by Bo Burnette
Since when had his counsel mattered so little to her? Only a few months before, she had hung onto each of his words as if they were gleaming gems. Now, she seemed to expect his opinions to align perfectly with hers at all times.
He consolidated his thoughts in the back of his mind for later contemplation as he reached her. Her hair dripped down her shoulders onto the wet, snug bodice of her dress, and she made no attempt to avoid the puddles which lay spattered across the street.
“Well,” she began cheerily, “it seems I’ve got us a ship.”
“Brilliant.” He brushed a few droplets of water out of his hair.
“You don’t sound like you think it’s brilliant.”
“That’s because I don’t, princess. Can’t help but speak my mind.”
“I always appreciate your honesty.” Her tone sounded too cordial and courtly. “And I’d appreciate it if you called me Arliss, not princess.”
“You think I’m being obsequious?” He licked his lips.
“That’s not quite the word I was thinking of.” She stepped towards him as if she wanted to say something else, then shook her head and trudged beyond him and down the muddy road. Where was she going?
He put his hand to his mouth. “Why are you leaving? The Games will start back once the rain stops.”
She was almost to the city stables. “Because I need to look at a very particular leaf of paper.”
“And where is that leaf?”
“Back at the castle.”
Moments later, he stood rooted in the exact same place, watching as she mounted her ginger mare and galloped past him through the city gates.
The moment she entered the open doorway, Arliss found her mother already in the library. Elowyn didn’t turn around, but Arliss knew her presence was not unnoticed. She paused, enjoying the rich smell of books mingled with whatever tea the queen had been drinking. The teapot, steam still drifting from its nose like a dragon’s breath, sat on a tray on the king’s desk.
Arliss kicked her muddy shoes off by the stone doorway, then she closed the carpeted distance between herself and her mother.
“The paper is sitting on the reading stand. You may have some tea if you like.”
Arliss opened her eyes wide. How did her mother always manage to be so perceptive? “I’d love some tea. My throat is dry.” She reached for the empty cup on the tray. “How did you know?”
“About the paper? Arliss, I’ve raised you for seventeen years. Surely you know that I must understand you by now.”
“I thought you said once you couldn’t even attempt to understand me.” She filled her cup with the reddish liquid.
“Comprehend, dear, that’s the difference. It is impossible to truly comprehend everything about another person, but it is always possible to show them understanding. After what your father told you, I knew it was only a matter of time before you came searching for your own answers.”
The steam floated up from the teacup and moistened Arliss’s nose. She sniffed. “So you are encouraging me to go ahead with my plan?”
Elowyn let her hands fall to her sides. “You have already proceeded with the plan. I am simply being your mother in whatever way I can.”
Arliss took a sip, letting the perfect warmth of the tea glide down her throat and rejuvenate her body.
Elowyn glanced her daughter over, her eyebrows undulating. “You look like quite the mess.”
“Well, it rained. Then I rode hard all the way here through mud.”
“So, when does your voyage depart?” Elowyn raised her own cup to her lips.
“Do you have eyes everywhere?” she asked, almost laughing. There was no way her mother had heard news of Brédan’s shipbuilding. It had not even yet begun!
Elowyn’s eyes grew serious. “Yes, in a way. But also, very much no. I simply suspect things.”
“And you are right, as usual. Lord Brédan is building a ship even as we speak.”
“What are you going to do while you wait? A ship is never built overnight, no matter how small it may be.”
“I need new clothes, for one thing. Something I can travel easily in. As I learned last night, a gown isn’t always the best thing in a tight spot.” She clinked her cup down on the tray and strode over to the reading stand. “But more than that, I am going to find out the truth. Everything’s become so real. First, Thane built his fortress and I discovered that Lasairbláth was not a myth. Then he told me that there were so many other places in this world that I would be stunned if I knew about them. Then father tells me about these treasures—treasures that the ancient book hints at. I have to know the truth.”
Elowyn looked as if she wanted to collapse into the chair beside her. “You should know the truth.” She nodded, her eyes searching the invisible. “But you cannot forget the truth of who you are—of who your people are. If the evil of the past has returned…”
“What?”
“This city could fall.” She met Arliss’s eyes. “Act wisely.”
Then she stepped towards the doorway as Arliss turned to focus on the sheet of paper before her. As Elowyn left the room, a stanza of a song rolled off her lips:
“A princess on a smooth-hewn throne
Clothed in linen raiment
A queenly look is in her eye
And grace is on her forehead.”
Chapter Ten: Opposition
PHILIP SQUINTED AT THE SHIMMERING COLLAGE OF SWORDS which glittered throughout the arena. The October sun—cool as it was—still tried to obstruct his view. The Games had continued without the princess (and without the queen, for that matter), and the swordplay had worn on during the second half of the morning.
A heavy presence beside him roused his attention—the king, his long coat belted about his waist, his expression twisted. Arliss’s absence clearly irked him more than it did Philip. Truth be told, Philip was savoring the peace and quiet and lack of conflict. How did she manage to bring a trail of dissension with her everywhere she went?
Kenton gripped the edge of the box. “She went back to the city?”
