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Andolyn
Mayor's Ambassador
Joined: 18 Apr 2011
Topics: 20
Posts: 852
Location: sitting barefoot in a tree in the beautiful land of Ardara, writing my tales...
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 Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 11:02 am Post subject: Line of Kavanagh: The Original |
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Note From The Author
Writing this tale has indeed been a journey. What started out as a “just for fun” activity to keep me sane during college turned into a grand adventure that I have a feeling isn’t over yet. I want to thank everyone who has encouraged me in this venture for the excitement you generated surrounding it.
To those who are joining my world for the first time, the story written in these pages, however loosely, is based in the real events of my life. Of course, the dangers and the “bad guys” are fictional—mostly the truth is in the characters encountered.
Spade, Barden, Roselyn, Ebony, Kellan, Alberich, and all the others, I hope you will be able to find yourselves here. My purpose in composing this story was to in my own way let you see yourselves through my eyes. The characters may seem larger than life to the outside reader, but that’s because to me the real people are larger than life. For me, nothing of the characters or relationships is exaggerated. Here, you will find my world in its raw form. I’ve heard it said before that maybe it would be easier to love ourselves if people were quicker to point out the good qualities they see in us that we might not be able to on our own. Well, here you go. From where I stand, these characters are you. I hope that through this, you will see how much you mean to me.
It is with that in mind that I dedicate this story to my Grandma, for teaching me to be myself, to Kurt, the love of my life, to Taylor, my Fratello, to Jordan, my constant sunshine, to my parents, who love me no matter what, to each and every person whether represented in this story or not that has touched my life over the years, and lastly, to Jameson, for showing me the value of those I love and teaching me to never take any life God created for granted.
Prologue
The measure of a person is not in their status. It is not in their strength or talent. The measure of a person is in the bonds they make and the actions they take. Whether for better or worse, our family and who we have been in the past shapes who we are today, but it is what we do with the person we are given that creates a name.
Discovering one’s true name and learning to live with it is a journey that takes a lifetime to complete. That person’s name, the definition of who they are will change throughout the years and is something that they must discover for themselves. Oh, they will be given many names by many different people, but the true name of a person, their worth, lies within.
Some people never embrace their name. They struggle for years and years without ever really knowing who they are…and sometimes, it is through the eyes of those who see them most clearly that one learns to love their name and with it, who they are.
This is the story of the latter people. Through the good times and the hardships they face together, they learn to see each other clearly, and thereby learn to see themselves.
Chapter 1: Deadly Savior, Dearest Friends
Blindly she ran through the forest; the smell of burning wood stung her nose, and the knowledge of why that wood was burning stung her heart. She ran from yet another safe house: the home of yet another family—yet another—burned to the ground in order to protect her. Oh, she knew the people were more than willing to sacrifice their lives, much less their houses to keep her safe, but she couldn’t help the twinge of pain, the remorse for being the cause of their suffering. All that eased her thoughts was the knowledge that her companions were able to escape unharmed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Until about three years before, the young woman had lived happily as Andolyn Grace McNeil. For their beauty and their availability, she and her best friend Roselyn had been chosen to be wed to the sons of the tyrannical rulers of the kingdom. Everything was going according to plan. The girls, now made Princesses, had been training to take over the throne. You see, in this particular monarchy, it was in fact the Queen who did the ruling with the King by her side.
Since the royal family had no daughters, their sons had to wed in order for the monarchy to survive. Now that perspective brides had come on to the scene, the king and queen had stepped back to allow their sons to do the ruling. Of course, given the laws, this practice was unorthodox, but who would argue with the monarchy?
During the first year of their training, the girls had been happy, and the people had come to love them as the rulers they were destined to one day become. Andolyn even spent many days visiting the villages in order to better serve her people, and it was for this reason that they didn’t hesitate to hide her from the prince in all his fury…
Andolyn could hear the horses’ hoofs as they pounded the hard ground just behind her. She ran with all the strength she could muster, but Radan’s soldiers were quickly gaining on her. While briers tore at her face and clothes, Andolyn made for a meadow she knew lay directly in before her on the winding path. Andolyn swung the graceful bow from her back and began to fit an arrow to the string as she ran; if she couldn’t hide, Andolyn would fight.
When the trees broke, to her surprise, Andolyn saw that she had run across a tiny encampment. In the small amount of time she had to look around, she noticed two short tents near a fire that had gone out in the chilly August night. Between two trees hung a makeshift clothes line draped with shirts, pants, and a few other odds-and-ends things.
Just then, the riders broke through the trees shouting madly, already celebrating a victory they had yet to achieve. Andolyn stood fast, aiming her bow threateningly at the leader. The tall man dismounted, drawing his sword.
