Sorrows of Adoration

by Kimberly Chapman

  Indeed, I did not have to wait long in the darkness near their fire to hear them say that the outpost where Prince Kurit and his small group were staying was only about two or three hours away by horse. I knew of the outpost, having heard it frequently mentioned as a landmark along the road. I had thought it unused, since our kingdom was at peace. But these men had reason to believe that Prince Kurit and company were staying at that outpost, and they intended to kill him as part of some sort of rebellion. There was little talk of the rebellion itself—no details I could hear given as to why these men sought to rebel, why the Prince was chosen as the target, nor why I had not heard of such unrest previously.

  I realized that it was my duty to inform someone of this fiendish plot against the only son of our King and Queen, but who was I to tell? The innkeeper would not have believed me, and even if he would have, there was no reason to believe he would have cared enough to risk himself. There were no noblemen nor guards nor anyone of authority anywhere nearby. I certainly couldn’t trust one of the other guests to be bold enough to risk his life to flee and warn the Prince. If I wished to warn him of the imminent danger, it seemed I would have to do so myself. The thought of leaving was unsettling, but I had at no time intended to make this employment a permanent way of life. Weighing my choices led me quickly to decide in favour of my duty as a Keshaerlan.

  I crept to the stables, intent on stealing a horse, but stopped short of the gate when I realized the men would undoubtedly check their horses before retiring and notice one missing. Also, the fact that I had never ridden one and really had no idea how to do so made me decide to flee on foot instead. I thought the outpost could not have been very far away, since travellers used it as the landmark before our inn. If horses could get there in two hours, then it seemed reasonable to me that it shouldn’t take me very long.

  The men inside were already being tended to by one of the other girls, since I was purportedly taking orders from those outside. The men outside, of course, had not seen me in the darkness. Furthermore, the group apparently planned to remain near the inn until late afternoon, that they might arrive at the outpost in darkness. It seemed that the conditions for fleeing were as good as I could have realistically hoped for.

  I said a quick prayer asking for speed, my need being noble, and crept away from the inn. As soon as I was out of direct sight, I ran as fast as I could, spurred on by fear for myself and for the Prince, who surely suspected nothing of this plot.

  I ran fast and hard, which soon made me quite warm in my cloak despite the frigid night air. The moon was out and, when not covered briefly by cloud or shaded by trees, provided enough light that I could follow the road. I heard noises from off the path, and my heart thumped in fear for what I had done—run off in the middle of the night with no weapon or means of defending myself against animals, thieves, or any of a multitude of horrors that no doubt waited a lone, defenceless girl. The more I tried not to think of how frightened I was of these unseen dangers, the more frightened I became, and the faster I ran.

  I continued that way until my lungs were raw from breath and the sweat from my brow dripped stinging into my eyes. I slowed to a walk, wheezing pitifully, and realized that horses must move awfully fast compared to people, because I had run for a good long time and didn’t seem to be very close to anything resembling an outpost. I walked until the fire in my chest subsided, and then jogged lightly thereafter, pushed on by fear for the Prince, fear for myself in the darkness, and a dread that the bandits may have noticed my disappearance and could be pursuing me at any moment.

  I continued on as dawn broke and still onward as the sun passed overhead. My feet and legs had become numbed with the effort, and my head pounded with exhaustion. I had been awake since the morning of the day before and had not yet eaten dinner when I left the inn. Hunger had long since subsided into a cramp, and I tried to stretch my aching torso as I ran. Determination to do my duty as a loyal citizen of Keshaerlan as well as mortal fear kept me pressing on as the hours passed.

  As the sun began its descent, I found myself desperate to rest but too frightened for even a short pause. I knew they must have left the inn by that time and would soon be on my heels. Just as I began to lose hope in my foolish quest, I crested a low hill and saw a squat stone tower joined to a cabin, with a small stable off to the side. I stopped in my tracks, stunned at the sudden realization that I had arrived. I looked behind me and saw no imminent sign of the would-be assassins, but I knew they must not be far off.

