Until I ran away, into this really strange world, I had not really paid attention to what was outside of me. I was very self-centered, even though I didn’t think I was. Not everything had to do with me in this world, no one knew who I was and I had to fight for what I had.
When it was about me, I wasn’t always there to see and participate. I hadn’t thought of that aspect of how people interact really before now. Not having communications with my phone, not having the internet and t.v., I was finding that I had to wing it, and go by what other people tell me. And trusting that what they said was the truth.
From bits and pieces, I have a scene of the confrontation between the Prince and his father in my mind. They are in the King’s chambers, some servants with the red and gold sash standing against the walls. Even though it is daytime, there are candles and torches in some of the room to brighten it. Even the fire is lit in the fireplace.
The King is a very physical man. He would pace when he was angry. And he was very angry at his Son.
“Father, I-”
“Don’t you ‘Father’ me! My boy, it didn’t work on my father, and it doesn’t work on me.”
“I talked to her and-”
The King would round on his son at that confession with, “After I strictly forbade you from doing so? If you weren’t my only son...” I can hear the snort as he turned away and started pacing again. “You should have picked one of the women last night. The ceremony is not complete. I need you to have a son!”
For a fifteen year old, the Prince is forceful, but not like the force of nature he has had as an example. “Why a son? Didn’t I have any sisters?”
The King would not understand that question and would stop to turn and look confusedly at the Prince. “They were of no consequence. Fae brought you as the heir. You need to live up to it.”
The Prince would stick out his chin and say, “I know my responsibilities, Father. But why now?”
“That servant- assassin. He had been in this house for years, and I did not know he was from Jujune. How do we know that- she was not part of that plan? To be part of your death? Jujune wants me to concede to them, but I will not!” I can see him pounding on a table or chair back to emphasize, and to get some of his frustration out. “You will marry those women, and you will have a son. You will not bother me about that outlander assassin woman again.”
The Prince raised his voice with, “She saved my life! If she had not called out, I would be your dead Heir, Sir!”
I can see them being toe to toe, the King having to pull rank and power to order his son to back down. “You will drop the subject and go to your brides, now. If you argue with me more about it, I will choose the homeliest of the group to be your first. Now leave me!”
I have been told he turned away from the Prince, turning his back on his son. The Prince wanted to say something else, but couldn’t. The Prince turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, as much as a fifteen year old boy could.
I do know that after the Prince left him, the King had one of his servants go on an errand for him, after saying, “Get me the executioner. I think I know how to deal with this problem.”
****
I know that this is getting complicated. It was not that simple when I was going through my part. Putting together the pieces has been hard. From what Ilsin told me, my friends did not have the best of times with his father, but better than what I went through.
They were led into the large tent that the nomad clan had gathered in to see my stuff and I displayed. Heather had her big purse clutched to her, the boys were looking around being excited with all the swords and knives and stuff. Nathan was the only one of the three that had any idea what the clan was saying, and being teenagers, I keep saying it but it is true, the other two were not patient enough some times to let him translate.
The leader was sitting on his drum-stool thing with my sword across his lap. They all knew what it was. They had been there when Mom had given it to me for my birthday. The leader motioned to where the three were to sit and they did.
Steve did not wait and whispered to Nathan, “Isn’t that Tammi’s blade?”
Nathan saw the sharp look from the leader, but leaned over Heather and whispered back, “Looks like the thing that was on her wall. I don’t remember it being there when we left.”
There was a clearing of throats and Nathan sat up and looked at the leader. He was not clueless, but perhaps reckless when he spoke first, saying, “I thank you for your hospitality. I must ask, though, where did you get that sword?” Nathan pointed and there was a rumble that went through the tent.
Ilsin has told me that Nathan had just insulted their leader by speaking first. He was putting himself above his host, claiming that he was of higher rank by doing so. We have been brought up in a society that not just approves of communications whenever you want or need, it encourages it. We are curious, and being curious, we ask questions whenever we can. Sometimes we ask each other, sometimes we use the internet to get he answer. Nathan did not know how close to loosing his head he was right then.
The leader held the sword up and looked at it in the firelight. He had put another wrapping of thin leather on the hilt, but it still shone and glinted. He smiled. I had seen that smile, so I can say that it was not a nice smile. “It was a spoil of conquest.”
Ilsin was bold and was still angry for having had me... For having had an opportunity to try to woo me as however their people do it, to have me taken roughly away. He didn’t care about politics, but I had caught his fancy. The leaders son was next to him and did not care what his father could do as he snarked out, “If you can call an unarmed woman a conquest.”