“We have strict orders to bring you back alive,” he said in a gruff voice. The chuckle from the men following him made Andolyn nervous—all but one. A young man in the back of the group appeared reluctant to approach her. The leader continued softly—evilly, “but Prince Radan didn’t say anything else about the condition you were to be returned in…”
As the men advanced toward Andolyn, she pointed her bow uncertainly from one man to the next. Though she was an excellent marksman, Andolyn had never used her abilities to take a human life.
Suddenly, one of the men fell. What looked like a metal playing card stuck halfway out of the man’s upturned chest. Astonished, Andolyn turned at the same time that the Captain let out a cry of rage.
Gliding slowly into the clearing was a young man. Boots that came to his knees seemed to barely touch the ground, and his long, dark brown coat skimmed across the blades as he almost bounced through the tall grass. The morning sunlight danced around the crown of the young man’s golden hair, and a flicker of a mischievous smile graced his impish face. The bright blue-green of his eyes swam in a warm pool that Andolyn found very inviting. From one gloved hand to the other, he playfully tossed more of the deadly playing cards.
“You’ll die for that!!” the Captain screamed as he mounted his horse and charged at the man. He, too, soon fell from the saddle, slain by an Ace of Spades.
“You should know, Gent’s, that it is very impolite to suggest inflicting such harm on a lady.” the voice was as velvety smooth as the young man’s movements. Andolyn was struck with a sudden paralysis at the newcomer, and one of the soldiers decided to take advantage of the chance he had, but even as he charged, faster than any of them could see, a Seven of Diamonds was placed with perfect accuracy at the base of the man’s neck. Her attacker crashed to the ground before Andolyn’s feet, but his sword caught the back of her hand before falling to the soldier’s side. The young man, now standing a few feet from the runaway Princess, cracked his neck as he flipped the cards over in his skilled hands.
“Why don’t the rest of you run along now?” the man mocked coldly. This last attack on the woman had made him angry. His smooth voice had now turned hard as ice, and the look that reflected from the young man’s eyes made Andolyn shudder. She knew now that her savior’s initial appearance belied what was underneath; this man was dangerous.
Struck with the fear that emanated from him, the remaining soldiers scattered, and the man bounced forward at the same pace he had held before the small battle had begun. One by one, he pulled the cards from their victims and cleaned each one carefully. Andolyn watched him, still frozen to where she stood. She wasn’t sure whether the man was talking to her or to himself as he cleaned the first card he had thrown.
“Two of Hearts…never lets me down.” he murmured softly, sliding the card affectionately back into his deck then, looking up at the Princess he sang,
“Anthony Jenkins at your service—but you may call me Spade,” after holding up his Ace of Spades as evidence, Andolyn’s savior finished with a low bow. Andolyn hadn’t yet decided whether she should return his greeting or run for her life.
Standing erect once more, Spade glanced over the slightly trembling girl with concern before speaking again.
“Are you alright?” he took a step toward her. Spade’s voice was once again silky smooth, and the blue-green eyes melted to their original warm depth. Andolyn put her wounded hand behind her back, and answered with a swift nod. Spade took careful note of the blood on the front of the girl's pants, but before he could speak, another voice came from inside one of the tents. This one was heavier—thick with sleep, not at all like the liquid smooth of Spade’s.
“Must you be so danged noisy all the time, Spade??” Spade dismissed the comment with a nonchalant wave of his graceful hand. The flap of the tent was thrown outward as another young man struggled to exit the small space. He stood and stretched, still not noticing the young woman blushing madly.
“You’ll attract quite a bit of attention running around in naught but your skivvies, Mate…” Andolyn’s new friend remarked as he rummaged through the jackets of the men he had recently slain.
“What do you care?” came the still sleep filled reply.
“I don’t…but our guest might…”
The young man, now intrigued, stopped stretching, and looked in his friend’s direction. Upon seeing Andolyn, who was now finding the ground to be something of great interest, Spade’s friend hurriedly grabbed his pants from the clothesline and jogged over to where the woman was standing.
This man’s hair was so dark it almost appeared to Andolyn to be black. He was considerably taller than his fair-haired friend and well built. Beneath the white sleeveless shirt he wore, one could easily see the muscles that years of hard work had built. Unlike Spade’s devilish charm, this young man’s face held a soft comfort. The two were a drastic contrast, but somehow seemed to complement each other perfectly. He hadn’t shaved in what looked like a few days, and he still held his pants loosely in his left hand, but Andolyn couldn’t help but smile at the warm expression he gave her.
Without looking up from his scavenging, Spade gestured with his hand in the direction of the approaching man.
“This is my comrade, Barden, and this is…” it was at this point that Spade stood, struck by the sudden thought, and joined the two as they stood awkwardly next to one another; Barden stood almost a head taller than the Princess. “What did you say your name was again?” he looked at Andolyn questioningly.
“Um…” she stammered, frantically searching her mind for some name, any name but her own to offer them. “Some people call me Moya…” she finally said. It was a childhood nickname from a game she and the children of her village used to play. For some, the nickname stuck, but the young man hadn’t missed a thing.
