Pigsty Princess

by Nancy S. Brandt

  “I am not, nor ever will be, in contention for the throne, so generally, I sit at the end of the line of royal children, as far from the King as I can. It is a subtle reminder of my position in the family.”

  “And this doesn’t bother you?”

  “It did when I was a young teenager. It didn’t seem fair that any number of nobles who will never sit on the throne either got to sit closer to Father.”

  Orlando took a couple of puffs on his pipe, thinking about her words. Had her parents spent all their time finding ways to remind her she wasn’t one of them?

  “But the celebration dinner was different?” he asked finally.

  “I guess it was,” she replied. “When Mother came into the dining room to check the servants had done their jobs, she moved my place card from the middle of the table to Father’s left hand, the place where Liliana generally sat.”

  “Why would she do that?” Orlando’s question was more for himself than for her, but he had spoken out loud.

  “I think she was in a very good mood because of the victory and wanted to make me happy, too.”

  That was probably what the young Progenna had told herself back then, but Orlando knew something else had to be going on, because dinner could not have been celebrating a victory at Clearlea.

  He cleared his throat. “I know you have fond memories of that night, but something doesn’t make sense to me. I was there, and we did not win that battle. In fact, we were soundly defeated and sent back here, our tails between our legs like young pups who try to take a bone from a grizzly bear.”

  Mariana bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to contradict you, but you must be mistaken. I remember that night well. My parents had come home from Clearlea the night before. Mother was happier than I had ever seen her. She let us stay up later than usual and gave us cake. Then she ordered the kitchen to prepare a dinner like we had never seen outside official state functions.”

  “And your father?” Orlando asked. “Was he as happy as she was?”

  Now the Progenna became thoughtful. “Honestly, I don’t remember. He came home with her, of course, but then he went into his office. I didn’t see him until the next morning.” She shrugged. “I assume he had some kind of official work to do to bring the port of Clearlea under Valborough control.”

  “That port still belongs to the Kingdom of Heyton, Progenna.” Orlando shook his head. “We don’t control it. We lost it when the King burned the whole village, killing hundreds of people.”

  She shook her head. “No. My father would never do such a thing.”

  Without speaking, he began to roll up his right sleeve. He didn’t look at her face as he slipped his shoes off and methodically rolled up both pant legs. When he was finished, her face had grown pale.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Your father happened.” Orlando’s arm and legs had been burned when he rushed into a burning building to rescue Hamneth, who had tried to extinguish the flames that engulfed an orphanage. “Most of my squad escaped to the river when the fires started, but a few stayed behind to try to save children who were trapped on the upper floors of an orphanage. I went in to help, but it was too late. The most I could do was to pull one of the men to safety.”

  He hated that tears still welled up in his eyes when he thought about that night, but he didn’t try to hide them. Better she understand he was telling the truth.

  She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense to me. Why would Father do something like that?”

  The flames in the fireplace shot up higher than should have been possible given the amount of wood he’d put there. This was another interesting development.

  “I can only tell you what it looked like to me,” he said, rolling his pant legs down again. “We fought the Heyton army for two days, and we were winning. We’d pushed them back until we had control of the village. Your father rode at the head of our forces, with your mother at his side.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if that would have been my choice, had she been my wife, but I’m not the King.”

  “Mother never used to go out to the battles with Father,” Mariana said, almost to herself. “I remember hearing them argue before they left for that one. She said she wanted to see Clearlea for herself, and he tried to tell her it was too dangerous.”

  “Hmm, well, at least I’ll give him credit if he didn’t want to risk her life. I wonder why she went anyway.”

  “I couldn’t say. I just know the next morning when he left, she was with him.”

  Curious, Orlando thought, but what he said was, “Well, whatever the reason, as long as she was at his side, we were winning. The men in my squad began referring to her as ‘the Queen of Luck.’”

  He shrugged.

  “Maybe that’s what she was, because on the third day of the battle, when we should have driven the enemy completely away and claimed the port for Valborough, we began to lose. The King was still at the head of the army, but your mother was nowhere to be seen. I don’t know why she didn’t ride out with him that morning, but he led the troops into the center of the city, and he started going from building to building as though looking for something. It wasn’t a traditional battle strategy, especially when Heyton troops were presumably being sheltered by the people. When he was inside one of the buildings, an inn or an apartment building, I’m not sure which, we were ambushed by three companies of enemy soldiers.

  “Our commanders were at a loss as to what to do. The sensible thing would have been to retreat to a safer location, but the King was out of sight and possibly in danger. They told us to hold our ground, but it was impossible.

  “Finally, your father came out, saw what was going on and ordered us all back to the water. That’s when the Queen met us. She was furious and after a quick argument with your father, or at least that’s what it looked like to me, he…”

  Orlando let out a shuddering breath. Reliving that moment in his nightmares was hard enough, but to hear his own voice repeat the experience was almost more than he could bear.

