The Fiery Arrow

by Bo Burnette

  “Where are you going?” Philip held her gaze.

  “Into the forest, through the woods, and…across the river.”

  Behind her, Ilayda gasped.

  “What on earth are you talking about!” Ilayda advanced to confront her. “Crossing the river? Are you such a fool? That is forbidden by order of the king himself. To cross the river is to break the law, not to mention to throw one’s life away. Arliss, I—”

  “Enough!” Arliss snapped.

  Ilayda huffed but silenced.

  Arliss turned back to Philip. “It is my intention to discover what lies in the heart of our country. The books of legend drop hints regarding a beautiful and mysterious place far inland in this very realm. If I were to find it, I could change things.”

  “What do you want to change, my lady?” he asked.

  “Everything,” she whispered. “The way my father sees me. The way my father sees you. The way my father sees adventure.”

  Philip’s companion spoke for the first time since she had arrived, stepping towards them. “So this is about your father.”

  “No. This is about Reinhold.”

  “And you will disobey the law of Reinhold by crossing the river?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyebrows curved like longbows, he turned to Ilayda. “And what do you think about this, Ilayda?” He pronounced it rather like “ill-LAY-da.”

  “Ilayda!” she insisted. “Like ‘lie.’ Not like ‘lay.’ How is that so hard for everyone?”

  “Pardon me.” The tall fellow bowed slightly. “My name’s Erik, with a ‘k,’ so it’s a touch unusual, too, I suppose. But what do you think about the princess’s plan?”

  “I have always wondered why it is forbidden. Arliss?”

  “No reason at all, I am sure.” She shrugged, trying to stomach her secret. “Will you join me?”

  A thick silence hung over them for several long moments. Philip’s eyes darted about, as if calculating his answer.

  Finally, he stepped closer to her and held out the pommel of her sword. “I will join you. If you are going to do this, you’re going to need a bodyguard, as well as a guide.” He motioned to Erik.

  Erik nodded slowly.

  Arliss smiled. “Let us make ready, then.” She glanced around. In the center of the room sat a contraption of wood and rope, with a drawn longbow strapped to it. “Is this—”

  “A tillering contraption? Yes.” Philip strode over to it. “I make longbows from longer scraps of wood in my spare time, once the rest of the carpentry work is done. Usually I end up using a more common wood, but this—” he ran his hand over the smooth, bent wood “—is fine yew. Highest quality. It’ll make a better bow for Erik once I’ve finished it. It is almost done.”

  She ran her hand down the bow. Such craftsmanship! She’d never seen the like. What a strange peasant—one who could both farm and work with wood and dance!

  “We will need to bring weapons on this quest, for safety. Each of you must gather your things,” she said. “I will see to the other provisions.”

  Elowyn paced the far end of the council chamber, her hands intertwined behind her back. So much division and conflict had passed this morn. A decision had been made—yes—but other things had been created. Spite. Jealousy.

  She sighed and pressed her hands on the table. Brédan was loyal and always had been. What was more, he was a little afraid of her. Adam, however, was not. While Kenton was gone…

  She swallowed a gasp, letting the breath tighten her lungs all the way up her windpipe.

  Kenton glanced up from his map at the opposite end of the table. “Are you all right, El?”

  She nodded. “I am well in body. The council…it did not go as I wished.”

  “You brought order to it well enough.”

  “Order and peace are not the same.”

  He stood. “Do you think they’re right about Arliss?”

  Now there was the sensitive spot—the point when Adam had started boiling her blood with his words. Attacks on herself, her plans, she could handle. But when he began to malign her daughter and her husband, she could be quiet no more.

  She stepped around the table corner. “No, I think he is wrong. Arliss is not a fool.”

  “She’s irresponsible. For a normal girl, it would be fine. But Arliss is a princess.”

  “She’s more than that.” Elowyn closed her eyes. “She was born to be more.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she won’t be princess forever. One day, she will be queen.” Elowyn stared at the backs of her eyelids as a vision overtook her sight.