“Alright,” Spade raised an eyebrow and turned back to his chore. “Then we, too, will call you Moya,” he looked at her over his shoulder with his piercing turquoise eyes, “until you’re ready to tell us your real name…”
Andolyn smiled softly. Barden put a strong arm around her thin shoulders and turned, steering her toward the little camp. “You must be hungry,” he stated, “I know I am!”
“Barden, you’re always hungry.” Andolyn heard Spade sigh from behind them.
“…Says the one who’s usually asking ME when the food’ll be ready…” Barden shot back low enough that only Andolyn could hear. She giggled quietly in return.
It seemed that Andolyn had found some guardians, and for now, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.
Andolyn watched Barden as he knelt down to reignite the fire. Spade, who was ambling up with one of the deceased men’s horses, called enthusiastically to his friend.
“I dropped lunch behind the tent when I noticed our little lady here was in trouble.”
Barden, having gotten the fire to an inviting blaze, walked past Andolyn to get the rabbits Spade had caught while he slept. It was on his way back past her that the red stains on the small bit of cloth she held grabbed his attention.
“What is that??” he looked at her nervously with his clear blue eyes. Kneeling down once again, Barden carefully took Andolyn’s wounded hand between his large calloused ones; Andolyn could see from the distinct patterns that Barden played guitar—she loved guitar… The girl winced when Barden peeled the last piece of the tattered cloth away from her exposed flesh.
“Oh! I’m sorry…oh…” Barden studied Andolyn’s face with concern. “What happened?”
“Those goons happened.” Spade puffed as he came to survey the damage after tying the new horse beside the two that already belonged to them. “One of them was faster than I anticipated…”
“Not by much!” Andolyn protested quietly, “It could have been worse…” She ventured to look up at her savior only to see that he was smiling at her. A deeply hidden look of regret lingered in his eyes as they rested briefly on the deep gash in her hand, but it was gone in an instant when he felt Andolyn’s innocent gaze.
“She’s right, you know,” Barden rummaged in his tent for something with which to clean the wound. “It could have been much worse…she could have lost her hand…or her arm…or they could have—” he was cut off when he reemerged and was hit with Andolyn’s fear filled expression. “…they could have…turned and left like gentlemen would have…” The young man sat awkwardly and looked at Andolyn. He sighed with an apologetic look about him. “I’m glad you’re alright.”
When Barden had finished cleaning and dressing Andolyn’s hand, he went back to the chore of cooking their lunch. Andolyn took it upon herself to “clean” the cuts on her face; she wiped the blood away with the side of her good hand.
Spade appeared next to Andolyn after spending a few moments in his tent. The two of them sat silently, waiting for Barden to finish. Andolyn wondered if her lack of conversation was rude, but neither man pushed her to speak, and she didn’t quite feel comfortable enough to divulge any information about herself or her situation just yet, so she held the silence like a child holds a favorite toy.
The only sound that persisted as the trio ate their meal was the chirping of birds. Occasionally one of the two young men would offer a small tidbit of information, but nothing of consequence. Both Spade and Barden could sense the girl’s discomfort and neither wanted to increase it. Finally when the meal had finished, Spade laid his hand lightly across Andolyn’s shoulders.
“What else do you need?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Nothing…” came the barely audible reply, but the dark circles that now shadowed Andolyn’s steadily dulling eyes betrayed her. The noonday sun beat down on them from above, but for Andolyn it might as well have been midnight. Spade stood, dragging the quickly fading, incognito Princess with him and led her to his tent.
“I’ve cleared it out for you,” Spade helped her get settled before silently withdrawing to join Barden by the fire pit. Andolyn lay awake for a few moments listening to the birds before drifting into an uneasy sleep.
~~~~~~~~~
Ten minutes had yet to pass before Andolyn was shaken out of her sleep and brought to a sitting position by the quietest of noises outside the tent. Several sounds came from outside—the young men were busying themselves with cleaning and sharpening their weapons, but there was one sound in particular that caught the girl’s attention.
It was a quiet jingling that came from behind the little camp. She had heard it many times before—and it had always signified death for whoever was protecting her.
It’s been months since he last found me, Andolyn thought frantically, why now? Why them??
Willand, the prince’s ruthless assassin, had been chasing the princess from the time she had left the castle. Hearing the clashes of the battle only half an hour before, Willand had made his way around to the back of the camp to wait for the deadly Spade to put down his guard. The possessions of past victims Willand had taken as trophies accounted for the soft jingling noise as they hung at his waist. Any time he had found Andolyn in the past the people had sacrificed themselves to hide her, so she had always managed to escape his clutches—by running.
