by Heidi Hanley
As she considered the difficulty – no, impossibility – of getting through the window, the door opened. Light from the outer room backlit a short, bulky man. He lit the rushes. Thick, muscular limbs made up for his lack of stature, making him easily capable of carrying her away from the farm. He lumbered over next to her and she scooted back as far as she could, not out of fear, but to get away from his smell. The man clearly hadn’t bathed in some time and the whiff of onion and garlic on his breath was an effective deterrent from any ideas of cozying up to him, which she’d considered, given that neither of them sounded too swift, and might be cajoled into letting her go.
A brutish hand reached out and touched her hair. “His Lordship has no idea what he’s got hisself,” Wonk mused. She watched the expression on his face and knew he was wondering whether or not he could get away with sampling the wares before “His Lordship” arrived. One of his hands meandered down to the front of his trousers in a rubbing motion. She shuddered.
Any idea of trying to take him on was squashed when Winkle entered. “Don’t git no ideas about her,” he warned Wonk. “Lord Shamwa could show up at any minute and he’d be pretty mad to find his pris’ner was mussed up by the likes of us. He wants that fun to hisself.”
He pushed his way in front of Wonk. “Say, youz the Mouse they all be talkin’ about? A course ya are,” he crooned. “Do youz believe in the prophecy? You plan on savin’ King Brath?” At that, both men laughed hysterically. Winkle bent down until his pointy, features were squarely in her face. “Never happen, girly,” he jeered, spittle flying from his lips to her cheek, which she instantly wiped off.
“Shamwa ain’t gonna let that happen,” he said. “Youz got a dif’rent kind of future now, girly.” Winkle and Wonk laughed again.
“Come on, let’s leave her stew,” Wonk said, grabbing the other by the shoulder, and turning him toward the door. “His Lordship could come at any moment and then we’ll get to see some fun.”
“You’ll see nothing, because rest assured, I will be saved,” she finally said, in the most commanding voice she could summon. “And you will be severely dealt with.”
“She talks,” Winkle said merrily. “Wasn’t sure you could. Thought mebbe you was dumb.”
“The only dumb ones around here are you two thugs.”
“Thugs?” Winkle looked at his partner. “What’s that?”
“Dunno, but it can’t be good. Think she needs a lesson in manners,” Wonk said. He backhanded her across the face. “I’m sure His Lordship won’t mind if we learn ya how to behave properly.”
“Bastard,” she blurted, earning her another, harder slap on her cheek.
This time she held her tongue.
“Ah, you gets it,” Winkle said, looking pleased. “Youz just sit tight and think about that, cuz for sure, Lord Shamwa will give you more if youz think of misbehavin’.”
They tittered their way out into the hallway, leaving Briana in the dark again, cold and more worried than ever. She had to escape. She glanced up again at the window in time to catch a flash of metal in the moonlight and a flutter of black wings lifting in flight.
“Wait!” she cried, but the crow disappeared, along with most of her hope.
She sat on the hard bench, her head in her hands, avoiding the swollen and painful part of her cheek. Considering her options didn’t take long, as she didn’t have many. Kill myself? I’ve got nothing to do it with, since these goons stole my knife. Wait and pray someone would arrive to save the day? Isn’t it my job to be the heroine?
What had the crow been doing here, and who was he? He kept showing up at the oddest times. His appearance had to mean something. Lacking answers to her questions, she moved on to a consideration of what her storybook friends might do. Alice would find a magic potion to make her small enough to shimmy through the window. Peter would send Tinker Bell for help. Dorothy could throw Toto out the window so he could go find help somewhere. Rapunzel could use her hair as a ladder. Queen Elsa would simply make an ice ramp to escape. Standing next to the window, Briana reached up, but even on tippy toes, she couldn’t touch the bottom sill. She sighed. Where was a magical hero when you needed one?