  Inspired anew by the sight of the outpost, I sprinted hard to the door and banged on it furiously. There was no immediate answer, and I panicked.

  What if the Prince knows of the plot and has left? I thought. What if there is no one here at all? No, there is smoke rising from the chimney—

  And then the door opened. A short, elderly lady stood in an apron at the door and asked politely what I wanted.

  I tried to answer, but found my parched and tired throat unable to make a sound. I forced a cough and hoarsely said, “The Prince. Is he here? It’s urgent, there are men on horses coming to kill him.”

  She opened the door further to admit me, and I stepped inside the little cottage. At a table near the hearth were seated two men, both very handsome, one considerably larger and more muscular than the other. Both had ink-black hair, which I had heard was a common trait amongst Kydrenians, unlike the mix of reds and browns of my own Aleshan people. The larger one’s hair was shoulder-length and parted in the middle. He had a moustache and beard around his mouth. The other was clean-shaven, with slightly shorter hair that was parted just off-centre on his right.

  They looked at me strangely, not with fear—for what would have been fearsome about a girl in rags at the door—but with an obvious concern as to why such a girl would be at the door of a remote outpost.

  I looked at them both, and realized I had no idea as to which man was the Prince, nor who the other might be. As I was exhausted, panicked, and starved, my mind dispensed with any thought of pleasantries or proper discourse, and I bluntly asked, “Which of you is Prince Kurit?”

  There was a moment’s pause during which I panicked anew, thinking perhaps neither was and in fact these men were part of the group of bandits. But then the larger of the two stood and said, “I am. Who might you be?”

  The sound of his voice, sure and strong, reminded me of my station and I fell to my knees before him and bowed my head for a moment. Then I looked back at him and tried not to sound as nervous as I truly felt. “I have overheard a plot to kill you, Your Highness,” I said. “I am a barmaid at an inn north of here, the Traveller’s Torch, and there last night were gathered no less than thirty, perhaps forty men, and I overheard them speaking of slitting throats tonight. They intended to leave this afternoon, and had horses. I’m sorry I took so long, but I came on foot—”

  “You travelled on foot by yourself?” asked the other man incredulously.

  I thought perhaps he was angry that I had not taken a horse and felt ashamed. “Yes. I’m sorry, I have no horse. I came as quickly as I could. I ran all night. There was no one there to trust to tell you. The inn is not in a town, so there are no King’s Guards stationed nearby.”

  “And what did these men say that makes you think they intend to kill me?” the Prince asked calmly.

  “First I heard them speak of cutting throats, and I was afraid that they meant to rob us, but I heard them later quietly drink a toast to Prince Kurit, on his last night amongst mortals. I went outside where the other men were camped and listened to their plans, and sure enough many times they spoke of coming to this very outpost to kill you, Your Highness, for some rebellion, though I swear I have never heard of such a rebellion before.”

  “Were you seen? Would your presence have been missed?” asked the second man.

  I didn’t know how to answer, and my mind was too panicked and fatigued to coherently consider the possibility at that point. I felt tremendous guilt at my lack of knowledge, and
bowed my head and said, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. It was foolish, I know, to just run off, but I didn’t know how else to warn you. I tried to come quickly, but it was so much further than I imagined, and after a while my legs, they just wouldn’t move as fast as I wanted them to.”

  “How far behind you do you imagine they would be?” asked the Prince.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered, feeling the urge to weep from exhaustion and shame. “I don’t know. They weren’t behind me when I knocked, and they seemed to plan to be here after dark, but I don’t know if they left early, or if my disappearance was notable to them.”

  “Are they well armed?”

  I tried desperately to think to what I had seen, but felt my mind slipping away as the floor began to feel unstable under my knees. I reached my arm out to the wall to steady myself, wanting very much to stay alert to answer their questions. I looked at the Prince again and said, “I saw a few swords, Your Highness, but most of them carried axes. Their horses didn’t have armour that I saw. The men, I don’t know if they had armour, but they weren’t wearing any in our pub.”