Andolyn could remember the first time she came in contact with the depraved man. She had just arrived at the castle and was exploring the many vast hallways. At the time, Willand had been a squire to one of the prince’s knights, but the young man had shown a particular talent in the arts of death in conjunction with a pronounced bloodlust for the rebellion. To him, taking these lives was a sacred duty.
The princess had always thought that she had been the cause of Willand’s rise to his current rank—or downfall to it, depending on who you were asking.
Willand, too remembered his first meeting with Andolyn. He had seen the new princess and thought her to be one of considerable beauty, and wanted her for himself. On one beautiful spring day, he found her alone in the corridors of the castle and thought the opportunity was perfect. When Andolyn walked past him, Willand grabbed her shoulders, throwing her against the wall. Andolyn had struggled and eventually gotten herself free. Radan, hearing the outbursts, had come and found the scene at its end: Andolyn running towards him, and Willand cradling a bloodied nose. Enraged, Radan had thrown Willand to the dungeons, but after thinking the situation through, he realized Willand’s potential uses alive as opposed to beheaded. In payment for his crimes, Willand was made the prince’s key assassin.
The job had its perks, to be sure. Aside from free residence in the castle and a seeming place of honor at the prince’s table, Willand was allowed to do that which he loved most—his “sacred duty” of ridding Ardara of the Underground and those sympathetic to it. To Willand himself though, the position was a prison.
Willand knew that to disobey the prince would mean certain death. Radan certainly had the man power to catch him, and he’d proved his determination with the hunt for Andolyn. Willand knew the only reason she had survived as long as she had was because of the people’s love—a luxury he didn’t have. No, to disobey would mean being subjected to the prince’s wrath. All sorts of tortures awaited those who had wronged the crown. One such torture was the machine—a wicked device that uses electric currents with powerful magic to inflict tremendous torture on the victim until death.
When Andolyn had fled, Radan had given Willand orders to hunt her down and destroy any who stood in his path. The princess was the last person Willand wished to kill. Not until he gave her the option to be his forever that is. He saw her former refusal as a type of hesitation. Perhaps he’d been a little too forward. He would try to win her over. At least he would have, if it didn’t mean he would die. So for the last year and a half, Willand had been chasing the princess all across Ardara.
Any time he managed to find her, he found particular joy in destroying those who had hidden her. Men, women, it didn’t matter. Hunting his obsession for the betterment of a king he didn’t love was all worth it to be able to kill freely.
Now, here he was, creeping into this tiny encampment. He could see them—the two young men. One was definitely a threat, and would probably provide a good bit of fun if he were given the chance to defend himself. He wouldn’t be given that chance though. Willand had learned that if they were given a chance to fight, Andolyn always managed to escape. Not by her own will, but because of the people’s desperation to keep her alive. A long spike to the heart would end this
“Spade” quickly. The razor cards the man wielded would make a fantastic edition to Willand’s collection of trophies. From there, the other would be easily taken care of. Struck with the shock of this companion’s death, despite his level of skill, the other would fall just as quickly as the first. Then Willand would find the girl…
No more. Andolyn would not see another of her citizens die at the hand of this wicked man, Willand—least of all the men that had just saved her life—even if it meant taking a life for the first time. It had come to this. Her saviors and companions—she would even venture to say friends were in terrible danger. Their playful noise at the fire was keeping them from hearing his approach. Willand was not using his usual head on tactic, so the men had no chance of survival; she would not sit by. Spade and Barden would not become sickening trophies on Willand’s belt. Not if Andolyn could help it.
Silently, the girl placed herself next to a small hole in Spade’s old canvas tent. As silent as the death he brought, Willand slid into the little camp and headed straight for the backs of the unsuspecting men at the fire. Honor meant nothing to this man as long as the job was done. He would end their lives from behind then find the princess. He was already preparing. He waited for the perfect timing to release the spikes he already held in his raised hand. Barden and Spade knew nothing of the impending doom that stood a mere ten feet behind them.
Andolyn rushed out the tent flap, placing herself defensively between her friends and the deadly attacker.
"Barden! Spade!" she cried as she ran. Her heart raced and time seemed to stand still for what seemed like an eternity. There she was, standing with her arms out to her sides before the man who had haunted her nightmares for two long years. An evil grin crossed his face.
Barden and Spade were on their feet in an instant. A wicked hiss escaped Spade's lips as he recognized the man on the other side of the camp. A flash of recognition crossed Willand's face as well. How much he's changed...the man thought. Barden, slightly taken aback by his friend's reaction, paused momentarily before racing forward with his broadsword raised.
Willand, no longer having the element of surprise on his side, pulled out a small sword of his own and faced off against the oncoming bard. While the two of them wheeled round and round--Willand keeping close watch on Andolyn's whereabouts--Spade reached for the princess's arm and gently pulled her behind him, shielding her with his body. He didn't particularly like the lustful look in the assassin's eye when it fell on the girl...
