Silent Kingdom

by Rachel L. Schade

  “To cut your binds,” he explained when my eyes landed on his blade.

  My heart slowed to a soft thud and I let him slice through the rope. He was my rescuer, not another threat. I winced as I studied my raw wrists, and my body still felt heavy and sodden, but I was safe; I was alive.

  As if echoing my thoughts, the man called out, “She’s alive!” He glanced over his shoulder, apparently speaking to someone else on the sailboat. The boat was not large, but in my brief glance, I couldn’t see anyone else nearby.

  Closing my eyes, I drew a deep breath, relishing the feel of the air, even if it hurt my burning lungs. My throat was swollen, my mouth tasted bitter, and every muscle in my body ached. I shook and coughed some more before someone threw a blanket over my body and lifted me. Enveloped in wool yet still shivering, I felt arms carry me across the boat and into a cabin. I turned and saw a woman’s face, her long blonde hair shimmering almost white in the starlight.

  Once inside, the woman set me on the bed, stripped me out of my soaked clothes, and replaced them with thick, warm ones. She laid me on the single cot and pulled blanket after blanket over me, then climbed in beside me and pulled me close until my shivers subsided. Slowly, gently, warmth crept over my body. I slipped into unconsciousness.

  ~ ~ ~

  When I opened my eyes, I was fiercely hot, and the cabin was shifting while the world lurched and shuddered beneath me. All around was the roaring of waves: angry, relentless, and deadly. They screamed in my ears until I could feel water closing in. It was beating against my chest, soaking the cot, swallowing me whole.

  Thrashing at the sheets, I tried to shout, even though the effort tore at my raw throat. No sound came out. Beads of water coated my forehead and snaked down my temples. My chest was wet, soaking through the nightgown I wore, and the sheets were drenched. I’m dying.

  The world was dark. Water weighed heavily on my lungs and I could scarcely force air into them anymore. They were burning; my whole body was burning. My muscles were on fire and my throat ached—water was pouring down it. Stinging saltwater dripped into my eyes.

  A cold hand reached out and touched my forehead, causing me to shudder. Don’t let me die! I wanted to cry out the words, to plead for help, but my throat was too constricted. Why don’t you pull me out before I drown?

  The darkness descended upon me, and it was strangely silent. Peaceful.

  ~~~

  The next time my eyes opened, the world was steady and quiet. My trembling, sweaty body felt weak and my lungs were heavy. I reached to push back the sheets but a woman’s gentle voice stopped me.

  “Stay still,” she murmured.

  All of my muscles hurt enough that it took an effort to turn my head and face her. She sat in a wooden chair beside the bed. With one arm she pulled me to a sitting position, while with the other she pressed a cup to my mouth until I forced down some water. It was refreshing on my tongue, but scratched and hurt like gravel as it slithered down my throat. I grimaced and she lay me back against the pillow.

  My eyes fluttered shut. I was so tired. A breeze drifted across my face, a breath of soft air that temporarily chilled the fire beneath my skin, and I sank into sleep once more.

  ~~~

  It was a delight to be in my riding clothes again, to wear my light, comfortable leggings and tunic rather than a heavy royal gown. My hair hung loose, free for the breeze to whisper through it. Laughing, I pulled back on my mare Felwe’s reins and glanced toward Gillen. His hair was tied back from his face, giving me a clear view of the smile dancing on his lips.

  He sighed, leaning back in his saddle as Azlyn, his sleek black stallion, slowed to a walk. “It’s good to be away from all of the tiresome lessons.”

  I spread my arms wide, as if to embrace the empty expanse of the beach and the whole sea beside us. “An entirely free day to do as we please!”

  The summer sun, still high in a perfect blue sky, warmed my back. I nodded toward the waves, where the light sparkled and flashed with each crest. The breeze cooled my cheeks and ruffled my hair, but it didn’t diminish the heat radiating back at us from the long stretch of pearly sand.

  Gillen fired a mischievous grin in my direction. “I’ll race you to the water!”