  To his surprise, Mariana spoke calmly. “You said he burned the port and the village. He shot fire at the enemy, didn’t he?”

  “No warning. No mercy. Just streams of fire and buildings, people, ships, everything erupted. I’ve never seen such horror in all my life.”

  “I suppose I understand why you wouldn’t like my father very much.”

  He took a deep breath and silently reminded himself this was all new to her and none of it was her fault.

  “A lot of people died that day,” he said as gently as he could, “but many of our men were taken captive, and Jon…the King has never negotiated with the Queen of Heyton for their release.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I have special sources of information,” he said.

  “Sources? Like spies?”

  He shook his head and took a long drag from his pipe. “That’s a word that can get someone thrown into the dungeon or worse. I prefer to think of them as friends who might learn something I’d like to know.”

  Her eyes widened again, and she pointed at him. “You’re a rebel.”

  He had to proceed carefully here. A wrong word could send her running back to the palace with information that would damage his cause.

  Traren said the same thing earlier. In fact, he had suggested they tie her up and hide her in the barn until they could smuggle her to their hidden headquarters in the old copper mine.

  Adindira knew she was here, and while she wasn’t exactly a member of the rebels, she wouldn’t do anything that would put him or his men in danger.

  “Why don’t you tell me why you ran away from the palace?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.

  She glared at him. “I don’t want to tell you anything that might get to your sources of information. You may not like the King, but he is my father.”

  The flames rose again, and Orlando knew her emotions were affecting her abilities. He was amazed she didn’t know how m
uch power she had.

  “Fair enough, but I believe you told me your situation has less to do with him being the King than with him being a father. I don’t think that kind of information would be much use to the rebels.”

  She took a wad of the fabric of her skirt in her hands and began to twist it over and over. As angry as she must have been to run away, she seemed more embarrassed.

  Finally, as the flames in the fireplace began to die down, she spoke. “He wants me to marry someone I don’t want to. And…” She bit her lip. “I found out that he might not be the man I think he is.”

  “That’s it?”

  He hadn’t intended to blurt out the words like that, but after everything he’d told her, this seemed like such a minor problem.

  “I know that may seem like nothing compared to living like this.” She waved a hand around the room.

  He scowled. “What’s wrong with the way I live? The house is clean. I have enough food to eat, and I’m warm at night. What more could a man ask for?”

  “I don’t want to be rude, but those curtains are faded and torn. Your table has only two chairs, and they don’t match. Your bed, which is fine, I suppose, is a bit small and the mattress is slightly lumpy.”

  Orlando shook his head and grinned. “Minor details, Progenna. There are people in this village who wouldn’t be able to eat tonight if I didn’t give away some meat from my stores. There’s a woman at the end of town who is blind and hasn’t left her house in two years because she’s frightened of a world she can’t see. Every day I take her a loaf of bread from the baker’s and milk from the dairy. I think the fact that I can take care of myself and others who need me far outweighs the holes in my curtains.”

  “I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry. Why don’t the Elemental priests take her to their shelters? Surely they could care for her there.”

  “She has lived in that house for sixty-five years. Even after her husband died, she continued to grow corn and carrots. Some she sold, but most she gave away to those who needed help. Then, a few years ago, she started to lose her vision. She continued to work as long as she could, but eventually she couldn’t pay her taxes anymore, and a man came from the palace. He told her she had to go to the shelter. Her house would be sold to pay her taxes. That house is her home, and she can move around in it as easily as I can here. The townsfolk told the King’s man they would care for her and if she ever got to a point where they couldn’t, they would take her to the shelter themselves. That hasn’t happened yet.”

  “But she should still receive aid from the treasury. That’s what my mother’s social programs are for.”

  “Social programs?” Orlando chuckled. “Those programs are administered by men who believe the less money they give to the poor, the more they can keep for themselves. I don’t know how much the Welfare Minister for this district gets a year to help the elderly, but I do know none of it finds its way to this village.”

  “That’s terrible. I should talk to the Queen about this.”

  “So, you’re going home then?”

  She slumped in her seat. “If I go back to the palace, Father would have me wedded to the Sahdeer of Valentine before I took two steps into the parlor.”

  He stared at her, his brows furrowed. “Valentine? That old man with the big scar from his forehead to his neck, just above his right ear?”

  She nodded. “That injury took his eye.”

  “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

  “You know him?”

  Orlando took a puff on his pipe and considered her. “Let’s just say, I know of him. I’ve seen him around, and his reputation precedes him.”

  “Well, my father has decided because Pir Leo’s Sensitivities are weak, marriage to me is not unthinkable even with my problem.”

  “Your problem?”

  “You know. Everybody in the kingdom knows I’m an Insensitive. It’s kind of a scandal.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being an Insensitive. Most commoners are.”

  “Yes, but I’m part of the royal family. I might not be close to inheriting the throne, but I am still the King’s daughter.”

  “Okay,” he said after a moment of silence. “So, what is the Sahdeer getting out of this marriage?”