  There was fire—an ocean of fire, spreading on and on and consuming many stories.

  Arliss stood at the front of it all, bow in hand. A dragon rose up out of the fire and hurled itself at her.

  Then the fire turned into a river of blood, gushing out into an ocean.

  A splash of ocean became pure and clear before it took flight, rising above the land like a bird.

  Then the whole vision crystallized until it reflected like a great silver ball, like the moon. It was the moon. It whirled around, flashing futures too fast for Elowyn to comprehend.

  She staggered forward and into Kenton’s arms.

  He stroked her shoulder. “A vision? What did you see?”

  “I don’t know. But Arliss is at the front of it all.”

  The blue woolen gown tickled Arliss’s skin as she lingered in the hall. She peeked down the long corridor which wound through the castle tower’s lower floor and into the adjacent great hall. Not a soul was in sight, though voices still murmured in the council chamber.

  As if treading upon water, she made her way down the hall, past Lord Adam and Lady Elisabeth’s chamber, past the council door, past Ilayda’s room, and finally to the wide-open kitchen, its sunny windows beaming with light. In this scullery, she and Ilayda had been taught the art of cooking by their mothers. Elowyn had asked Kenton and his men to place the cooking room on this side of the castle—a room which overlooked the gardens and had windows facing both east and west; sunrise and sunset streamed in unfettered.

  Arliss worked quickly, opening her satchel with one hand and the storeroom door with the other. A brief glance about the deep closet showed her just what she would need to pack: a few loaves of bread, some salted pork, and several flasks of water. An orange or two, imported from the seaside outpost, would also be rather nice to have.

  The bag already contained an extra dress, as well as her hunting knife, but she crammed in as many stores as she could. This adventure could take many days.

  Not enough water flasks would fit in her bag, but she could swing them over her shoulder and let the other three carry their own once she returned to them.

  She reached for another orange. The council’s decision would get rid of her father for a few days or even weeks, but it would make her mother even more vigilant than usual. They couldn’t take too much time. Ilayda had insisted that they leave right away, but Erik said that they ought to wait for cover of night, and Philip had responded that the princess would decide.

  She smiled to herself. He already seemed so kind, so obliging—just the sort of person to have on this sort of adventure. Perhaps, even, the sort of person to have as one’s brother.

  She closed her eyes and could almost hear the music from the ball, feel the swirl of the steps. She leaned against the shelf and closed her eyes.

  “A bit hungry, perhaps?”

  She jumped. The orange in her hand slipped to the floor and rolled, coming to a stop at her mother’s feet. With a smile pulling at the edge of her lips and eyes, Elowyn bent down and retrieved it.

  For a long moment, Arliss gaped. She couldn’t lie to her mother—she did not deserve that. However, she could not tell her mother the truth. Elowyn was far too close to Kenton to defy his authority in this matter. She would end the expedition before it began.

  “What’s all this?” Elowyn prodded the satchel.

  �
��Ah, provisions,” Arliss managed. A twisted truth entered her head like a wriggling worm, small yet deadly. “Ilayda and I wanted to go camping.” That shouldn’t surprise her mother. They had done such things ever since Arliss became a teenager—short trips at the edge of the forest.

  Elowyn smiled. “You’re escaping, are you not?”

  Arliss’s heart stopped. Had she guessed?

  “You’re trying to get away from it all.”

  “What do you mean?” Arliss ventured.

  “I mean that you need not worry about trying to get away. Your father is leaving to explore the seashore lands. He will be gone for a fortnight at least, for it is more than a day's journey on foot.” Elowyn tilted her head. “I suppose you want some time to yourself after what happened between you two.”

  “I do,” Arliss said simply.

  “You may go. I only ask that you stay within your father’s boundaries, and that you come back within two days.”

  Arliss stared at her mother, her heart racing. “I will return by then.”

  Her mother kissed her on the forehead and glided out of the room.