  Without waiting for a response, he dug his knees into Azlyn’s sides, making the horse lunge forward.

  “This is not a fair contest!” I shouted. I urged Felwe toward the sea as Azlyn kicked sand back toward my face. Even if Gillen hadn’t gone first, he rode a royal stallion bred for speed and strength. I leaned low against Felwe’s back, dropping the reins to let her run freely until her white mane flew back into my face.

  “Victory!” Gillen called as his stallion splashed into the waves.

  Laughing, I entered the water just behind him. “An easy victory for someone who started unfairly,” I taunted.

  We spent the afternoon at the beach, letting our horses roam nearby while we waded, splashed, and swam in the shallow sea and then lay out on the sand to dry. As the sun set, turning the sky fiery shades of orange, gold, and scarlet, we at last mounted our steeds and turned back toward the castle grounds.

  When we ascended the last slope of the path leading toward home and rode into one of the side courtyards, guards and servants alike cast us small smiles. We were damp and covered in sand, still full of laughter and joy at our short-lived freedom.

  “If only everyday could be like this,” I said as one of the stable boys led our horses away.

  We trod the old cobblestones toward the heavily boarded double doors. As we passed beneath its shadow, the weatherworn statue of Queen Tamelle, her stone face etched into a stern expression, watched us disapprovingly. We walked on unfazed. The two guards standing watch under the arch of the entryway pushed open the doors and pressed their fists to their hearts in salutes as we passed through.

  Gillen squared his shoulders for appearance’s sake, even as he turned to whisper to me. “I may be the crown prince, but don’t think I won’t still shirk my studies and training from time to time to have fun.” His eyes sparkled with mischief even as he tried to compose his face into a solemn expression and sink into his role of a confident and thoughtful prince.

  But that was our last true moment of freedom. As we swept down the marble hallway, a servant intercepted us, pressing her lips into a firm line in an attempt to hide her worry.

  “Your Highness?” She saluted to Gillen, who nodded in acknowledgment. “Your father has taken ill.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The memory had been such a vivid dream that I was left with a throbbing ache in my chest when I awoke.

  Gillen. Are you safe? Do you know I am in danger? Are you wondering where I am?

  I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I could force the tears back before they trickled down my cheeks. Though I was not a priest, I dared to beg the Life-Giver for Gillen’s protection and then forced thoughts of him away. I can’t change what’s happened, I told myself firmly.

  When I sat up, I was dizzy and my head felt too heavy for my neck. But I had at least managed to sit up, proving that my body was stronger than it had been before. I ran my fingers along the warm, dry skin of my arms and realized my fever had passed.

  I was clothed in a comfortable nightgown that was too large for me, like a tent, rather than the dress I’d been wearing at the palace. I wondered if my rescuers had recognized my clothes from my uncle’s funeral and my father’s coronation, or if they had guessed my identity because of the red armband of mourning I had been wearing. Or maybe it fell off in the water, I thought hopefully.

  Heart jolting with another fear, I lifted a hand to my tangled hair. Had they recognized me? I’d made few public appearances outside of balls and dinners spent with Misroth’s nobility, but I had my mother’s eyes and my father’s jaw and nose. Would my own features betray me?

  Deep breaths, Halia. You aren’t home, or in the dungeons, or dead. If they haven’t returned you to the king yet, they must not know.

 
; Indeed, my surroundings were entirely foreign to me, as used to the castle’s extravagance as I was. Aside from the bed I occupied in the corner of the cozy room, it contained only a small hearth, a chest of drawers, a hand-woven rug, and a faded armchair. Everything was plain yet inviting, made for function rather than embellishment. Cream-colored curtains were drawn over a window beside me so only faint light trickled in. I pulled them back and gazed out on a small, empty patch of land backed by forest. A few leaves still clung to the trees, but most littered the ground. The moon stared down at me, so large and bright I had to blink to adjust my eyes. How many days had passed since the funeral, since the onset of the visions and truthful words that had nearly killed me?