There were more rumbles and grumbles through the group of men. Heather and Steve were looking around, trying to understand what was going on. Steve felt the tension. Heather felt the eyes on her.
Nathan paused, feeling the tension himself. “I did not see her when we came in last night. Where is she?”
Ilsin said that he turned away to keep his flash of anger inside when his father laughed and said, “I sent her to be married to the Prince. She is no concern of mine. You should forget her.” Ilsin did turn back in time to see his father appraising Heather and knew that it had been bad to bring the three teens there. It had been done, and he would try to protect them.
Steve put his hand on Nathan and asked, “What is he saying? Where is she?”
Nathan turned and did not lower his voice when he said, “He says that he sent her to get married to a Prince.”
Steve raised his voice. “What-?”
The men in the big oval tent seemed to surge towards them. Nathan put his hand over Steve’s mouth to get him to shut up. Nathan is a diplomat, and I am glad that he was the one who had the translation torque on, but he can’t always be strong enough to keep the others in line.
Oh, and I found out that there was a way to get the thing off. Nathan had found that out while he was experimenting with the table. I didn’t until later, but that is not part of the story I am telling right now.
Nathan kept his cool head as he whispered, “If you aren’t quiet...!”
Heather was looking put-upon, and feeling it, too. She whispered, “I should have got it last night. Those women-” Nathan had shot a look at her and she quieted. Ilsin said that he had never seen so many women who spoke when they wished, and had such strong personalities. He also had rarely seen women who did not seem to mind having their faces and skin showing.
Nathan said to the other two, “I will handle this.” He took his hand away from Steve’s mouth and turned back to the leader. “My friends are anxious to find her. Please forgive their outburst.”
The tent full of armed men relaxed some. Ilsin watched as his father looked pointedly at Heather and then at Nathan. Negotiations with such young men would seem to be easy. No visible weapons, like I had. Obviously not ready to be out of the city that they had came from. Ilsin watched as his father leaned forward, my sword still on his lap, as he said, ”Do you bring things to trade? Perhaps I can have my men escort you to the Capitol city in trade for something -” He paused as Nathan, for once, waited and did not show his cluelessness. The leader drew out the pause until he finally said, “Valuable.”
The leader looked at Heather. Pointedly looked at Heather. Even the oblivious and clueless boys that were on either side of her caught on.
As did Heather. She smiled at that with a little, “I’m going to smile at you because I’m supposed to but if I was not surrounded by barbarians with swords bigger than I am I would be ignoring you like Bobby Fullman at the Winter Formal,” smile. She leaned towards Nathan and whispered, “I don’t like how he said that.”
Now, Nathan can have a wicked sense of humor, which is why he is great at diffusing situations that I would never be able to get out of. He looked at her and did that karate-master stroking of the chin thing, which would be more effective if he had a beard. Or any sort of facial hair at all.
“He wants to do some trading. Maybe you would fetch a good price-”
Heather gave him a stare that even Ilsin understood. I have been told that several of the men in the tent had to keep from bursting out in laughter when she seemed to eviscerate him with her eyes. I have also been told that several of them were disappointed when yet another firey woman was not available to them.
Remember the purse? She opened it up and started to pull some of her stash of girly stuff out. I know it pained her, but she had scarves and jewelry and make-up and other knick-knacks in there that she pulled out, one by one, using the area of the rug they were seated on to display her... wares.
Nathan didn’t miss a beat. He turned back to the leader and waved his hands over the things Heather was bringing out. “We have some things to trade, if you wish.”
Then Steve, the big lug, started going through his pockets and bringing out a few things, including one of his swiss-army multi tools. He loves those things. Leathermen, Victorionox, multi tools... I am sure that they would not have lasted out in the wilds without his tools.
The leader came off of his stool to look at what they had placed on the ground. Ilsin followed, trying to figure out what his Father’s mood really was. Heather held up on of her scarves, one of her favorites with lines of glitter woven into the bright pink and orange fabric.
Ilsin pointed at the scarf and said, “Better not let Mararethe see that. She would tear your hair out to get to it.”
The leader smiled, I have been told a real smile, and said, “I think she would do other things, son.”
The leader crouched down and looked at what was displayed. “You have some fine wares here. I think we can do business.”