  She stood frozen a moment. She’d never lied to her mother like this before. It really wasn’t right.

  But once she completed her quest—once she discovered the heart of the land—would it even matter? When she returned, having explored the undiscovered with the help of two peasants, everyone would honor her. No one would doubt her anymore. What was more, Philip and Erik would get equal honor as the royalty.

  If they succeeded. Ilayda had panicked over the idea of crossing her father’s boundaries. Was she right to be so worried?

  Satchel in hand, Arliss strapped four water flasks about her shoulders. She closed the satchel and exhaled heavily. She would not be staying within her father’s borders. Her quest denied that.

  And, despite her mother’s instructions and her own endeavors, she would not return in two days’ time.

  CHAPTER NINE: TWO LEAVINGS

  The dark cloak fluttered in the autumn breeze, as if trying to take flight with the other birds which flocked through the midday sky. Arliss pulled it down, making sure it covered the water skins and her bulging satchel.

  Noises began to collect and multiply in the tiered village below. Usually she could hear little from the flat hilltop. Now, the familiar clink of the blacksmith’s hammer intertwined with a rising hubbub of voices.

  She stepped back towards the castle, only to hear a murmuring and clanking from the great hall. Her father, perhaps?

  She couldn’t risk seeing him right now. She fled around the bend of the dirt road and wedged herself in a rocky indentation which marked the pass between the third and second tiers.

  She leaned out of the cleft and peered down on the street below. The marketplace seemed lively. Something had stirred the people together. She hoped it did not have anything to do with her visit to the carpenter’s apprentice.

  She did not hear the footsteps until they were almost upon her. She flattened herself into the alcove of silvery stone, straining to listen. The soft footfalls drew nearer, smudged into each other, then disappeared altogether. Then the person spoke.

  “Oh, blimey idiot, where could she be?”

  Ilayda. Arliss exhaled in relief and stepped from her hiding spot.

  For a moment, Ilayda looked as if she was going to scream. Instead, she grabbed Arliss’s hand and yanked her down the road toward the second level. “Hurry, if you care anything about your little quest.”

  Arliss wrinkled her brow. What did she mean? Usually she wouldn’t give time to Ilayda’s nonsense, but something urgent underlay her sharp words.

  Rough marching pounded the ground above them. As they neared the fringe of the market area, Ilayda jerked her into a narrow opening between the hill’s rocky outcroppings and the first of the village buildings. Her shoulders scraped the sides of the alleyway.

  “What in Reinhold is going on?” Arliss demanded between breaths.

  Ilayda’s head bobbed. “A lot of things. Let me catch my breath.”

  “Catch it faster.”

  Ilayda snorted. “Your father is leaving the city, and taking two thirds of the city guard with him.” So that was the marching sound which drew ever nearer. Ilayda continued, “Philip’s uncle returned from making a delivery, so he and his sullen cousin are rather stuck.”

  “We need a distraction for them. Something that will give them time to pack and get away.”

  “You’re rather slow, are you not, silly dear?” Ilayda motioned upwards.

  The guards had now marched down around the bend almost to the second tier. Perhaps that was all the distraction they would need.

  The two dozen guards marched past, their mail glittering, their bows protruding from long quivers. Such a glorious assemblage of arms! Very few carried swords besides her father and Lord Brédan—swords were a rarity in Reinhold. Iron had proven scarce. And in a land of farmers and builders, the bow was much more useful than the blade.

  As the soldiers marched by, Arliss hid her face, hoping her father would not glance at the thin slit which served as their hiding spot. Such a discovery would bring disaster.

  But he did not even glance their way; his gaze remained fixed ahead, as if in a trance. The company passed, and she felt free to breathe openly again.

  “All right, come on,” she said. “What’s your plan?”

  “I have no plan,” Ilayda said. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have come to get you.”

  Arliss stared into the knotted wood of the alley’s side for a minute. They had to get to Philip and Erik. But how could they, with the king’s company in the way? The entire town would be gathered to see the procession.

