. Aubriana stood, allowing the skirt to fall in place. Brushing her hand lightly over the satin, she realized how long it had been since she had dressed. Her days were spent in bed, wearing only a plain cotton chemise.
“This color suits you,” Shala said, attempting to make conversation. Too many days had passed in silence. She was happy to see her mistress out of bed for a change. “Have a seat and I’ll fix your hair.”
Aubriana sat in silence while Shala combed through her messy hair. Though the maid was gentle, there were too many tangles to avoid any pain. Aubriana did not mind. The physical pain took away her numbness and reminded her that she was still alive. Observing herself in the mirror, she realized how pale her face had become. Her eyes seemed distant, lost in the gray that surrounded them. She touched her fingers to the fine lines that had appeared on her forehead. I was beautiful once, she thought. How life has changed me.
Once Shala had finished with her, she said, “You look like a princess again.”
Aubriana managed a weak smile, though she no longer felt like a princess. Someone else, it seemed, now inhabited the shell the princess had left behind.
“Let me come with you,” Shala requested. The princess was not strong enough to walk so far on her own. Her legs were wobbly, her steps uncertain.
With a nod, Aubriana took her maid’s arm. Together they began the slow march to the throne room, where Efren was holding court. Aubriana clutched the letter tightly in her hand and tried to steady her breathing. There was no choice—she must face the king. This news was too important to keep from him, no matter how he might react.
Two guards stood at attention outside the door. Their faces displayed surprise at seeing the princess. To their knowledge, she had not left her bedchamber for weeks.
“I need to see the king,” she said in a low voice. “It is a matter of urgency.”
The guards looked at each other before opening the door. The king’s page stood on the other side.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Princess Aubriana requests an audience with His Majesty,” the guard said. “She says it is urgent.”
The page nodded and motioned for Aubriana to enter. In a loud voice, he announced her presence.
Aubriana approached the king, still supported by her maid. With the best curtsy her weakened legs could manage, she said, “My Brother King, I come bearing news. A dear friend of mine in Na’zora has sent word of Ryshel.”
Efren sat forward in his seat. “Tell me,” he said. “Did she arrive safely? Is she on her way home?”
Aubriana swallowed hard and closed her eyes. “She did arrive safely and was given a position as governess to Rayne.” Her voice shook as she added, “A few days ago, she was taken prisoner while trying to escape with him.”
Efren was stunned by the news. He sat motionless, absorbing the words his sister had spoken. Closing his eyes, he asked, “What will they do with her? Will she be executed?”
“Her insistence that she is a queen has fallen on deaf ears. She is currently housed in the dungeons.” Aubriana looked down at her feet, her head feeling too heavy to lift. This was her own fault. Ryshel should never have gone. If Au
briana had not been so distraught, Ryshel would never have felt compelled to attempt something so dangerous. It was Aubriana’s own betrayal that had led to this. She had cost Efren everything—his kingdom and the woman he loved. “Forgive me,” she whispered.
Laying his head in his hands, Efren wept. This news was more difficult to bear than the impending loss of his kingdom. Even in his worst imaginings, he had always been killed before his wife and children. Now he might have to live with the reality that she was never coming home. His beloved was suffering and would surely be killed. There was nothing he could do to save her.
Aubriana gathered herself and approached the throne. Taking her brother’s hands in hers, she said, “Have hope, my king. My friends will do everything they can to free her. They believe it’s only a matter of gold.”
Efren paid no heed to her words.
Chapter 36
Ryshel sat wedged in the corner of her prison cell, nibbling on a small crust of bread. At first she had refused the food brought to her, insisting she should be given a proper meal. The guard would only shrug and stuff the food into his own mouth while she watched. After two days without eating, she decided it was better to take what she was given. If there were any chance she would be brought before the king to plead her case, she did not plan to do so weary from hunger. She took each meal, no matter how meager, without a word.
There were no visible windows, so she relied on the guards to give her an accurate account of the passage of time. With only pale torchlight available to her eyes, she could not tell the difference between night and day. Still, the darkness shielded her from some of the horrors of her prison. Screams echoed off the walls, but she could not see the face of the sufferer, nor could she see his blood pooling red on the stone floor. The squeaking of rodents also filled her ears, but she could not see their tiny eyes shining in the darkness.
Despite her pitiful conditions, the guards had not treated her too badly. For the most part, she held her tongue, not wanting to antagonize them and worsen the situation. They left her alone, forgetting about her claims of royalty. She could only hope that Lady Bartin was working to find a solution to her imprisonment. There was nothing to do but wait.