Steve waved at some of the stuff on the rug, as if he was telling Nathan what things were worth, but what he really was saying was, “What about Tammi? We need to get her away from that Prince and that marriage thing.”
Nathan kept a smile on his face. “I thought you weren’t all that concerned with her going with others, Horndog.”
Steve looked at Nathan and had not known that anyone had known he liked me. Nathan and he were good friends. It is hard to cover stuff like that.
Heather held up another piece to let it sparkle in the firelight. “You know, I should have the necklace. I am the best shopper here, I can barter with the best.”
Nathan shook his head. “I’ll just translate for you.” He picked up one of the necklaces and tried to be Vanna White as he told the leader, “Shall we start?”
****
Back with our heroine... I know that the main character in stories I love are male heroes and that the person they rescue is usually female and usually a princess or something like that. But, I am the main character in my story and I was not feeling heroic, having just spent hours being beaten, without any of the ‘but she is a girl’ crap, and spending the night in an infested prison cell. I was tired and hurt and knew that they had really cracked the rib by how it hurt just by living.
I am a wuss. I know it. I didn’t like to spar in class, but I did it. I didn’t like the little bruises that I would get. I will never complain about that again. At least they only slapped my face a bit, not tried to make my nose get a different angle to it.
I was woken by the guard. The metal of the bar door was not quiet, so I was awake and in a defensive posture as the guard came in. He had two pieces of rope in his hands and I fought as best I could against him putting one around my hands until he hit my chest and I couldn’t breathe through the fire that was there.
Eventually, I was on my feet, my hands tied behind my back and another black rope tied around my neck. Yup, black rope. As I was being led through the underbelly of the palace, I had a great view of this black twisted rope around my neck. It seemed to be some sort of a symbol. The few people we passed would see it and turn away.
I have been told that right before I was stumbling up the corridor to the outside where the executioner was that the Prince had a bit of an exchange with the fancy man. You know, the Ambassador from the place called Jejune.
The prince had his two blue-dressed guards among the red ones of his father. Waiting. The Ambassador came near, making the prince’s guards bristle, the red-dressed guards, not as much. Have you ever seen someone bristle? It is as though all their focus goes to one person, all the concentration of anger or hate being shot out of their eyes and their body trying to become bigger to intimidate as well as get ready for a fight. These guys were doing it, and I have seen it since, so I know how much balls it took for the Ambassador to slime his way up to the prince.
The Ambassador bowed. That is the right and proper thing to do to one who is of a higher rank. You really should mean it when you do it, though. “Your Highness, may I say that the attempt on your life was a shock to me, as it was to all of us.” He tried to move closer, trying to look consoling and helpless by shrugging a little and spreading his hands apart as he said, “I don’t know who would wish you such harm. Whoever could have been behind this?”
The Prince may be young and has a few years to grow still in him, but he tried and succeeded in pulling himself up to look eye to eye with the older man. “Of course, we all hope that whomever it is does not come after you for their failure.”
The Ambassador looked like he tried to smile but instead grimaced, then made a bow. He turned to leave, pausing when he heard the metal on metal of a large gate down the corridor scraping when it was moved. The prince turned towards the sound and did not see the Ambassador leave as he walked down the corridor to meet my escort, though the prince’s guards kept an eye on the Ambassador as the slimy guy ambled away.
I know where I saw the prince while I was being escorted to my doom. I will always see the rough stone of the wall behind him, the two blue-dressed guards to either side of him, making him look both very important and very small. He had stepped into the way of the men around me and that is when I looked up and saw him.
I know I had more dirt and streaks of stuff on me than the rag of the skimpy dress at that point. I didn’t have any of my jewelry, other than my torque and they had tried to take my boots, but they could not pull them from me so at least I had those, tight and hurting as they were. I was limping and I know I was the sorriest sight I had ever been right then. I had been concentrating on not coughing while trying to keep up with the guards around me because just breathing hurt. I did not want to find out what a cough with a broken rib would feel like.
The prince stood there, looking at the guards around me, never looking directly at me. It took a moment before the lead man in red said, “Highness, please let us pass.” I saw his hand go to his sword hilt, the small leather strap meant to hold it in the sheath being slipped from around the pommel as he looked at the heir to that damned kingdom.
The prince did not move, other than his chin going up slightly and his voice raising as he said, “I order you to let her go.”
There was a set of mean chortles and chuckles that went through the big men around me. They started to go into defensive postures and the lead man drew his sword. “I have orders from the King to take her to be executed.” I heard and saw the other guards, on both sides start to draw their swords, the men around me stepping forward to make a line in front of me.