  They needed to send a message. In many books of adventure, there were keen birds that could carry messages to others. Yet she knew of no such flying couriers in Reinhold.

  Flying…flying, that was it. She needed to send a flying message to Philip.

  The carpentry shop lay just visible on the bottom tier of the village. She drew her bow, strung it, and nocked an arrow.

  Ilayda’s eyes opened wide as mushroom caps. “What on earth—”

  “Hush,” she said as she knelt to the ground. She tried to steady her arm, but it still shook with what she was about to do. The entire village had gathered just below her. So many familiar faces—Lord Adam, Lady Elisabeth, Mrs. Fidelma, and even Philip’s uncle—and this only made her nerves shake worse. She could not miss her mark. She could not be made known.

  “Ilayda, where is that notebook you carry with you?” she tried to keep her voice steady.

  “Right here.” Ilayda pulled the small notebook out.

  “Write upon it these words: ‘I will grow in the west’ and poke it over the arrow’s tip.”

  Ilayda did as asked. “Are you sure about this?”

  Arliss did not answer. With another glance at the arrow’s flight and the many obstacles in its way, she closed her eyes and released the shaft.

  As the citizens cheered and waved at the passing procession, Kenton tried to force a smile, but his mouth felt stiff and numb. Was this really the best thing for Reinhold? For himself, even?

  Of course it was. What obstinate ideas. Absurd, they were. Nothing else could be better for his country than developing the outpost which had already proved more than prosperous. More than once he had thanked God for giving him the foresight to create the outpost, even when the clan was flourishing on the Isle of Light. Now, what had first been their life preserver might become their next step. The fish, the stone, the things that could be made with shells. Just what this land needed.

  He searched the crowds. Everyone had gathered. Most were smiling. Not all condoned his quest, though; he could spot Lord Adam lingering with a livid expression still burning on his face.

  Kenton frowned, his heart sinking. He needed all the lords on his side. Yet something else was amiss, and he hesitated in his steps as he realized what nagged at his mind.

 
Arliss. She had not come. Nowhere in the march through the city had he seen her, and he knew she did not stand with her mother. Elowyn watched alone from the top of the tower. She waved at the procession as he turned his head to acknowledge her. She was his greatest treasure, standing like a watchful guardian over the entire kingdom. He could trust her to manage the realm in his stead. To manage Arliss. Arliss loved her mother more than anyone.

  Sometimes he questioned her love for him, though. If she truly loved him, she would have been here. She would be cheering, waving, celebrating with the others.

  He heaved a sigh as the company approached the gates of the city. Two guards creaked opened the massive wooden doors which swept inward to reveal the wide drawbridge. As much as Kenton loved Arliss, he still yearned to leave. Nothing disturbed him more than the thought of another fierce argument with her.

  Nothing, perhaps, except the dragging feeling he felt as he stepped through the gates and departed from the city.

  Arliss eased downward, plodding her way through the descending alleyway. Ilayda tumbled behind her. They were on the western side of the village, cutting through the narrow corridor which crossed down through the two levels of the town. Sidestepping a dusty old pot, Arliss felt her way along the wooden walls of Lord Brédan’s home. The hesitant lord’s family lived here, though Lord Adam and the rest of Ilayda’s family dwelt in the lowest floor of the castle.

  Turning her head in an uncomfortably crooked position, Arliss could just see the castle tower at the top of the hill. Her mother still stood upon its heights, watching something in the far distance.

  So the troops had left, then. People would be gathering back to their homes soon. She needed to make haste.

  “Ilayda, come on!” She motioned and picked up her pace as the alley ground leveled out into an opening. She paused with her breath caught in her lungs. No one seemed to be coming. She eased forward and prepared to step out into the street.

  Ilayda slammed into her back, pushing her forward. No sooner had she exited the alleyway than another body collided with hers. Flailing, she tried to brace herself for the fall to the stone pavement.