  The two men looked at each other, and I could not tell if they believed my tale or not. “Please,” I said, “You have to leave. I don’t know if they’re trained or well armed or even if their plan is sound, but there are two of you and so many of them. Your Highness, please, you have to flee this outpost, and they could arrive at any moment. I’m sorry, really I am, to have burst in here with an incredible tale but you must believe me—I did not imagine what I heard, and it was repeated enough to not have been misunderstood. I know it is terribly rude of me to come here unannounced and tell you to leave, but…” I could not think of what else to say, and stopped my own babbling before they thought me a complete fool.

  They started talking to each other in low tones, and I prayed that they would hurry up and leave. I realized I too had to flee, knowing full well those bandits would not suffer me to live for having warned the Prince. I tried to turn and reach for the door in hopes of running out to the now dark woods, perhaps to find a place to hide and rest overnight.

  The old woman saw me reaching for the door and said, “Where are you going, girl?”

  I tried to look at her, but my eyes would no longer focus. I closed them and said, “I must take my leave so the Prince can prepare to escape.” Closing my eyes turned out to be a poor idea, and I found myself unable to open them again. I heard the old lady say “ridiculous”, but I didn’t know whether she meant me or my story. I tried to reach for the door again and felt myself slumping against the cold stone floor. I fought against the fatigue, desperately afraid I would be left behind to die, but I could no longer tell what direction I was facing, let alone where the door might be.

  I felt myself being lifted from the floor and managed to open my eyes enough to see the Prince himself lifting me. My mind cried, No, there is no time, and I tried to tell him to hurry up and leave, to go to a safe town, that I was just a silly barmaid and not worth wasting the time over. I wasn’t sure if I spoke aloud or not and worried greatly that, because of my weakness, he might remain too long out of chivalry and be killed for it. But I could fight the fatigue no more, and a sea of greyness clouded over my eyes as he carried me.

  * * *

  When I awoke, I was cold despite being under two heavy blankets. I found myself on a thin pile of straw in a cart that was not moving. The other man who had been with the Prince was gently shaking my shoulder to rouse me. He softly said, “Wake, good lady. Please wake up.” When I looked at him, he said, “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Aenna,” I said hoarsely, my throat still dry from the run and now numbed from sleep.

  “Aenna, the men you saw have reached the outpost. We can see it burning from here.”

  I sat up and looked where he pointed. We had travelled downhill to the south, and indeed I could see the outpost at the top of the path, glowing brightly against the night sky.

  “We have only two horses, so we started off with you and Gilaela in the cart, but by now the assassins know we have fled and will surely follow the tracks of the cart. It is too slow to pull it behind us, so you, Gilaela, and the Prince must share the two horses between you and flee faster. I shall go on foot—I know the way, and I can go through the woods without a horse. They won’t think to do the same, so I shall be safe and you three can move faster,” he said.

  I saw that the Prince was seated on a horse already, wearing a great flowing cape embroidered with his crest. The old woman sat uneasily on the other horse.

  “I’ll slow them down,” I said. I didn’t know where I would go otherwise, but I was determined not to allow my weakness to cause the Prince’s death. “I can go off another direction on my own. You shouldn’t be pausing to worry about me.”

  “No, I won’t hear of it,” said the man who had woken me. “You saved our lives, and I don’t think any of us wish to see you crawl off alone to die in these woods. You’re in no condition to flee alone.”

  “Come, ride with Gilaela,” said the Prince. “The horse is used to carrying Jarik here, and can manage your weight with hers. We will be able to ride fast enough.”

  “No,” I said, shamed at my defiance but intent on allowing the Prince to escape without my encumbrance. “They are on our heels, and I won’t be responsible for slowing you down. You’ll barely make it as it is. I can go off another direction, and perhaps slowly enough to lure them away.” I realized what I was offering as the words came from my mouth, and my heart thumped in my chest. I was offering to be killed, and the idea was unsettling, to say the least.