“Yes.” Philip turned back around, his red cape swishing. He didn’t look at the king.
“And does that trouble you?”
“Why should it?” he grunted, still avoiding Kenton’s gaze.
Kenton didn’t answer this question. Instead he asked his own. “Do you love her—truly, with all your heart?”
He leaned over the draped railing of the box, a thick sigh flowing from his chest. He did, didn’t he? “Yes. Truly.”
“And you will promise something about her?”
“She is your daughter. Anything you say, I will do.”
“Look after her. Care for her. If her quest puts her in any danger, you must ensure her safety.”
Now the king was asking—and presuming—quite a lot. They both knew that the burgundy-cloaked assassin might be waiting for them on the isle. Arliss was walking into potential danger. But Kenton seemed to have little qualms about that side of things—provided Philip was at her side.
He closed his eyes. “To be quite honest with you, my king, I’ve been considering not even going with Arliss to the Isle.” A sudden cheer erupted from the crowd as the clash of swords continued.
Kenton started, releasing the railing. “Not going?”
“Can’t you see she doesn’t want me with her? She didn’t even offer for me to ride back to the city with her.” Philip ran his hand through his hair. “I think it would be best if I didn’t accompany her.”
Kenton’s voice grew cold. “That is not an option. Either you go with her, or she does not go at all.”
Philip tensed, his arms flexing as he squeezed the railing. Did he have no choice in the matter? Kenton seemed to think that he would do anything, anything, if only…
If only he could have the princess as his own.
And that was what he wanted, really. To have Arliss, her whole heart and soul, and to have her forever. Kenton was testing his limits to see just how fa
r he would go to win the princess.
He huffed. “She will take a host of other Reinholdians with her.”
“I trust you more than any other, Philip. I can trust you with my daughter’s life.”
“I just wish she could.”
A curious flicker leapt into Kenton’s eyes. “Will you do something for me?”
“Of course.”
“Saddle your horse, ride to the city, and bring her back here right away.”
Arliss urged Kirras into a full gallop as she gripped the reins, squeezing her fists until they hurt.
The pressure in her head was mounting, bubbling up until she felt her skull would burst. It felt like everything in the whole world had been crammed into her head at once. And, in a way, it had. All the secrets she had never known were scrawled on the lone sheet of paper which now lay crammed between book pages in her satchel.
She huffed out into the dusty cloud of air. She should have known all this long ago. Even if the prophecy wasn’t true, even if she had never had a desire to go back to the isle, she deserved to know. This was about her family. This was about herself.
She didn’t know who to blame. Thane, for starting this whole mess in the first place? Her father, for never telling her about the treasures? Philip, for opposing her desire to preserve Reinhold’s history?
Or the man in the burgundy cloak, for…well, for everything. His muddy red silhouette seemed to snake through the past year of her life in so many unusual ways. Now, he could be anywhere—but the Isle of Light seemed like the most likely place. He could be even now looting through Reinhold’s history.
The thought frightened her, and she urged Kirras on. The wind cast her golden hair, and it streamed out behind her.
A speck suddenly appeared on the horizon—faraway, but moving quickly towards her.
She slowed Kirras’s pace, pulling back the reins as she glanced back in the direction of the city. The stone tower had now passed almost entirely out of view. Turning back to the speck, she saw it was almost certainly a horseman. But whom? Everyone in the city was occupied with the Games. Others, like Elowyn, would remain at the castle city until the feast that evening.
What if the burgundy assassin…
She jerked the reins to the right, leading Kirras to the north with a gentle canter. Her back ached as she bobbed up and down in the saddle.
The horseman materialized into full view, and she caught a flash of something reddish. Something burgundy?
She needed no further impetus. She dug her heels into Kirras’s sides and pressed on northwards. No matter what, she could not lead him back to either of Reinhold’s cities. The north, with its high, sloping mountains and unexplored seashores, seemed to be the best place to lead an assassin—and lose him. Unless, of course, the north was where Thane’s newest hideout was located.
It was likely enough. The northern lands were treacherous and unexplored, and would make a splendid refuge for Thane. But she had to risk it. Swallowing the uneasiness in her throat, she hastened onwards, hoping she wasn’t riding straight into a trap.
After a minute of galloping, she looked back again. Her heart slammed up into her throat. The horseman was gaining on her. Worse, his cloak was definitely a muddy red color.
Her head throbbed. What should she do? Could she handle him all on her own? Or should she turn back southwest and return to Cladach?
Then she recalled a discovery from the past year. Erik had discovered it, in fact: the single pass through the impenetrable mountains which walled the heart of Reinhold from the world. The pass cut straight through the mountains, over them, and into the cascading oasis. Perhaps she could lose him there?
Kirras would not last for that many hours of riding. Arliss knew that. But it might be her only chance.
The sheer faces of the mountains rose up before her and pricked her eyes with the sun’s dazzling reflection. She looked behind again. The horseman had come even closer. At this pace, he would reach her before she could get to the pass.
“Hurry, Kirras, hurry!” she whispered into the ear of the ginger mare. Kirras’s ear twitched, but she pounded onwards. Arliss clamped her knees about the horse, desperately trying to maintain her seat.
