AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My head threatens to split in two, the remnants of a powerful drug still lingering inside me, making it difficult for my vision to move into a singular focus.
Of all the training I have received since the moment I could walk and talk, not once did a tutor cover the topic of defending myself. Not a single book titledHow to Escape a Kidnappingever crossed my desk.
Why did no one take the time to teach me how to take care of myself? As the thought rolls across my mind it’s more an angered statement than a question. Of all the absurd lessons I’ve sat through— sipping my tea like a lady, addressing those of lesser station, genealogy of past royal lines, arranging flowers. Why did none of those lessons show me how to hold a sword? How to run long distances when my life depends on it? Or how to negotiate with traitors? I grind my teeth together. I will need all of those attributes in order to escape this. None of which I have.
My chest tightens at the same time a single tear escapes down to the hard floor beneath me, but not just for the misogynistic approach to my education. Oddly enough, I picture myself standing beside my brother.If you had not died, no one would care about me enough to take me in the first place. You should have been there to protect me, to have handed the heads of these traitors to our father on a silver plate.
And then I'm next to my aunt Margaret.Father used to tell me you were the best swordswoman in all the Four Kingdoms. He told me stories of your adventures, of the masters you trained with. Why? Why did you never bestow that knowledge to me?My pain is deeply misplaced, I know. But I can’t stop the thoughts and blame from curling inside of me.
“I think the lass is crying,” the female voice says. “Not used to living like the other half, eh?” Her obvious disdain hits me hard.Not a friend.
The male speaks again. “Imagine if you woke up in a palace, surrounded by fancy plates and flowers on every table. You’d cry too when you realized your snuff had been confiscated, utensils were required at every meal, and your teeth needed brushing everyday.” An actual growl escapes from the woman at her accomplice’s remarks. Are they not friends? Or maybe they are simply good enough friends that such a comment would garner forgiveness as the day wears on.
Tree limbs pass overhead, providing brief shadows from high day’s sun and subsequent heat. As the instinctual, paralyzing freeze of fear begins to thaw at each limb, and the slightest movement shows me just how caged I truly am. My feet are tied at the ankles and something hard in front and behind prevents me from rolling off to either side. I try to rise, my elbow and knee digging into the hard wood of what appears to be a wagon bed.
A strong hand pushes me back down, and I flop against the unforgiving floor.
“Not so fast, Princess,” the male voice calls down to me. “I can dose you with more valerian root if I need to. But if you’d prefer to remain with your wits about you then I suggest you stay put.”
“Don’t use her title!” the venomous female voice whispers.
“The princess! Everyone see, we have a princess tied up in the back!” he shouts. A brief tussle ensues, followed by a light-hearted chuckle. “In the name of Haythen, I think you left a bruise.” I imagine a deep scowl forming on the ornery woman’s face. “Keep your horses bridled. There’s no one in an hour’s ride in either direction. The spring market has garnered most traveling vendors, and it’s too blasted hot for everyone else.”
“You’ll be the reason this mission fails,” the woman cooly replies.
“Thank you for the boost in confidence, Onah. You’re my guiding star, as always,” he says.Definitely not friends.
If I didn’t know any better, I would think this man couldn’t give a flying rats tail if I’m a princess or not. Just a random stranger being paid to take a helpless girl. Maybe his lack of caring could be used to my advantage? If he’s out for money, well. The heavens know I have plenty of that. My mother and father would pay any of his demands.
The afternoon is spent in silence, finding comfort in the companionship of the shapes I make out in distant clouds passing above me. The man and woman no longer speak as the speed of the wagon picks up, drowning out any sounds beside the clopping of hooves and the creaking of the wheels as they hit jutting rocks in the road. The position of the sun tells me we are moving northwest. At least some of my education has proved useful.
The wagon begins to slow, more voices drifting through the breeze. My muscles tense, freezing in place. It’s a strange feeling to be afraid of what will happen next, yet already having succumb myself to whatever fate these people have set in place for me.
“The stars are bright today,” an unfamiliar voice says as we come to a stop.
“The jewels of the sky,” the male voice says from our wagon.
The stars are bright today? I turn my head slowly, the sun shining high overhead. It’s mid-afternoon at least, not a star in the sky. My eyes squint as I try to make sense of their words.
We are stationary, but the wagon begins bouncing around as if these men are purposefully shaking it back and forth. I keep my head down, listening carefully to the sounds around me. Horses. People walking, crunching through the twigs and rocks where the road meets the forest edge. Lowered voices. More movement. Laughing.
“It’s done. More will meet you this evening to switch the horses out,” a man says. My body shivers even though the sun is weighing heavily on the day. I peer up, the smallest glimpse of tawny hair and a dark tunic reaches me before I quickly duck my head back down.
“We will keep an eye out for any… wayward travelers,” says another, and the group laughs together.
“We appreciate your help. Don’t we, Onah?” the familiar male voice says. Onah is the female companion I now realize.
“Shut up and let’s go,” she says. My skin prickles at her tone.
“See you on the other side, boys,” the familiar man says before a crack of a whip sends the wagon back into movement.
It’s a strange feeling—to have the memory of yesterday, wishing for any fate other than being queen. A position and title I’ve come to loathe and dread, only to wake wishing for the simplicity and safety such a role would bring. Tears spring again to my eyes at my childishness. How ridiculous it now seems to have wished away such an easy future.
It appears the heavens granted the demands of a foolish, entitled girl. How they must be laughing as they see me now.
15
Captain Montgomery
