The Princess Fugitive

by Melanie Cellier

  Running at nearly full pace, Ava twice tripped and would have fallen but for Hans’ steady grip. They were quickly through the wagons and into the surrounding forest. He didn’t pause but led her on until they were out of sight of the caravan. Only the faintest glow from the fires reached them.

  Finally he stopped and took up a position between her and the distant wagons, his hand on the sword hilt at his waist. Ava hadn’t previously noticed his sword but felt relieved that he had thought to include it in his dancing outfit.

  For a moment there was silence except for her gasping breaths and the distant sound of shouting from the caravan.

  “How, how did you find me?” she finally managed to get out.

  Hans swung his head around to look at her. Her eyes had adjusted sufficiently to the low light for her to make out his expression. He looked confused.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “It was chaos at the dance,” she said, “even before the guards arrived. I couldn’t have found you if my life depended on it.”

  His face tightened in a wince and Ava wondered if it was possible her life had depended on it.

  “I never lost track of you,” said Hans simply.

  Ava shook her head in wonder. The man had an uncanny sense where his job was concerned. She could only be grateful for it.

  The more time that passed without any sign of pursuit, the more Ava felt herself relax. It was unlikely anyone had seen them flee and they had no way of knowing what the guard was even doing at Caravan Hargrove. There was every likelihood it had nothing to do with her.

  Hans, however, remained tensed. His eyes stared back through the trees and his hand clenched and unclenched on his sword hilt.

  Eventually the sound of conflict quieted. Ava began to stir restlessly, anxious to know what was going on, and Hans glanced back at her. She could see from his gaze that he was torn.

  “Not this again,” she said. “Go, find out what’s happening. I’ll be fine.” When he didn’t move, she bent down and flipped back the hem of her skirts. The tip of her dagger could be seen above her boot.

  “I never go anywhere without it.”

  “Stay here,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

  He moved so quietly through the trees that Ava wondered when he had received forest training. It definitely hadn’t been in the five years he had served as her personal guard.

  In the long minutes they had spent waiting in the forest, neither of them had voiced the question that must have been foremost in both of their minds.

  What was the Royal Guard doing interrupting the dance of a prominent merchant caravan? For that matter, what were they doing so far from the capital at all?

  She wondered if they had reason to believe her uncle was near. Or worse, did their presence mean her brother was here? The thought made her shiver.

  It seemed a long time but was likely only minutes before Hans returned. Ava could see immediately from his posture that he was bringing good news.

  “The Guard is gone,” he said and Ava gave a long sigh of relief. “Officially they were here investigating your father’s and your assassinations. They were asking about any recent additions to the caravan.” He gave Ava a significant look and she reached almost unconsciously to pat her brown hair. “Unofficially, the rumour is that they’re shaking down all the merchant caravans fleeing for the border. Luckily for us, Ariana is furious.

  “I didn’t actually speak to anyone but I overheard several different accounts of her face off with the captain of the guards. They were in complete violation of international law, of course, which put them at a disadvantage. Apparently she’s made it very clear that if another Royal Guardsman steps foot within ten paces of her caravan without due process, she’ll be invoking a merchant’s ban against Rangmere.”

  Ava’s eyebrows rose steeply towards her hairline. “Wow, that’s serious.” She pondered for a moment. “This whole thing should work to our advantage then. They won’t dare come near Caravan Hargrove again.”

  Travelling merchants were bound by their own set of complicated laws that were administered by the caravan leader and, occasionally, by a council comprised of the merchants’ most senior leaders. The treaty that permitted them free passage through the land and freedom from persecution was one of the oldest treaties in existence. Violation of the treaty could result in a merchant ban being implemented against an entire kingdom, none of which could afford to do without the services of the travelling merchants. Not even the smallest or greediest of caravans would consider coming to a kingdom under a ban. And, if they did, the merchant council would be swift to deal with them.

  Ava vaguely remembered that any member of the merchant council could invoke such a ban and she was unsurprised to think that Ariana wielded such authority. The merchant must have been very angry to make such a threat, however.

  She could see that Hans agreed with her assessment. His entire demeanour had changed. He was relaxed and even smiling at her. Slowly she felt her own mouth smile in response.

  “A pity that the party was interrupted,” she said, the smile evident in her voice. “Sarah’s probably frantic with worry about me, though. We should probably get back.”

  “Yes,” said Hans but he stepped towards her rather than back in the direction of the caravan. She looked at him enquiringly.

  “I’m sure Sarah and Evelyn will have noticed that we’ve both disappeared,” he said. “We’ll need a reasonable explanation for our absence.”

  He closed the distance between them and Ava found herself a little short of breath. He was looking down at her with a burning intensity that was softened by the smile on his lips.

  Slowly he brought one of his hands from behind his back and she saw that he had been concealing a red rose. She had no idea where the flower had come from but its colour perfectly matched the red of her cloak.

  Carefully, he reached out and brushed back her hair, sliding the stem behind her ear. For a long moment he stood frozen there, his hand against the side of her face.