Barden was thoroughly enjoying the still ongoing battle he was having with Willand and was therefore not even trying to defeat him. Spade was more than happy to let his friend have the fun. Spade was slightly more wary about the situation. This was not his first run in with the assassin. He kept one hand on his deck of cards, and the other firmly on the arm of the trembling girl behind him.
Suddenly, when Willand was becoming bored with the scuffle between himself and Barden, he darted below Barden's arm and rushed on Spade and Andolyn. Barden narrowly missed a deadly blow to the ribs with a knife by rolling out of the way. Despite his caution with the situation, the sudden movement even caught Spade by surprise. The thief was delayed in his defense by taking time to push Andolyn out of harm's way. He pulled out a card just in time to have it poised at Willand's throat. The slight stinging between his ribs told Spade that he and Willand had reached an impasse. One with a blade to the throat, the other with one to the chest.
Barden, afraid to move and further endanger his best friend, stood frozen to his place where he'd rolled to dodge the attack.
Suddenly, Willand fell, clutching at his shoulder. A silver arrow was now bringing a steady stream of blood from the deep wound. Barden and Spade turned to see a breathless Andolyn running forward. In the confusion, she had been able to get back to the tent where she'd left her bow when Spade inadvertently pushed her toward it. She stood over Willand with another arrow set to the string, ready to fire, looking as fierce as any warrior the men had seen before.
“No more,” the princess’s hatred oozed from every word. “No More!!” she screamed with tears in her eyes. Willand knew the girl’s lack of experience in the killing arts, but he wasn’t too naïve to neglect knowing her skill as well. She didn’t have to miss him. The girl could just as easily have placed that arrow directly through his heart. This would be a battle for another day.
With his weapons on the ground, Willand stood and began to back away from Andolyn. Each step he took back, she took one forward, defending the men that stood in shock behind her.
Coming back to himself, Spade stepped up, "Tell your Master what's happened here, and warn him...Anthony Jenkins is returning from the shadows, and he's not alone..." Neither Barden nor Andolyn knew the significance of the words, but Spade's entire demeanor had changed back into the rarely seen man who took down the soldiers earlier that day.
“Run,” Andolyn hissed. That was something Willand didn’t need to be told more than once, and soon, he was gone.
Andolyn stood, trembling from head to toe, still poised and ready to attack again. Spade gave a meaningful glance in Barden’s direction. Simultaneously, the two men stepped forward. Spade laid his hand on the princess’s arm, lowering it, while Barden gently took the bow and arrow from her hands. Andolyn seemed to start as though waking from a distant nightmare. She rubbed her face, staring wide-eyed at the ground.
“I think I’d like to go back to sleep now,” she whispered. Overcome with shock and exhaustion, Andolyn swayed before collapsing into Spade’s arms. Barden moved in quickly and lifted the girl back into Spade’s tent and into the bed.
~~~~~~~~~~
After seeing that Andolyn was taken care of, the two young men sat back down on the log by the fire—this time keeping their guard up.
“She doesn’t even know us,” Barden shook his head. Spade looked at him, waiting on the explanation that always followed his friend’s comments. “She could have just run. She could have gotten away while he did away with us…but she didn’t.”
“She fought for us,” Spade stared thickly at the fire. Barden nodded. “There’s something special about her. I can’t put my finger on it yet, but it’s there.” Again, Barden nodded his agreement.
“Apparently she’s done something,” Barden wondered aloud. “Those weren’t your average soldiers after her today.”
Spade shook his head and sighed, remembering a long-ago happening, “I hate those men.” he raised a hand to stop the scolding that Barden was about to give him. “I know I know, it’s wrong to hate, but I can’t help it!” It was here that Spade stood and began pacing back and forth as he fumed. He argued almost with himself while Barden sat quietly waiting for him to finish.
“That girl,” Spade stopped and pointed at his tent, “what could that girl possibly have done to merit such threats?? Disgusting—absolutely foul. The things they would have done to her, Barden—if only I could get a hold of the rest of them—I’d take the whole monarchy down on my own!!” having released most of his frustration, Spade rejoined his friend on the log by the fire and stared blankly into the blaze. “And the worst part is…I let them get to her…I allowed them to hurt her, and then she turns around and saves my life.”
Barden didn’t look at Spade when he spoke, “At least you were there; I was asleep in the tent…” They both sighed heavily. Then Barden shook his head, “Do you realize that we’ve known this girl for less than two hours, and we’re already plotting to dethrone the Monarchy on her behalf?” Spade picked up the glass of ale he had been drinking during their meal and raised it slightly to the fire then toward his tent where the battered Andolyn slept in a silent toast before taking a long drink; Barden did likewise.
~~~~~~~~~
Andolyn woke three hours later to the sounds of her companions packing in the camp. She rubbed her bandaged hand; the pain was worse than anything she had experienced before. She wondered what was to become of her now. Would Spade and Barden wish her farewell? Would she be alone until she could find another safe haven? Andolyn’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Barden’s voice at the front of the tent.
