The Battle for Princess Madeline

by Kirstin Pulioff

  She had to move. In theory, she knew what she was there to do. It had already been laid out. According to Hawthorne’s Theory, she had to draw the men toward her so that they would surround her, and then the king’s men could surround them in surprise and attack. The plan’s simplicity did not calm the pounding of her heart.

  Madeline lifted her eyes and looked straight at Emmett and his brothers. “Emmett,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice as quiet as the whispers of wind. “I need you and your brothers to help me.”

  Emmett’s eyes lit up at the request. He lifted his dusty hand to his brow and bowed forward theatrically. “Anything our princess requests.”

  His brothers stared at him, fear in their eyes. Their strong arms gripped the hilts of their swords, and their faces were set firmly. They nodded in agreement.

  Madeline tried to contain her excitement. Despite the fear and dread she felt creeping up and tightening in her stomach, a calm awareness grew in her heart. Each pound of her heart was like a drum, guiding her forward to the next movement.

  Grabbing a stick from the ground, she drew a quick formula in the freshly scuffed dirt. Sweeping circles and crosses depicted their movements. The brother’s eyes opened wide as they looked from her, to the ground, and back to her.

  “This could work, Princess,” Emmett said, clapping his hands together. “This could work.” He looked around to where they needed to be and quickly spoke to his brothers.

  Madeline looked up around her and saw the morning sun reaching through the canopy above, stretching its rays to the ground, warming them with each stretch of its arm.

  The group made their way slowly away from the tunnel entrance, careful to remember its exact location. Everything had to go according to plan. They moved stealthily, quiet as deer in the forest.

  Finding Paulsen’s men was easier than they had expected. These were rough men, and their path through the forest had been trampled carelessly. A worn path used by the deer and elk had been widened to at least ten feet. The bushes stomped, the flowers trodden down—everything they passed by bore the mark of the mercenaries.

  The air grew louder. Strange grunts followed cruel laughter. The birds became silent, the sky seemed to loom darker from the smoke, and the air took on the pungent smell of unclean bodies, blood, and grime. They were almost there.

  With a quick nod from Princess Madeline, Emmett and his brothers climbed the nearest tree and waited. They took quick looks around them and marked their paths.

  The fear and apprehension that had disappeared as they were walking came back threefold. Her face felt cold, her fingertips tingled, and her stomach was so tense she felt paralyzed for a moment. Taking deep breaths, she stepped forward, slowly, then stronger, getting into position and looking up for the signal. It took a moment to find the three brothers in the trees. They had found a way to blend in, their dirt-stained pants blending into the branches, and their green robes hiding them in the leaves.

  Emmett leaned down and covered his mouth with his hands, whistling like a bird to signal they were in place and ready. Madeline drew a quick circle on the ground with her toes to mark the location and lifted her head high. The wind blew, and she felt the strength inside her rise.

  “Prince Paulsen,” she cried into the air. “Prince Paulsen, I have heard your demands, and I am here. Let’s stop this war and let all be. I am here now.”

  The wind rustled, the ground shook, but no one came. Taking a deep breath, easing the worry that they might not hear her, she refocused, planting her feet solidly into the ground.

  “Prince Paulsen, you have demanded me, and here I am. I now demand that you come to me.” Her hands balled together in fists by her side, her heart beating madly as she stood with a tense knot gnawing in her stomach.

  The men crept out of the forest. Dark greens, blues, reds, and shiny silver and copper reflected off their swords as they came in closer. The air grew fouler the nearer they got, like rotten meat walking toward her.

  Her nose wrinkled, her palms felt sweaty, and the knot in her stomach grew tighter. Her plan was working, but she knew that this was not going to be an easy trip. Her life, as well as the lives of Emmett and his brothers, was on the line. She also knew that bravery meant doing things when you didn’t want to, even when you were scared. Her head turned, looking at each man in turn. Their snarls glared back at her. She searched for Prince Paulsen. His men surrounded her, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “I demand to see Prince Paulsen,” she said in her loudest, most commanding voice, her head held high.