He looked at me directly for the first time then and I saw determination over fear right then, but he did not let anything other than confidence come out as he pointed to me and said, “I can see that, but I am the Kings son, and I order you to release her.” For emphasis, the prince’s two guards paced forward and looked big as hell and very dangerous right then.
It wasn’t working, though. As I found some adrenalin energy starting to go through me, I looked around to see if I could use this to run, but the only way out that I knew of was through the mass of men in front of me, the jail cells behind me. I knew that the prince’s threats were not working because the lead guard said, “You are not the King. I follow the King’s orders. Please stand aside, Highness.” I know I was scared before that and I found even more of that fright washing through me as the Prince was trying to get me from these Kings guards.
The prince did not have any visible weaponry on him, though I could not really see him through the mass of muscle and armor that was in front of me. I did hear the one weapon he had used again before stuff happened as he said, “I give you one last chance. Let her go.”
I know this is not the time to really say this, but he did not sound fifteen. He sounded like a man of twenty at least as the words came out without a waiver and were strongly said. His eyes and mine met and I had a little thrill go through me, even with the fear and pain and fatigue I had. It was both wonderful and horrible at the same time. I had this prince trying to save me, and his own father wanted me dead.
While I was getting all, I think my Mom would say twitterpated, the guards in front of me lunged for the prince. The sound of the drawn swords hitting other swords and stone and wood was loud and it took me a moment to react. When I did, I kicked one of the guards in the butt, making him fall forward and hit the wall. There was a shout from down the corridor and more of the red Kings guards were running towards us.
One of the blue guards grabbed me and cut the rope, and my arm at almost the same place Ilsen had cut me. Now I understood what the arm guards were for - not the combat it’s self, but for when you were being cut out of your binds. I started to fight for real, trying to ignore the flames shooting through my chest whenever I moved a certain way. I kicked, keeping the red Guards away from me, and surprising them as I had fought before, but they thought I did not have anything left in me. The pain and the limited space and the amount of people made me pick my shots, something that Sensei had been trying to teach me for years and now was necessary for me to just live past the moment.
I found my hand going into armpits, the only thing not covered by the leather and metal and chainmaile on the guards. I was not as big as they were, but that little bundle of pressure points made the ones I was able to hit back off quickly, putting me at the point of their swords and not coming closer. It was as if I could hear and see them moving before they came for me and I ducked and kicked and hit... I had the kata opponents I needed and they forced me to use everything I knew, and more. I know the torque had something to do with my being able to know what was coming next, but it still did not help with everything.
The prince pushed his way through the growing number of guards and caught my wrist. I almost hit him before I knew it was him. I heard more of the heavy running of the red Guards and let myself be pulled away and to a side corridor that was steps away from the confined battle in the depths of the castle. One last swipe from one of the red guards hit me on my back near my shoulder and I almost let go of the prince’s hand, but his surprising strength pulled me on and we were able to get clear.
A pair of horses was being held for us in the courtyard, though the person holding the leads seemed to want to cut and run with the fighting noises following us, and I think the condition of my clothing. Of all the things that was still intact, the skirt mostly was and was getting in the way as I stumbled to the mounts.
I found myself coughing out, “You think of everything to impress a girl. You are going to be in big trouble!” I held onto the leather of the saddle and tack and found my legs wanted to fail me.
The Prince swung himself up into the saddle and turned the head of the horse towards me. “I already was.” He kept swinging the horse around and pointed towards the gate as the servant in blue that had been holding the mounts for us disappeared into the moving crowd. He looked down at me as I was struggling to get my foot up into the stirrup and said, “I could not let you die.”
For some reason, I had the energy to both try to get up into the saddle and have some witty banter right then. I blame too many adventure movies. “For that I am entirely grateful. Dammit!” I had to stop trying to get my leg up and tore at the skirt from the bottom up. With that rip there, there was enough give that I could get up and into the saddle, still with lots of effort, but I did it.
He looked down and the Prince said, “Nice boots. Come on!”
We moved just in time. The fighting inside was coming outside and I heard a call to close the courtyard gates. There was confusion, some of the guards that had been going towards the fighting sounds in the castle had to turn to try to get back to the gate, but that was just enough time for the Prince and I to get through, past the outer guards and into the city that was still celebrating the marriage of the Prince to the women of the Kingdom.