“Should we wake her?” his hushed tone sounded reluctant to do so.
“No,” Spade’s silky voice answered, “it looks like she’s been through a lot—and not just today—let her sleep as long as she will. We can leave as soon as she wakes.” Andolyn smiled at her tenderhearted friends. She quietly lifted the flap of Spade’s tent and stood next to Barden.
“Well, good morning, Princess!” he sang. Andolyn’s heart skipped a beat.
They know! she thought frantically, but Spade’s lighthearted laugh let her know that this was simply her new pet-name. The camp was now gone; the only sign that they had been there at all was Spade’s canvas tent that she had just exited. After watching her look around for a moment, Barden spoke.
“We need to leave,” Andolyn sensed a slight urgency in the words, but it was the look in Barden’s deep blue eyes that made her worry. “Spade really did a good job of making friends this morning from what he tells me. We’re afraid they might come back for a rematch.”
“And should that happen,” Spade chimed in with a tone that almost broke Andolyn’s heart, “we want you as far away from here as possible…” He eyed the girl’s bandaged hand with unbridled remorse in his eyes. She slid it out of his view without letting on as though she meant to.
Andolyn nodded thinking this was goodbye, “Where will I go?” She didn’t bother trying to sound brave. It was then that two long arms wrapped around her from behind as Barden spoke.
“There’s a town about a two day’s journey from here. We’ll make for that,” he paused here to give Andolyn a gentle squeeze, “don’t you worry, you’re ours now, and that means we keep you safe.” Andolyn glanced at Spade who nodded with a smile, then she turned suddenly in Barden’s arms and laid her cheek against his shoulder.
“Thank you…” she breathed quietly.
*****
I realize this was really long, but it's almost exactly the same as the SG at this point...with the addition of the Author's Note and Prologue.
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Andolyn
Mayor's Ambassador
Joined: 18 Apr 2011
Topics: 20
Posts: 852
Location: sitting barefoot in a tree in the beautiful land of Ardara, writing my tales...
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| Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 11:20 am Post subject: Chapter 2 Part 1 |
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Prince Radan paced impatiently around his chambers. The party he had sent after the princess had yet to report back to him, and he needed her dead. She knew far too much.
There was a knock on the large wooden door to which he replied, “Enter!” One of the soldiers that had been involved in the day’s events—the reluctant one, in the back—removed his hat and slid into the room without meeting the prince’s impatient glare. “Well, Gawain?” the prince demanded, “Did you take care of her? And where is Captain Darion?”
“The—the Captain…” stammered the man nervously, “You see, Milord, we were…caught by surprise…”
“What??” Prince Radan looked as though he would explode with anger.
“She—the princess, I mean—she had help! There was a young man with her. He killed the captain and two other men.”
“A…man…?” Radan turned to look out the window. “Who was this…man?”
“I know not, Majesty,” Sir Gawain stared at the floor, “He was nothing like I’ve ever seen before. He wielded four sided daggers with an inhuman speed, and when one of the men tried to attack the princess he got very angry—Lord, if you could have seen! It was like staring into the eyes of a demon!”
The prince’s mind was racing now. Who was this fantastic man that turned away his troop single handedly? Radan knew of only two with this ability, but it couldn’t be. They had both been absent from the Prince’s ever watchful radar for years—he believed them to have fled Ardara altogether.
“Now,” he mused, “This man of yours that attacked Andolyn…what became of that?”
The soldier looked up briefly before returning his gaze to the floor. “The young man struck him down with one of his daggers. Adaro only managed to cut the girl’s hand.” Gawain cowered slightly expecting another outburst from Radan. The response he actually received caught him off guard.
“Good…” Prince Radan stared out the window with a nasty smirk on his face. Confused, the soldier risked asking.
“Good, Milord?”
“Yes…very good,” the reply was a wicked hiss that unnerved the man standing at the door, “what the little princess and her new friend don’t realize is that I coated all of your weapons in a slow poison…” Sir Gawain looked questioningly at Radan, but the prince was too deep in his own thoughts to notice. “It’s extremely rare. It could take several months to fully take effect. In the next few days, she will notice that the wound isn’t healing as it should. She will probably blame it on a simple infection. Eventually though, the poison will begin to spread and will slowly kill her…” The soldier gazed at him in horror. The prince meant to make the girl suffer; he was torturing her. Radan turned to look at the solder who was frantically reevaluating his beliefs of the way his country was operating.
“Good work. Now go assemble my finest troops,” an evil grin crossed Radan’s face.
“That fool who’s helping her doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. I will have his head!”
~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ow…” Spade rubbed his neck, “I’ve got a headache all of a sudden…”
“Weird,” Barden shrugged. Darkness was covering the path as the sun set over the distant mountains. Andolyn rode quietly behind the young men debating on whether or not to reveal herself to them.