  “He’s not here, Princess. You’ll have to deal with me instead,” the closest man chuckled, showing crooked, brown teeth. His body was large and strong, and muscles bulged though the holes in his leggings and sleeves.

  Princess Madeline held up her palm to stop him and looked him in the eyes. “I am here for Paulsen. And he will punish any one of you who comes near me. Whether you like it or not, it is him I will deal with, and only him. Bring him to me,” she said, forcing her eyes to project a solid wall of enforcement. “Bring him here, now!” she demanded in a way she had heard her father talk to subjects.

  The man stopped in his tracks and murmured to the others. They shook their heads, none of them moving closer and none of them moving to get Paulsen.

  “He is busy at the moment, Princess, but we will keep you company until he can arrive. He is taking care of your knight as we speak.” His laughter rang through the air. Daniel! She hadn’t even thought about what was going on at the castle.

  She kept her head high, trying to hide the tears starting to well up in her eyes and the worry growing in her belly. She had to wait until she knew the plan was going to work. This was still only the first phase. Until the signal sounded, she needed to keep the men from leaving. Her chest burned from taking deep breaths, especially now that the air was filled with their stench. It was the only way to keep her focus, to keep her still while she waited.

  Sophia had been up all night, her mind counting the minutes, her thoughts going to dark places with fear over what could be happening. She had agreed to help Madeline, knowing it was the right thing to do, but not fully understanding how to play her part in the plan. The worry, the pacing, and the anticipation were all new feelings to her. They left her stomach torn and tumbled in knots. It had finally come time for her to take action.

  With a deep breath, she looked up the stairs to the castle walls and tightened her lips together. How was she going to explain this to Braden and King Theodore? She lifted the bottom of her red gown and started to climb, hoping to find the right words. The tower walls loomed closer, but still, no plan entered her mind. Walking out onto the walls, she stopped, fear freezing her in place.

  The king and Braden were pointing at the horizon. Men were clamoring all around, trying to see what was going on and where they needed to be. The air was thick with tension, sweaty armor, and smoke.

  Her steps were slow and timid as she made her way toward the men, their voices hard with anger. Her stomach churned as she got closer, feeling lightheaded and nauseated with each step.

  “Prince Braden,” she said softly, touching him on his elbow. He did not feel her. She bowed her head and took a deep breath. “Prince Braden, King Theodore,” she said more loudly, clearing her throat. Her cheeks warmed when they stopped talking to look at her.

  “Sophia,” Braden said, surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “You’re supposed to stay inside for safety.”

  “I, I...” she stammered, trying to find the right words.

  “We are in the middle of a battle,” he said, pointing to the field where Daniel was battling the two men.

  “It’s your sister.”

  “Madeline?” the king asked, his ears perking up. “What has she gotten herself involved in this time?” He crossed his arms, eyes boring into her.

  Sophia cast her eyes downward, feeling the panic rise in her stomach as her face paled. “She is gone, Your
Majesty.”

  “Gone?” he said incredulously.

  “Sophia, what do you mean?” Prince Braden asked, grabbing her hands and forcing her to look up at him.

  Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as the worry she’d felt all night rushed to the surface. “Oh Braden,” she said, looking up at him pleadingly, “she said she had to go, that there was no other way, it was her duty.”

  Prince Braden let her hands go, bewilderment in his eyes. His face tightened. “Where did she go?” he demanded.

  “She found the ancient tunnels that lead out to the woods,” she said, pointing out onto the battlefield. “She said she had a plan, the only plan that could end this quickly without much destruction. She was determined. I had to help her.”

  “She already told me her plan,” King Theodore fumed, “but I told her it was too risky. Hawthorne’s Theory! Why does she have to be so stubborn?”