With each passing moment, she grew increasingly aware that Lord Shamwa might arrive. This became the sole thought in her brain when she heard scratching on the rock outside the window. “Hello. Is someone there?” she whispered.
She didn’t expect a response and was well beyond surprised to hear Rippa Tollemy murmur back, “I’m here, milady. Shush now, and I’ll get youz out in a couple of shakes.”
She was stunned. “Is anyone with you, Rippa?”
“Milady, please be quiet. We don’t want thems to hear us, right?”
He was right, of course, so she held her questions. Instead, she paced back and forth between the door and the window, listening for her abductors and trying to figure out what Rippa was doing. A little grunt and the child’s scruffy head appeared, silhouetted in the window frame. His arm came over the sill and tossed down a corded rope to her.
“Now, hold on a sec. I’m going back down and tie this tight. Then ye can climb out. Youz can squeeze through the window, cantcha? Yer pretty small; I think you can do it.”
“I can, Rippa. Just tell me when.”
Not more than thirty seconds went by and she heard him speak again. “All right now, milady. Come on, careful-like.”
She wasted no time putting one foot in front of the other onto the knots on the rope. Her training with Jack paid off, and in another few seconds she was squeezing through the window and heading down the other side. She didn’t bother to use all the knots on the outside wall, but went down two lengths and jumped lithely to the ground next to Rippa. She squeezed him in a bear hug. He giggled, then pulled away. “No time for that, milady. We gotta get outta here fast.”
They sprinted into the darkness as far as their lungs would carry them before stopping, out of breath.
“We did it!” Briana exclaimed. “Oh, Rippa, how can I ever thank you? I can’t believe you did that. How did you know where I was? Does anyone know where you are? Did…”
His hands rose up to protest her barrage of questions. “The short of it is that I heard something from the loft and got worried, so I snuck up just as those ruffians was dragging youz out. I went to get Pa, but he was knocked out. Then I seen the crow and he made like he wanted me to follow ’im, so I did. Those guys who took ye, they were faster’n me, but the crow kept flying back and forth between them and me, so he really brought me to youz. What a good bird that’n is.”
“Indeed he is,” she replied. “Tell me, Rippa, do you know about that crow?”
“Nah, but I thought he was here to help us. Sometimes you just knows these things, know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do, Rippa. You are so brave to have done this all by yourself.” She hugged him again. “I’ll never forget this, my friend. I might make you a knight or something when I’m the queen.”
He smiled sheepishly. “I don’t need no honors. I just wanted to help.”
Briana smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you, Rippa. That means a lot to me. Now, we have to go check on your parents, and then I need to leave right away, because I’m sure those goons will come back and I don’t want your family to suffer again for protecting me.”
“Can’t I go with youz?” he asked, hopefully.
She shook her head. “Rippa, I would be proud to have you on this journey with me, but your parents need you and would be heartbroken if I took you with me. You have to go home, but someday you’ll come to the castle and there will be a place for you.” As the words were uttered, she realized she believed them. She had turned some invisible corner and knew this was her world now, no turning back to the world she lived in as Brianna Edwina Brennan. The girl without a plan, the one with a ticking biological clock, was a thing of her past. She was the future Queen of Uisneach for better or worse, and Rippa’s family were not only her friends, but her responsibility. She’
d make sure they were safe and well cared for. She’d see him safely home and retrieve the map and her belongings. Then she’d be immediately on her way.
They ran as long as they could, and walked fast when they needed to catch their breath. The first sight of the cottage, lit up like a jack-o’-lantern, made her happier than she’d ever been before.
Rodnner burst out the door. “Where on earth have ye two been?” he yelled. “Beggin’ your pardon, milady, but we were worried sick when we realized those ruffians got ye.”
They got you first, she thought, wincing at his black eye.