Somewhere around an hour after sunset, Barden pulled the small guitar Andolyn had suspected from one of his larger saddle bags. He tuned it and began a quick, joyous song. Spade bit his lip for a moment before venturing to speak.
“So, Moya,” the girl didn’t look up. “Where are you from?”
“I grew up in Bridlestrom,” she answered, and the conversation died there. Barden finished his song then passed the guitar to Spade who picked a slow, sad melody with no words. Barden looked over his shoulder at the mysterious young woman; she was staring out across a large meadow they were passing. He had found her attractive from the time of their meeting, but there in the light of the full moon, her beauty was profound.
The mist of the cool night caught in her blonde curls forming drops of dew that reflected the soft moonlight like the furthest, most precious stars in the night sky. Her pale skin shown faintly in the light, and her emerald eyes glittered like the Aldonean Seas. Barden punched Spade hard in the arm, then shushed him before he could protest and pointed at the silent girl. Spade turned too, and had to keep from gasping aloud. The dew in Andolyn’s hair caught his attention as well. He noticed the way several drops had accumulated around the top of her hair. Barden had jokingly referred to the girl as “Princess” earlier that day, but Spade was struck by how well that delicate crown of mist suited her. He noticed for the first time the way she carried herself; she possessed an air of regality that neither man had picked up on before that moment.
When Spade stopped playing, Andolyn began to hum softly. The two young men faced forward again and listened as, slowly, Andolyn’s humming turned to singing. Her voice was light, but it was pure and as clear as the night sky that revealed her beauty. Though the song was one that neither of them had heard, Spade found himself playing a simple accompaniment to it that grew into an intricately beautiful song of its own. It was as though he couldn’t control what he was doing.
Complementing her felt natural, and disrupting the beautiful sound they made together would have felt like a sin. The song was slow and hypnotic; even the wind in the trees seemed to be under some spell.
When their song had finished, Andolyn smiled, “that was fun.” Without a word, Spade handed the guitar back to Barden who simply stared at his friend in astonishment.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was Andolyn who broke the few moments of silence this time. “How did you two end up together?” she asked, riding forward to where she was between the two.
“Well,” Barden began surprised that the girl was speaking voluntarily, “It’s nothing spectacular really. We were both roaming the countryside, ran into one another, and got along really well, so we decided to roam together and see what mischief we could stir up.” He laughed suddenly at a fond memory that had come to mind. “Spade! Do you remember—“
“Shh!” Spade hissed. He stopped his horse and listened. “Horses; on the road behind us—there are a lot of them coming fast.”
“Radan’s men!” Andolyn’s eyes grew wide.
“Get her out of here,” Barden instructed Spade.
“What? No!” Spade protested, “You can’t fight them all!”
“Did I say I meant to fight them?” Spade raised an eyebrow at his friend’s words. “They didn’t see me earlier, Spade. They don’t know I’m with you. Just take her and run. I’ll distract them for awhile then catch up with you later.” Spade nodded. He didn’t like the plan, but they really had no choice. They couldn’t send Andolyn on by herself in case the troop split up, and they certainly couldn’t keep her there in the road. There was no sense in fighting either if Barden could send them in the wrong direction or at least slow them down. Barden was right; the only reasonable option was to leave him there to face the soldiers.
Spade smacked Andolyn’s horse on the rear then kicked his own hard in the sides, racing off the road and into the dark forest just behind the frightened girl. Barden pulled up his guitar and began singing a loud, hearty tavern song to drown out the sounds of his retreating companions.
“Protect them…” he prayed silently.
“Protect him…” The princess whispered, looking back over her shoulder.
Barden slowed the pace of his steed and played as if nothing were happening. Soon, the soldiers rounded the bend that was hiding him from their view and had the young man surrounded. With the blades of twelve swords pointed at his torso, Barden was sure the entire troop must be able to hear his frantically pounding heart.
“Evening, Gentlemen!” he greeted them. One would have thought he was entertaining at a local tavern the way he smiled. His voice was flawlessly even and natural. “Might I interest you in a song? A little dance perhaps? Barden leapt down from his horse and began the tavern song again.
“Silence!!” the leader rode forward, placing the tip of his blade directly over Barden’s heart. “Where are the princess and her companion?”
The Princess? Barden thought, Do they mean Moya? “I haven’t seen a princess…” he said aloud. “Besides, what would a princess be doing this far from Darbinshire? Especially with a one man escort as you suggested…” The man pushed his sword to the point that Barden felt pain, but he didn’t show any sign of distress.
“We clearly heard a woman’s voice only moments ago…” The soldier glared at Barden fiercely.
“Oh! That!” Barden laughed lightly. “Well, I was just practicing my falsetto, see?” Barden proceeded to demonstrate with an ear splitting rendition of Andolyn’s song that made the entire group moan and cover their ears. To add effect, he began an improvised skipping routine and only stopped when the leader shoved him with the razor sharp tip of the long sword. Barden grabbed his chest; he could feel the warm blood through his shirt.