  Ava stared up at him, caught by the strength of his gaze, her skin burning from his touch. Her mind had gone numb and she didn’t even try to process the new emotions boiling through her. Slowly, slowly he lowered his face towards hers and for one charged moment she expected to feel his lips press against hers.

  Instead she felt the whisper of his breath against her ear. “You look beautiful, Anna,” he said and she felt a rush of disappointment at the sound of her pseudonym. “So beautiful I didn’t even notice a commotion coming from the camp.”

  Suddenly Ava realised what he meant. She took a quick step backwards, putting distance between them and hoping that he hadn’t seen the flush of embarrassment on her face.

  “I’m sure we weren’t the only couple to slip away for a moonlight stroll through the woods,” he said. “From what I can gather, ‘walking’ is the main form of courtship amongst the merchants as well as amongst those of the towns and cities.”

  Ava was vaguely aware of the practice but it wasn’t used amongst the royalty or nobility where arranged marriages were more common than love matches.

  “Of course,” she said, finding her voice. “We were ‘walking’.”

  Firmly taking her hand, Hans led her back towards the wagons. Neither of them said anything and Ava concentrated on keeping her face blank and trying to ignore the way her emotions roiled at the feel of Hans’ fingers twined through hers.

  Back inside the ring of wagons, people milled around and talked with agitated voices despite the lateness of the hour. Several glanced towards Ava and Hans but when they noticed their clasped hands they threw them amused glances, calling out the news to the newcomers.

  When they reached the shadows behind Sarah’s family wagon, she pulled her hand out of Hans’ grip. Sarah paced in front of the wagon and Ava stepped towards her, opening her mouth to call to the other girl. But Hans reached out and halted her, recapturing her fingers.

  Leaning in close, he whis
pered into her hair, his breath a caress against her cheek. “You really do look beautiful, Ava.”

  Her own breath caught at the sound of her true name.

  “But not as beautiful as you look with golden hair.”

  And then he was gone and Ava was left staring into the darkness with wide eyes.

  When she turned around Sarah was standing in front of her. The other girl’s face was filled with relief but also with curiosity.

  “I’m so glad you’re alright,” she said before looking significantly in the direction of Hans’ disappearance. “But it looks like you’ve been holding out on me.”

  Ava stared at her, trying to make sense of her words. Her mind had been scrambled and she couldn’t form a coherent sentence. She was sure she had experienced more emotions in the last hour than she had allowed herself to feel in the last five years.

  “The morning,” she finally managed to get out and luckily Sarah seemed to understand her meaning.

  “You must be as exhausted as I am,” she said, squeezing Ava’s arm. “We’ll sleep first but don’t think you’re getting out of telling me everything tomorrow!”

  Ava nodded her agreement, glad to have escaped an immediate inquisition.

  Once inside the wagon, she changed into her nightdress without conscious thought, her mind still malfunctioning, caught on the last words Hans had said to her.

  When she slipped into her bedroll, she remembered the flower in her hair. Carefully she removed it and after a moment’s indecision placed it beneath her pillow.

  “It’s a very beautiful rose,” said Sarah, reminding Ava that she was not alone. “He must have bought it from the other caravan, no one in our caravan grows ones with such a vibrant colour.” There was a sly grin in the girl’s words but Ava was far too tired to dissect any hidden meaning.

  Instead she fell into the clutches of sleep and dreamed that she was being chased by a wolf. She ran from him, her red cloak flapping behind her, but she was never more than one step ahead. Hans appeared to one side, an axe over his shoulder and called to her, offering to save her. She considered turning towards him but was too afraid that the wolf would catch her if she veered off course. Instead she kept running, the wolf snarling at her heels.

  Chapter 9

  Everyone overslept the next morning, a combination of fatigue from the dance and excitement from the run in with the Royal Guard. Ava had expected that they would camp for another day after the chaos of the night before but Ariana seemed grimly determined to press on.

  The leader of the caravan that had joined them for the dance rode over to consult with Ariana first thing in the morning. The result of their conference was that the second caravan attached itself to the back of Caravan Hargrove, making them a much bigger group for their last few days’ journey to the border.

  Finding places for so many wagons to camp at night would be difficult but everyone seemed to feel the benefits outweighed the inconvenience. Everywhere Ava went around camp she passed small huddles of merchants, talking in concerned voices. The light-hearted mood of the dance had been completely destroyed by the invasion of the Guard. There was no longer any chance of forgetting that they were travelling through a country overset by regicide.

  Ava was almost savagely glad for the change of mood since it was a better match for her own inner turmoil. She did not, however, enjoy having to shield herself against the constant shock of overhearing the names of her father and brother. It was a good thing she was so practiced at hiding her responses or she would have been walking around camp with a near constant twitch, so often were they mentioned.

  Surprisingly she heard little mention of Princess Ava beyond the occasional comments on her beauty and the savagery of the attacker to target a young princess. She couldn’t help but feel a little resentful knowing the hard work she had put in to rival her brother in her father’s eyes.

  Of course, that was the point, she reminded herself, my strength was always in subtlety and the power of the unexpected. I wasn’t supposed to be known as anything but a beautiful princess. The logic was sound but it stung just the same.