Briana touched his shoulder gently and nodded. “I can only imagine, Rodnner, and I am so, so sorry. I was kidnapped by Shamwa’s thugs. Your son rescued me.” His jaw dropped and he stared, wordless, at her. She gave him a gentle nudge. “Shall we go inside? We’ll tell you the whole story, but quickly. They have no reason to believe I’ve come back here, and I don’t want them to find me anywhere close to your family.”
Briana ran upstairs to dress and collect her belongings. By the time she returned, Gertrude Tollemy had breakfast on the table. “I’ll not send you out without a full belly,” she said. “You’ll need strength.”
As Brianna wolfed down scrambled eggs, warm rolls and stewed fruit, Rippa told the story of her escape. Rodnner and Gertrude kept looking with amazement and admiration at their little boy.
“I’m so sorry I’ve endangered you,” said Briana.
“Never ye mind,” replied Rodnner. “Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought we’d any part to play in saving King Brath and Uisneach, but I see now we do and ye can rest assured, milady, that if Shamwa shows up here, we’ll send them as far away from ye as we can. Go with our blessing and our gratitude and our hope that someday, when Uisneach thrives under yer reign, we’ll see ye again.”
“You will, and when that day comes, you will be rewarded for your loyalty and heroism.” She looked specifically at Rippa. “I may not be a queen yet, but all things considered, I think I can claim the power and authority to bestow an official title.” She automatically reached for the dagger in her belt, before remembering it was gone. “Thank you,” she said as Rodnner handed her his.
“Ye’ll need it, milady. I’ve got another.”
With great ceremony, she tapped Rippa on both shoulders and the crown of his head with the knife. “I, Briana, the future queen of Uisneach, confer upon you, Ripparivendar Tollemy, the title of Sir Ripparivendar, Protector of the Queen, from this day henceforth.”
Rippa beamed with pride and Gertrude clutched her heart, sighing with delight. “Yer presence in our home is reward enough. Maker bless ye, milady.”
Briana hugged them all and left quickly, racing across the Tollemy homestead to find the path just inside the wood line. Five minutes later, she came to a crossroads. Extracting the map from the pocket in her leggings, she studied it in the marginal light of early morning. Both trails led to Tynan Ibor. The narrower, twisting path went through what appeared to be some overgrown orchards; on the map, gnarly trees twisted a little ferociously. They’ll expect me to take the easier route, she decided. She rolled the map and put it back in her pocket. The trees might look spooky, but what could they do to her? She was startled by a sound and saw, perched in an old oak tree, the crow with the shiny medallion.
“Who are you? I know you have something to do with all of this, but I don’t know what.” The crow blinked and cawed vociferously. “Have I chosen the wrong way? Should I go back?” Crow hopped a bit and then jumped to the next tree ahead. “I’ll take that as a sign I’m headed right.” The bird flew forward a few more trees, looked back at her, bobbed his head and blinked and then lifted off, leaving her alone again, positive she was going in the right direction.
Chapter Seven
You Don’t Want Any of Them Apples
Briana negotiated a narrow path littered with tree roots and boulders, on grades ranging from flat to hilly to very steep. Her footwear seemed to magically conform to both foot and earth and was quite comfortable. At least she wouldn’t be incapacitated by blisters. She was grateful for the gnomes’ craftsmanship and wilderness survival skills.
Now, more mindful of the real dangers of this undertaking, she considered different scenarios and how she might react, thinking about resources she might need. She found a piece of flexible grapevine that might serve as rope and hooked it to her knapsack. She now knew firsthand how handy a rope could be. She grew more alert to the tiny noises around her and scanned for the minutest movement in the shrubs. Field mice and tiny birds, thankfully.
When the sun spiked at its zenith, she took some bread and cheese from her pack and ate alongside a brook with cold, clear water.
My mother must be as frantic as the Tollemys were when they discovered me missing, she thought. She closed her eyes for a moment as her throat closed up. There was nothing she could do to allay her mother’s fears. If she focused on that, she might well get herself killed.