  “Hawthorne’s Theory?” Braden’s eyes widened. “She’s set herself up as bait. And if she’s in the woods, Paulson’s men are heading straight toward her.” He paused for a moment. “We have no choice. We must attack now so she has a chance to escape. Oh, I wish she knew what she was doing,” Prince Braden said, his eyes focused ahead, his jaw set in stone. “Sophia,” he turned to her, betrayal and hurt echoing from his eyes. “How you could be involved in this? Why didn’t you trust me?”

  He looked away from her and turned to his father. Sophia dropped her eyes to the ground. No one saw her tears fall as she backed away slowly, slipping down the staircase.

  “Men,” King Theodore blared. “It is time for action. You there,” he pointed to several men, “secure the castle and help Daniel against Paulsen; the rest of us need to protect our princess. She is out in the forest creating a diversion so we can divide and conquer.”

  Surprised murmuring ran through the air as the men looked at the king and the battlefield, their armor clanging as they shifted anxiously side to side.

  “Get to your horses, men, and we ride. We will protect the princess and show these wildlings that they dare not attack the Kingdom of Soron! Are you with me?” the king roared to a deafening cheer.

  Men raced down the stairs, passing Sophia without notice. She pressed her body in as close as she could to the wall, the pounding of their armor on the stairs drowning out her sobs. After the men had rushed by, Sophia composed herself and gathered her skirt to start down again.

  “Wait, please,” she heard behind her.

  Turning, she saw Elias standing with his arm stretched out toward her. She walked up to him and took his hand as he pulled her into a soft hug.

  “My dear,” he said soothingly, “what you did was brave. Helping Madeline, helping the kingdom, putting yourself on the line...”

  “But he hates me now,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall again.

  “How he feels may change or it may not, but it does not change the fact that you did what you needed to do. Being brave doesn’t mean telling people what they want to hear. Being brave means doing the right thing in spite of how people may see you or react. Remember that,” Elias said with a gentle pat. They walked back to the tower walls to oversee the action.

  The king and his knights galloped past to save the princess as Daniel continued fighting off Roone and Paulsen. Roone was a large man, with wild hair and bulging arms. His face snarled into a manic grin, and his jaw jutted down like a bull ready to attack. His eyes were wild and red, looking around, unwilling to settle onto one place. Prince Paulsen seemed to relax a bit, feeling surer of himself, assuming the two of them would have no problem overpowering Daniel. Paulsen, now standing on two feet, gripped his sword firmly with one hand, while the other swept his hair back.

  Daniel stared at the two of them, more focused than ever. Breathing deep to regain composure and energy, he dug his feet into the snow- and mud-filled field, lowering his body into battle stance. A sense of calm surrounded him. The fields grew quieter, the air softer, and the smells less distinct. The more he focused in on them, the less he noticed the surrounding area.

  Paulsen jumped first, their metal swords bouncing off each other. Daniel easily blocked his jabs and pushed him off with his feet. Paulsen stumbled over a rock and found himself on his back again. Snow and mud sprayed up over his head.

  Roone threw his head back in laughter and started forward, his arms raised high, ready to attack. He ran toward Daniel, kicking up mud and splashing it onto Paulsen’s head. They connected, forcing Daniel to his knees in a defensive move, his arms paring off the sword to the side. Roone was stronger than he looked, and he was thickly muscled. It was a struggle for Daniel to keep him off, aware that Paulsen was also climbing to his feet.

  Daniel had to get one of the men down. Sparing quick glances around him, he noticed a small grove of trees to the right. If he could maneuver them there, he might have a chance.

  He turned backward hoping to lead Roone astray. Roone followed. His laughter rang out as Daniel inched back, step by step toward the grove of trees. Daniel swung his sword. Sweat poured down his face, the drops itching as they mixed with the mud and dirt. Beat after beat, step after step, Daniel counted and fought. He saw the first small bush get trampled under Roone’s muddy boots, the leaves hidden in the mud and snow.