  She shook her head. “I guess he wants someone to warm his bed.”

  He nodded. “I see. Clearly, you don’t want to marry him. You decided running away was the solution?”

  “I can’t stand to sit next to the man at dinner. How can I marry him?”

  Orlando nodded. A plan began to take shape in his head, and he immediately pushed it aside.

  He stood up. “I have to take some of the pigs to the marketplace. You’re welcome to stay here if you want.”

  She stood as well. “May I go with you?”

  Orlando blinked. “You want to go to the Talla marketplace?”

  She sighed. “I don’t want to sit here alone.”

  “You think my house is lacking, so you could clean up the place a little. Maybe wash the sheets from the bed.”

  He stifled a grin at the look on her face. She couldn’t have been more horrified if he’d suggested she slaughter a pig for the night’s dinner.

  “I’ve never…I mean, I know that…I don’t know…”

  “I was just joking. Of course you can come.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The ale in Orlando’s tankard lost its icy tang in the early autumn sunshine. Traren and Hamneth, as well as Airnon, another one of Orlando’s men, sat at the table with him as they watched Mariana. She stood at the green grocer’s stand, waiting as Adindira haggled over the price of cantaloupes.

  Orlando’s sister still had her sons safe in the caves, but she came into town to get supplies for both her family and for the rebels. When she’d met Orlando and Mariana, the Progenna had asked if Adindira could show her how to shop for food. Orlando was more than happy to hand his uninvited guest to his sister’s care.

  “I still don’t understand why you thought it was safe for her to be out where everyone can see her.” Traren turned away from the scene and waved toward the serving girl. “And I’m still not sure why you are out where everyone, including any of the King’s soldiers, can see you.”

  “What kind of an excuse could I give her about why we shouldn’t come into the village? She was bound to notice there isn’t much food in the house, and I couldn’t very well take her to the caves.”

  “All it would take is one royal guard to stroll through town and see her, and you’ll find yourself in a nice damp dungeon cell, sitting next to Elnys. What good would his sacrifice be then? You have to know the King is looking for her by now.”

  “She wanted to come to the marketplace.”

  “Ah, well, that explains it.” Traren shook his head and lifted his tankard as though toasting his friend.

  The serving girl came to the table, bringing more ale without being asked. The entire village knew who these men were, and most of them believed in their work. The barkeep rarely charged them for the drinks.

  While it was convenient to know no one here would voluntarily hand them over to the Guards, Orlando wished he and his men weren’t considered such heroes. He’d failed the villagers more times than they realized. Taking a swig of his drink, he wrinkled his nose.

  “What could I do, Trar? She isn’t exactly my prisoner.”

  “She could be.” Airnon was a slight youth with hair the color of fire and gray eyes. He was missing three fingers on one hand, the result of one of the rebel raids that ended less successfully than Orlando would have liked.

  “You can’t be serious,” Hamneth said. “We can’t keep the Progenna Mariana prisoner. That would be asking for all our necks in nooses.”

  “You have a crush on her, Hamneth.” Traren shook his head. “Your opinion isn’t exactly unbiased.”

  “I’m not suggesting we chain her to the wall or anything,” Airnon continued. “She wouldn’t even have
to know she’s a prisoner, but we could tell the King we have her.”

  “Right, and give him an excuse to send more troops here.” Orlando sighed. “It’s bad enough we’re the first village any of the soldiers head to when they want to blow off some steam. I don’t want more of them here.”

  “What are you going to do with her?” Hamneth asked.

  Orlando shook his head. “I did have a crazy idea when I was talking to her today.”

  Adindira and Mariana had moved down the road toward the fabric merchant. Even from here, he could see Mariana’s eyes light up at the array of colors and textures displayed.

  “She’s dangerous,” he said after a moment.

  “This is what I’ve been saying,” Traren said, nodded. “We should escort her to the border of the province and let her go.”

  Orlando shook his head. “You don’t understand.” He glanced around to see if anyone was observing.

  When it was clear no one was close enough to overhear, he said, “She’s a Chaos Sensitive.”

  The other three men gasped.

  “That settles it,” Traren said, leaning back. “She goes. The King will spare no expense to get her back.”

  Airnon shook his head. “No. This doesn’t make any sense. It’s well-known around the nobility that the youngest daughter of King Jonathan and Queen Alexandria is an Insensitive. We’ve all heard the rumors that the Queen had…spent time with a commoner. I was still in the troops then. Two of the men in my company were sent to the brig for spreading the rumor.”

  “That’s the thing,” Orlando said. “She doesn’t know about her Abilities. When I touched her with my Ability…” He hesitated.

  “Oh, unholy mother of a water dragon,” Traren said, rolling his eyes. “We all know about your parentage, Lando. Stop acting so coy about it.”

  Orlando took a deep breath. “Fine. When my father took me before the Abilities Tester, I felt the touch of his Blood Sensitivity and knew immediately what I was. She had to go through that same thing. I don’t know how she could not know what she is.”