The rocky terrain to the right edged steadily closer. Irregular clumps of boulders clustered the ground which flitted by at a frightful pace. Arliss swerved left to get away from the rocks. She had never pushed Kirras this way before, and she wondered how long the mare could last.
A shout behind them caught her attention. Whinnying, Kirras fought on past the stony ground. Arliss looked back just as the shout was repeated—too indistinct to comprehend, yet well loud enough to hear.
She snapped the reins. “Faster, girl!”
The mountains now towered before them like gray sheets. What if her calculations were off? What if she had forgotten where the entrance lay? The speed of the wind streaking past could make her fall off at any moment.
She slowed Kirras’s pace as they reached the mountain wall, cantering back and forth alongside it. The pass was not in sight.
Their burgundy-cloaked pursuer still shouted from behind them. Arliss gulped down her mounting fears and urged Kirras along the mountainsides as she drew her bow and an arrow from the quiver at her side. Swallowing, she released the reins, her stomach clenching with the effort to maintain her balance.
The hooves pounded on beneath her. The wind swirled her hair. She managed to get an arrow nocked.
Twisting in the saddle, she aimed the bow at her pursuer. He had come within a hundred paces now…seventy paces…fifty… Then a powerful gust of wind roared across the plains, nearly wrenching her bow from her hands. The man’s cloak flew from his head and nearly tore off his body.
Thick, familiar eyebrows glared her down. He shouted again: “Arliss!”
“Philip.” She dropped her voice so low even Kirras could not hear.
Then she turned about and continued galloping north.
Philip wrapped the reins around his hand another time, urging his grey charger, Laoch, after Arliss’s fleeing form. Why was she running away? Who else could he be mistaken for? And just then—she had to have seen his face clearly. Yet she was running from him nonetheless.
Laoch could ride faster than Kirras, so Philip would be circling around her within minutes. Arliss knew that, though, and still she kept riding north. Irritation burned in his chest, and his eyes narrowed. He would catch up with her sooner rather than later.
“Yah, Laoch!” He pressed his heels into the charger’s sides, and they jolted forth even faster than before.
No sooner had he sped up than Arliss turned Kirras to the left. Without so much as a glance back at Philip, she set her course to the west—and the sea. He tugged Laoch in that direction.
He was gaining on her. He smirked, holding his reins with one hand as he came within earshot. He put his hand to his lips.
Before he could speak, she turned Kirras to the left again, turning out of Philip’s path. She still didn’t look at him, didn’t acknowledge him. Now her course was set straight for the Cladach. Precisely where he wanted her to be. The king’s orders. But something about the way she rode made him angrier than ever. Couldn’t she just stop riding and have out with it, once and for all?
Of course not. Just like with her stupid persistence about the Isle, she was running away.
Mud and grass flew around Laoch’s hooves as he hammered across the plains. Philip closed in on Arliss, coming right alongside her. Foam speckled Kirras’s mouth and sides, and Arliss’s face was flushed red as bloodleaf. Philip pulled so close that the two horses were almost touching as they raced.
“Can’t you stop a moment and talk like a sensible person?” he asked.
“Of course I can.” She stared ahead. “But you’re not a sensible person. I thought you were the man with the burgundy cloak.”
“I think you crossed off that guess a while back. You can stop running from me now.”
“Can I?”
He’d had enough. He reached out and grabbed Kirras’s reins, tugging the ginger mare to a halt. Arliss tottered forward onto his arm, trying to keep her balance. With a fiery sharpness in her eyes, she grabbed the reins and tore them from his hand.
“All right,” he prodded. “Let’s have out with it. No sense in bandying back and forth like this forever.”
Arliss licked her lips. A thousand things came into her mind at once—a thousand hateful words she could use to describe Philip. However, what escaped her lips was simply, “You first, then.”
“Very well.” He let Laoch’s reins dangle across the horse’s neck. “I think your voyage back to the Isle of Light is useless, but not wrong. I don’t think you should go, but I will be coming with you if you do.”
“Because my father wants you to,” she put in. She guessed all too well the conversations the two of them had when she wasn’t listening.
He squinted at her. “Perhaps, perhaps not. Anyway, I came to get you because your father wants you back at the Games, where you must fulfill your duties as princess.”
Duties? Arliss almost laughed. “Philip, I have no duties there. I attend all the feasts, and I did my bit with the archery. You can’t convince me of this one—after all, my mother stayed at the castle for the day and Father had no problem with it.”
“If the king had another reason, he didn’t tell me.” Philip shrugged. “All right, your turn.”
Tilting her head to release the tension from the ride, she looked into the mountainous distance. What did she really think of him, when it came right down to it? Furthermore, what did he actually think of her? She knew he wasn’t quite telling her his whole heart. And why? Did he not want her to hear it? Or did he not want to hear himself say it?
She exhaled. “You’re confusing me. I can’t fathom why you want to explore that unopenable waterfall vault when we now know that there are greater treasures on the Isle. Really, Philip. And just after the incident in Cladach, you come galloping after me dressed up like our most dangerous—and most mysterious—enemy.”