Briana checked the map again and didn’t notice any changes, so she repacked her sack and continued on.
The surrounding trees thinned, allowing sunlight to warm her face, lifting her spirits. She soon found herself in a meadow of spring flowers, their floral essence saturating the air. In what seemed a constantly changing landscape, the path began to climb slightly up stone steps to a ridge. Unable to see ahead, she approached slowly and carefully, mindful of each ancient stone her foot touched. She wondered who’d taken the time to carve these natural stairs into the hill. At the top she paused again, looked around, but observed only an overgrown orchard in front of her. The path seemed to go straight through the grove. Although she remembered the map’s image of some unfriendly trees, these stood as serenely as old apple trees usually do. Surely their bent and gnarly trunks and branches were only evidence that they had been around for a long time. A barred owl startled her as he flew out of the cavity of an old oak, hooting his displeasure at her interruption. Other than the owl, she neither heard nor saw anything sinister as she walked casually into the orchard. She came to a small clearing and stopped abruptly when she spied a small herd of deer eating apples along the clearing’s edge. They became aware of her and stood to attention. A face-off followed, no one moving for several moments. Briana blinked when she saw them look at each other and begin to whisper something. The largest of the deer, with magnificent eight-point antlers, took a few tentative steps toward her. “Are you the one they call Mouse?”
At first she was too shocked to speak. The stag canted his head and waited patiently for her to respond.
“I… well, yes, I am,” she replied. “You can talk.” If a deer could raise its eyebrows, this one did. “My apologies, sir. I’m not accustomed to animals talking to me.”
He only nodded his acknowledgment. “We assume you travel to Ard Darach to rescue King Brath.”
“I do.”
“Then we shall do what we can to lead you safely through this orchard. These trees are cursed. If they should awaken and discover who you are and what you’re doing, they’ll attack you.”
“What would cause them to wake up?”
“Picking one of the apples might. We deer know which trees we can approach safely, so they don’t bother us much. If you please, walk between us and let us escort you through. It may be enough to prevent them from recognizing you.”
At his signal, the other deer nonchalantly moved around her and as one unit they began to move forward along the path. Briana, at the buck’s instruction, stopped talking. The herd stopped and grazed cautiously when a tree made a motion or waved a branch. She stood as still as stone, barely breathing. The does moved closer to her in a protective embrace, gently blowing apple-scented breath.
They were within a stone’s throw of the orchard’s edge when a tree jerked to life, its widespread boughs thrashing. The buck turned to Briana and whispered, “Run, Mouse. Go now!”
The deer tried to distract the tree by splitting up and sprinting in circle
s through the orchard. Ignoring the tactic, the tree zeroed-in on Briana. It thrust out one leafy branch and grabbed her by the throat, squeezing violently. She gasped, unable to breathe. She tore at the branch with one hand, searching for her dirk with the other. Just as she found the knife, the tree knocked it from her. Her legs were soon bound, holding her prisoner against its rough trunk. Through blurry eyes, she made out a grimacing face in the bark of the tree, with a grim, barky slash of a mouth, its menacing stare blazing into her very soul. Oh my Maker, she thought, these things are really powerful! Her only recourse was to play dead and hope the tree loosened its clench, allowing her to slip free. She willed her body to relax. As soon as she felt the branch ease up, she took the opportunity to refill her lungs with air before lunging forward, but it was useless. The moment she moved, the branch tightened again. By now all the other trees around them twisted in a frenetic and indeed ferocious dance of anger. She continued to fight and wiggle in an attempt to break away, but believed it was pretty hopeless. Unless another miracle occurred, King Brath would stay in his cursed prison and her mother would never know what happened to her only daughter.
Something whizzed by her head. The tree grunted and loosened its grip. Without thinking, she ripped herself away and ran like the wind. In seconds the orchard was behind her and she knew she was safe. She fell to the ground, trying to catch her breath.
“Milady,” a man said, next to her.