  I was, I admit, relieved when the man the Prince called Jarik wouldn’t hear of it.

  “Certainly not! Men of honour do not use defenceless girls as decoys!” he said.

  “Indeed,” said the Prince. “But your bravery is appreciated.”

  “Go with Jarik, dear,” said the old woman. “You’ll be safer with him than on your own.”

  “Only if you’re sure you won’t come with us,” Prince Kurit said.

  “No, I’ll be fine. Forgive my boldness but go, Highness. They could come down the path any moment, and I could not bear to be the reason you slowed your flight.” I worked my way out of the cart and stood with the blankets clutched around me, watching my breath turn to fog in the cold night air.

  “Yes, go,” said Jarik. “We’ll find shelter for the night off in the woods and start a journey back to Endren in the morning. We’ll see you back there in a few days’ time.”

  The Prince nodded, and the two horses were made to hurry off down the path.

  I noticed Jarik had been laden with several packs, no doubt of supplies and gear for a trek by foot through the woods. I offered to carry something, since he was clearly being quite kind by allowing me to join him, but he refused, saying I must still be exhausted.

  “In the morning, perhaps if you’re up to it you can carry a portion of the gear. For now, we must hurry to get far off the path and find a safe place to camp for the night,” he said.

  The trees were thick on either side of this part of the path, but Jarik said the western side would be easier to follow eventually, since the road lay at the western foot of the mountains after this valley. We hurriedly entered the woods, Jarik in the lead.

  The darkness was thick and blinding in amongst the trees, and I felt very afraid. I was able to follow Jarik only by the sound of him walking in front of me, occasionally whispering to be careful of a low branch or warning me of a root I might have otherwise tripped over. Though I was still tired from my earlier journey, fear and adventure filled me with new energy, so I was able to keep up with his pace rather well.

  I lost track of how long we walked or what direction we travelled, but we eventually came across a rocky ledge with a hollow beneath it. Jarik suggested that we hide out in the hollow until the light of day, and I had no reason to argue. He apologized that he didn’t wish to make a fire, but I assured him that I understood it was only
logical to not attract such attention. He placed some rocks over the pack that held food, and we each took one of the blankets I had carried and wrapped ourselves in it. He bade me to crawl into the hollow first, so I nestled myself against the rock tightly to allow him as much room as possible. He positioned himself at the mouth of the hollow, sitting upright, drawn sword in hand.

  It may sound silly, but seeing a man like that, ready to defend both me and himself, gave me great peace. I no longer felt afraid. The bandits would no doubt chase the Prince, and for him I worried, but for us I no longer feared. I was able to fall asleep quickly and deeply, and my poor exhausted body was glad of it.

  Chapter 2

  THE CRY OF a bird in a tree overhead woke me, and I found myself stiff, sore, cold and completely disoriented. I sat up, thinking I was in my cot, and in doing so bumped my head soundly on the rock above me.

  Jarik was already awake, searching amongst the food pack for something edible for breakfast, and saw me bang my head. He leaned over to me and asked if I was hurt. I remembered where I was and all that had happened, blushed as I rubbed the small bump growing under my hair, and said, “I’m fine. I forgot where I was.”

  “I know the feeling. I almost rolled over onto my own sword last night. Wouldn’t that have been heroic, to escape a pack of bandits only to impale myself in my sleep?” he asked, chuckling. I smiled at his good humour and gladly accepted the food he handed me. It was preserved meat on slightly stale bread, but I had not eaten in so long that it was a feast to me.

  “Your name is Jarik?” I asked as we gathered the packs to head off.

  He looked at me strangely for a moment—I assumed because he had forgotten that both Gilaela and the Prince had spoken his name the night before—and then nodded. “I’m the Prince’s cousin,” he said as I emerged from the hollow.