  I turned toward the opposite wall, to a fireplace red and warm with dying embers. Beside it was a closed door with the soft glow of candlelight seeping in through the gap between it and the floor. Voices followed the light, and I strained to hear the words.

  “I know I’ve said it already, but I still can’t believe it. Who would do that to a child?” The woman spoke so low that I almost didn’t catch her words.

  “Perhaps she is awake now. We need to talk to her.” I recognized the voice of the man who’d rescued me.

  As they approached, I sank back onto my pillow and waited.

  They pushed the door open. The woman held a candlestick in one hand, shielding it with the other. “You’re awake,” she said, her voice soft, her blue eyes gentle. She stepped toward the bed, setting the candle on the nightstand and reaching out a hand to feel my forehead. “Your fever has broken. How do you feel?”

  Fine. I opened my mouth to speak the words, but no sound came out. Not even a groan. Instinctively, my hand flew to my neck, clutching at my throat as if I could assess the internal damage.

  The woman pulled up the chair sitting against the wall and sat beside the bed. Her husband stood behind her, his hands resting on the back of the chair. “It’s all right,” she said. “Your throat probably still hurts from nearly drowning. We only want to ensure you are safe and can return home.” She looked over her shoulder and patted her husband’s hand. “Fetch a pen and paper.”

  When he returned, he held the pen and paper out to me. I grasped them uncertainly, realizing with growing uneasiness that they would want to know who I was, who my parents were. What do I tell them? Where can I go now?

  “Could you tell us who you are and what happened?” the man asked.

  I swallowed. I am in danger, I scrawled across the paper slowly. My hand trembled, making my handwriting shaky and uneven. I can’t tell you more. You can’t tell anyone about me, or those who did this will find me.

  Glancing up, I watched concern flicker in the woman’s eyes. “I know you are frightened,” she said, “but you must have parents who are worried about you. They need to know you’re safe, and they can protect you from further danger.”

  They are the ones who did this to me. I drew a deep breath, trying to quell the pain and fear in my heart.

  “I’m sorry…” the woman began, reaching out a gentle hand to grasp mine.

  Pounding on the front door interrupted her, echoing throughout the house and matching the throbbing of my heart. The couple exchanged a glance, their eyes alert and their faces wary. I could read the question in their look: Who would be at the door at this hour?

  As the man left to answer the door, his wife crept to my bedroom doorway and peered out. I closed my eyes, trying to keep my imagination from running wild. The king and his loyal guardsmen believed I’d died in the sea, so why would they be searching for me now?

  I tried to focus on the voices, but it was hard to hear over the beating of my heart.

  Snatches of the conversation reached my ear: “We are sorry to trouble you… Princess Halia is missing…”

  It was Narek’s voice. My throat tightened and the air caught in my chest, not letting me breathe. Did they know I’d survived, or was this search for mere show? Was there no escape?

  “The king and queen fear she has been kidnapped…”

  The world tipped in front of my eyes as fear overtook me. I clutched at the bedsheets, as if they could offer me protection, until my knuckles turned white. Here is the part where these people give me away and hand me back to my enemies, I thought. Who would disobey the King’s Guard?

  Blinking, I realized the woman was standing beside the bed. “Get up,” she said.

  I opened my mouth, gasping for air like a fish as I struggled to croak out something, anything to let the woman know I was in danger, but nothing came. Desperate, I shook my head and prayed my fear showed on my countenance.

  Her eyes flared with something. Realization? Determination? I couldn’t tell.

  “You are in danger from them.” It was a statement, not a question.

  I nodded frantically.

  Eyes widening, the woman pulled off her hooded cloak and threw it over me.

  Her voice was a whisper: “Quick!”

  I stood from the bed, the cloak so long it brushed the floor behind me.

  She threw aside the curtains and pushed the window open, then turned to me. In the moonlight, her eyes flashed like sapphires and her lips were a grim line. “I’ll lift you out and try to distract them. Get as far away as you can. We are outside the city walls, but not far enough from the capital. Find some place safe.” Her slender arms hoisted me up over the sill.