  Daniel knew he was in the right area. He recalled the location of the large roots, only a few steps away. One step back, two steps back, three steps. Daniel lifted his sword. With a great leap forward, he lunged at Roone, twisting to the side at the last moment. Roone leaned in to counter the attack and tripped over the outstretched branches. Daniel stood over him and smacked the hilt of his sword down on the mercenary’s head. Roone slumped forward from the impact, passed out.

  With one down, Daniel turned to see that Paulsen had regained his position and was running towards him.

  Daniel took a deep breath and refocused. A small smile grew on his face as his confidence and rhythm resurfaced.

  Paulsen saw Roone lying face down in the snow and slowed his steps. Looking back over his shoulder, he searched for an escape route. Daniel was too quick. Running faster and faster, he lunged toward him, yelling in anger and victory as his sword connected with all his strength. Their blades crashed. Snow crushed to the side, their boots sloshing in the mud. Fear rose in Paulsen’s eyes as Daniel’s focused on him with a new intensity.

  Paulsen cowered under the weight of the sword, lifting his shield to block the blows, one after another. Daniel smiled as Paulsen curled into a ball under his shield, like a turtle hiding in the confines of his shell. Daniel stood triumphantly above him and hammered the sword down onto the shield one last time, knocking Paulsen out.

  Exhilaration quickly turned to exhaustion as Daniel sat down next to Paulsen. Roone still lay motionless in the distance. Daniel leaned over, his helmet off in the mud somewhere as sweat dripped down his face and off his cheeks. His hair slicked back as he ran his fingers through it, showing his weary face and tired eyes. Tilting his head back, he could see the men and women cheering from the castle walls. Their arms waved wildly and their cheers rung out through the air.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  She heard a slight ringing in the air, a slow rumbling on the ground—the charge of the horses as her men drew near. It was time. Before she knew it, the soft charge became a full-blown thunder of activity.

  The dragon banners of Soron raced through the air, dancing between the trees and sky. The horses snorted as they bolted through the woods, weaving in and out of trees, over rocks, and through brush on a mission to save their princess. The king’s men came quickly, and before they knew what was happening, Prince Paulsen’s men were surrounded. Their faces contorted into strange grins as they prepared for battle. They stood defensively with their hands on their swords, their feet planted in the ground, and their voices set in grunts and war whoops, ready to attack.

  Once Princess Madeline saw the approach, she knew her time was limited. She needed to get out before someone grabbed her. T
hrowing her head back, she gave a quick whistle. Emmett and his brothers swung down from the trees to grab her. Before the woodsmen even knew what was happening, Madeline was gone, disappeared before their eyes. In another moment, they were surrounded by King Theodore’s knights.

  Out of breath, her chest heaving, Madeline looked at the three wizards and smiled. From ear to ear, all four of them shared the same grin, fighting hard to hold back their excitement. They were high up in the trees and had to make it back to the tunnel before they were found out.

  Emmett led them back in the treetops, careful to show Madeline how to balance her feet over the branches for support. They needed to move through several hundred feet of tree canopy before they could drop down and run on the ground, certain that they were beyond all the fighting men and could travel safely.

  Bit by bit, slower than Madeline thought possible, they walked through the treetops, hoping to remain unseen. Carefully placing the arch of her feet on the slender branches, Madeline moved at a snail’s pace, feeling the sway of the tree throughout her body. Risking a few quick peeks at the fight, she saw bright flashes of swords and armor. She listened intently to the pace of the clanging metal, feeling her heartbeat quicken with intensity. The snorting horses, the smell of sweat, and the shrieks as woodsmen fell reassured her the battle was going well as she made her way forward. Each step lightened the weight on Princess Madeline’s heart.

  As soon as the battle sounds grew faint, the brothers carefully lowered Madeline down to the ground in the same fashion they picked her up. She smiled as they flipped down, as if they had done this sort of thing thousands of times. Emmett gave her a knowing wink.