It took time to try to get through the crowd. Some people looked at the Prince, some at me, but mostly, people moved out of the way if they realized there was a horse there. I know I saw several people look at the shredded yellow dress I was wearing and make some sort of hand gesture. I still don’t know what it meant, but I am assuming not good.
Then the horn. Some of the crowd stopped and turned to see where the horn was being sounded from. Some really looked at us at that point and moved quickly away from us.
The Prince swore and it must have been creative enough that the torque did not seem to get all of it. “I thought we would get farther!” He wrestled with the reigns of his horse and turned towards the coming red guards. I saw sweat on his face, and his eyes were darting from side to side, counting the moving armored wave of doom coming towards us.
“You were pretty good in there. I hope you can be better.”
That was a bad time for all of my insecurities to pop to the surface. My stomach went fluttery and cold, my hands gripping the reins felt dead. I heard the waiver in my voice as I said, “Good-? I can’t fight.”
I saw something flash over his eyes when he glanced back at me and called out, “Well, you are going to have to, if you want to live.”
Things really happened fast then. I had to think fast and knew he was right. The guards inside the castle had not been serious about hurting the Prince, but these men were going to do anything they had to to get him, and possibly me, back. I could see it in the few intense eyes I saw through their helmets.
I think I was the only one who heard me say, “I don’t want to die,” before I reached over to someone’s bundle of kindling and sticks on his back and pulled a rough sapling staff out.
Me with my stick and the Prince with his sword faced the men riding towards us. The only thing that kept them from being there instantly were the few people who stumbled out of the clearing crowd and into their way. The peasants didn’t matter to the guards as they rode over them, but it still was a little of a delay.
The Prince was surrounded when the red guard caught up to us. I saw a rope in the hands of one of the men facing me and remembered the net that had taken me down. I used my reach with the makeshift stave and hit the man in the midsection, more surprising him than hurting him, but he dropped the rope before I was able to strike at his eyes and made him back off.
I saw that the Prince used his foot to push one of the horses away, but it was not really a good amount of space to work in. The sword headed at him was barely deflected with the Prince’s own sword. He swiped downward, cutting the belly band of the saddle and the horse’s side, making the horse rear back and away from the pain, dumping the armored man on the mud and stone road.
I was keeping the other guards away by using the stave like a ‘windmill’ above my head, once striking the side of the head of one of them, sending him to the ground. That hurt and I almost dropped my weapon from the shock going through my hands and to my cracked rib. I heard a yell and realized it was from me. It was my hurt and rage and everything I had not been able to get out over the last few months. I saw fear in the eyes of the men around me, those fighting the Prince stopping and facing me for an instant. I used that and whapped at the eyes and heads of the red-armored guards around me. I even hit the horses, which worked better as most of them were not armored at all. I never would have abused a horse before then, but at that moment, they were part of the enemy.
There was the sounding of the horn, again. There had been one man mounted that had not come close to the fighting. In a movie, he would be the steady and loyal Captain of the Guards or something. The men around us seemed reluctant to disengage, but did so, regrouping around their leader. I heard him say in a gravely voice, “We’ll let them get outside. Then we will do the Kings will.”
It is always a trap. Remember that. Movies and books taught me, but knowing it and remembering it are different things when you are trying to not die.
We ran. Well, the horses ran. I held onto the stave, splintered end over the head of the horse as the Prince led us through the streets and to the gate. I hurt all over, and my thighs were to the point that I knew I was not going to be able to stand when I got off the horse, but that was the future. Right then, we needed to get through the gate. That had just closed.
Someone had been able to send word to the few guards that were at the main gate into the city. I felt that rage in me again. So close, and yet blocked. Just like most of the last year of my life. I was not going to let it stop me.
I rode past the Prince and used the horse to bowl over the closest guard, who was not expecting anything from the disheveled companion of the run-away Prince. I used what reach I had and pounded down on the helmet of the other guard with my quickly disintegrating staff. He fell and released the counterweight for the gate when he landed on the lever. Right then, I smiled at the thought that I really wished I had someone filming that right then. It was great, and yet cheesy choreography for a movie.
We were out of the city. I found tears coming down my face as we rode fast away from the walls. I don’t know what was all in my head right then, but I just let it come out and cool-dry on my skin. We were not safe, yet.
I do remember the Prince getting my attention and saying, “You can hold your own, can’t you. Again you save me, my warrior woman.”
I know I smiled, even though the tears, and said, “I guess I can.”
Comments (0)