  I dropped to the earth and spun to face her as she prepared to shut the window. My heart fluttered at the thought of the risk this woman was taking if Narek and his men ever realized what she had done, but her command urged me on: “Run.”

  I plowed forward, my bare feet pounding against cold grass. Reaching the forest, I raced through without any direction or purpose other than to flee. How long I should run, or how far, I did not know, nor did I have any way to measure.

  To my horror, voices echoed somewhere behind me. Were the guards in pursuit already? Had they seen me flee? Did the woman’s husband give me away? I tried to increase my pace, but I was tired, cold, and weak. The world felt distant and yet all too close at the same time. I couldn’t catch my breath and sparks of light began to dance before my eyes. Blinking, I tried to make them disappear, but the world only seemed to close in on me further. How long had I been ill? Branches reached toward me, tearing at my hair and clothes and cutting my face. I stubbed my toes and tripped over roots and underbrush, slicing my foot on a sharp rock and nearly crying out in pain.

  “This is a fool’s errand!” someone behind me said. His words echoed in the forest, bouncing off the trees until it sounded like they were surrounding me.

  Stopping and pressing my back against a trunk, I scoured the trees for my pursuers. If I couldn’t outrun them, I could make myself quiet and disappear.

  “Stop complaining,” another man snapped. “There’s no danger this close to the forest’s edge.”

  This is Evren Forest, I thought with a shudder, wondering why the obvious thought had not clicked into place sooner. The forest of myth, the one featured in so many of the frightening fireside tales of Misroth.

  But I had a real, living danger to worry about, because the voices were getting closer. Glancing up at the branch stretching over my head, I felt adrenaline fire through my body, giving me another round of strength. I leapt, catching hold of the branch and swinging my body higher, higher, until my muscles strained, ready to give out under my weight, and I managed to slip one leg over the limb. Beneath the nightgown, my bare legs scraped against the rough bark as I straddled the branch. I clung to a crevice in the trunk and pulled myself to my feet. Stretching on tiptoes, I found I could reach the next branch.

  Twigs snagged at my gown and cloak, but I tore the fabric away and kept going. The branches grew thinner until they began to shake beneath my weight, and still I pressed onward. I wasn’t satisfied until I found a perch tucked safely against the trunk, secured by three branches that gave me enough support and space to sit with my back against the tree and my feet
tucked up beneath me. From here, I could see the tops of the smaller trees surrounding me. Though most of the tree branches were bare, anyone scanning the trees from below would still have trouble finding me in my perch. I pulled my knees to my chest and willed myself to be smaller, pressing close against the branches and letting them shield me. Then I held my breath as I listened to the approaching footsteps. The men were jogging, moving quickly in their pursuit, yet slowly enough to scour the forest.

  Giver of Protection, hide me safely in Your arms… The words from the old song the palace priest recited, or at least the closest translation we had of it, flew into my mind and became my prayer.

  “There is no way she is here, in these woods,” one of the guards panted. “We should head back now.”

  “I wanted to be sure. That couple seemed to be hiding something, and I was certain I saw a figure in the woods. Besides, if I show my dedication, perhaps the king will retract his decision to name a boy Captain of the Guard.”

  The footsteps were right below me now. I held my breath.

  “You probably saw an animal.” The first guard stopped and forced authority into his tone. “And you would do well not to speak ill of our captain, who we both know has proven his skill, or I will report you. Let’s go back.”

  “Aren’t you a brave member of the guard?” the second man sneered. “Or shall I report you as a slovenly coward?”

  My foot slipped, dislodging a loose patch of bark. I bit my lip; the noise seemed amplified in the quiet of the nighttime forest.

  The second guard’s posture changed, his puffed-up chest and swaggering confidence morphing into a shrinking look as he reached for his sword hilt. “Wait…did you hear that?”

  “It was probably a squirrel. Come, if you’re in such a hurry to report back to Narek and impress him with our search of Evren Forest, then follow me!”