  She had avoided Sarah by slipping from the wagon before anyone else was awake. She needed solitude to recover from the strange emotional agitation left by her dreams, brought on, she was sure, by the tumultuous emotions of the night before.

  She kept thinking of her father and of the large wolf pelt he had always kept draped over his throne. Was it still there or had Konrad removed it? The appearance of the wolf in her dreams, along with Hans, in the persona of a woodcutter, seemed like a clear indication of how unbalanced she had become.

  She still wasn’t sure what Hans had meant to communicate in their strange interactions and she wasn’t sure how she should respond when faced with him again. She had no time to formulate a plan, however, because she bumped into him almost immediately.

  “Good morning,” he said, his usual solid calm marred by only the slightest expression of unease. “I hope you haven’t been too disturbed by all the strange happenings.”

  His eyes flickered to the group of merchants closest to them who were discussing the current state of Rangmere in loud voices. Ava understood by this that he meant the advent of the Guard and the sudden increase in interest in her family as opposed to his own confusing behaviour of the night before.

  “No indeed,” she said, matching his light tone. “Although I confess I’ll be glad when we’re past the border.” His eyes locked on hers and she carefully kept her face neutral.

  “I, too, look forward to that day.”

  She noticed that the knuckles of his right hand were white where they gripped his sword hilt. So he wasn’t quite as relaxed as he appeared, then. The thought gave her some satisfaction.

  Apparently, he intended to continue as if the night before had not occurred. She was glad of it, since she had no idea how she should respond to the strange events. Not when she couldn’t even decide how she felt about them.

  “They’ve called all the shifts to active duty,” he said. “I’ll be busy guarding the caravan all day.” There was concern now in his eyes where they rested on her. “I’ve rearranged the placements, though, I’ll be riding near Sarah’s wagon. Would you consider giving Cinnamon a rest for the day and travelling in the wagon instead? I would feel more comfortable knowing you were safely tucked away out of sight.”

  For the second time in as many days, Ava found her hand plucking a little desperately at her false brown hair. And before she had even made up her mind, her head was nodding agreement. Hans looked relieved and the sight made her nervous. If he felt so strongly about it, he must have good reason to believe more trouble could be coming their way.

  “I have to get to my post,” he said, lifting his hand as if he meant to grip hers. She pulled her hand quickly out of reach and he let his own fall to his side.

  “Stay safe,” he said, his voice low and intense.

  “I will,” she said, her own voice hardly more than a whisper.

  After he was gone she realised that riding in the wagon all day meant keeping company with Sarah.

  “No avoiding it, then,” she said to herself with a small sigh and turned her steps back towards the wagon.

  Sarah greeted the prospect of a travelling companion with delight. There wasn’t room for all four of them at the front of the wagon so the two girls would have to ride inside. Ava noticed that Sarah’s parents seemed relieved to have the excuse to send their daughter inside and it only increased her feeling of tension. Despite Ariana’s authority and her threats, Hans wasn’t the only one worried about further trouble. She wondered what new developments had prompted these fears and ground her teeth at the knowledge that as a newcomer and a mere teenage girl, she would be the last to hear any news.

  The wheels of their wagon were barely starting to roll when Sarah turned to Ava with eager eyes. Before she could get out a question, though, they were both startled by someone pulling open the wagon and leaping in beside them.
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  Ava’s hand had already gone to the hilt of her knife before she realised it was only Evelyn. She quickly let her skirts fall back into place, hoping neither girl had noticed. When she glanced up, however, Evelyn was staring at her ankle with a look of surprise. Ava returned the look with a stony gaze and the young guardswoman gave a slight shrug and let her gaze fall.

  “What are you doing here, Eve?” asked her cousin, having missed the brief interchange between the other girls.

  “The Guardsmaster wants a guard stationed in every wagon,” said Evelyn. “But no one’s allowed to be in their own. So here I am.” She gave a rare grin and Ava couldn’t help but admire the very specific way in which she had interpreted those limitations.

  “That’s excellent!” said Sarah. “We couldn’t be cosier.” She seemed determined to remain cheerful in the face of everyone’s rising tension.

  “Now settle in,” she added, “we’re about to hear all about Anna’s moonlit stroll, last night.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Evelyn, settling herself with easy grace, “do tell.”

  Ava thought she looked slightly less enthusiastic than her cousin but then that was hardly an unusual occurrence.

  “Well, there isn’t really much to tell,” said Ava, calling a false blush to her cheeks and casting down her eyes in an attempt to look demure. “I wasn’t sure…I thought you might be angry with me,” she added in a rush, raising pleading eyes to the other two girls.

  “I know we seem like an odd pair,” said Evelyn seriously, “but Sarah and I have been best friends since before we could walk. Neither of us had serious intentions towards your Hans because we would never truly pursue the same man. Sarah just likes to add excesses of enthusiasm to everything. Even the things she doesn’t really take seriously.” She directed a reproving look towards her cousin who didn’t even attempt to look abashed.

  “I always suspected there was something between the two of you,” said Sarah with great relish at being proved right. Apparently her rather shaky claim to this foreknowledge in no way reduced her triumph.