“You’d better be thankful His Majesty didn’t tamper with the weapons this evening…” the leader scoffed. “Now, no more games. The princess would have been a young woman. Her hair is blonde and her left hand was injured. The young man with her also had blonde hair. He carried a deck of playing cards with blades for edges.”
“Oh! That couple…” Barden nodded, knowing he couldn’t keep them here any longer or they would kill him without hesitation. “Yes, they passed here about fifteen minutes before you gentlemen came through. They headed up the road toward Bellshire. Seemed to be in an awful hurry…Pretty little thing she was…”
“Alright, Men, to arms! They must not survive the night!!” The newly promoted captain shot off down the road with the rest of his men just behind him.
Barden held his hand to his chest and waited a while to move in order to avoid suspicion. He then followed the same course his friends had taken only moments before certain death would have found them. He tracked them fairly easily with the subtle markers Spade had left for him during their flight. The skilled young thief was crafty; the marks would have been unnoticeable had the duo not been the closest of friends.
Barden’s mind raced with the thoughts of who this beautiful young girl they were escorting could be. They had known from the beginning that she was something extraordinary but a princess? And what did the soldier mean about the prince tampering with the weapons? It was a lot for Barden’s tired mind to absorb.
*****
Now that i'm caught up with the action in the SG, i'll divide the posts a little better. XD
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Vikas Muralidharan
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| Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 8:05 pm Post subject: |
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This one is wayy beter 
In the SG, I felt Barden did nothing by hiding in the bushes. The only thing that came of it was that he found out she was a princess. Over here, however, Barden staying back actually has a "use". Go ahead. The story is brilliant
_________________
Vikas Muralidharan
Be sure to read HATE in Romance section
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Andolyn
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| Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 8:17 pm Post subject: |
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| hahaha!! now you see why it absolutely PAINED me to write it the other way. haha!!
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Andolyn
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| Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2011 10:28 pm Post subject: Chapter 2 pt 2 |
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From out of the cool mist Barden heard a low whistle that was Spade’s signal. He answered in like fashion. A thin form slowly made its way out from behind a tree.
“What happened back there?” Spade questioned, “They hurt you,” he added, noting the blood running down Barden’s shirt.
“It looks worse than it is. We have bigger issues though,” he looked meaningfully at Spade.
“Barden, what is it?” Spade caught the gravity his friend was trying to convey.
“It’s Moya. They want her dead…and you too for helping her…”
“Well we guessed that from them trying to run her through this morning didn’t we?”
“There’s more, but I’ll tell you when we get back to her. She hasn’t been alone this whole time has she?” Barden sat back up in the saddle trying to penetrate the
darkness to catch a glimpse of the girl.
“She’s not too far,” Spade assured him, “There’s a small clearing just up ahead.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Since building a fire was out of the question on this most bright of nights, Andolyn had gathered some nuts and berries from the surrounding area. While waiting for Spade to find Barden, she had also busied herself with setting the tents for her brave comrades. She might be a princess, but she hadn’t always been one. When she heard them coming through the trees, she stood and wiped her hands.
“I got us some food,” she said brightly, “it isn’t much, but it will give us some…” She stopped and gasped, running forward. Barden got off his horse and stood next to it. “Barden, you’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing really,” he smiled at her to ease her fears. “Just a poke.”
Andolyn turned and began to walk back to the tents with her head bowed. “It’s time I tell you both something,” she began.
“Is it?” Barden asked quietly while tying his horse to a tree, “Princess?” Spade looked up suddenly at Andolyn wide eyed, waiting to see the girl’s reaction. Andolyn stood perfectly still, but began trembling from head to toe. “The Captain said they were looking for a princess and her companion, and since Spade here doesn’t really look like the Princess type...”
Andolyn turned slowly and looked at Barden as though he’d just mortally wounded her. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but all words had been choked from her lungs. In the moonlight, the tears that began streaming down the sides of her face shown as rivers of silver.
“Moya…I—” Barden stepped toward her, instantly regretting his forcefulness.
“My name is Andolyn,” the princess whispered with her fists clenched and her eyes shut tight. She then stood tall, still with her fists clenched and threw back her head. The tears that dripped from her elevated chin glittered softly in the moonlight. “I was chosen to be the next queen of Ardara.” Barden and Spade fell to their knees while they looked on their “Princess” as the true sovereign that she was, but Andolyn was mortified by their gesture of respect.
“No no no!” she cried, rushing forward. She first took Barden’s, then Spade’s hands and pulled them to their feet. They looked at each other then faced
Andolyn. “Please…” she held up a trembling hand and bowed her head. “As I said, I was chosen to be married to the Prince. At first it was a dream come true; Prince Radan was the loving, romantic man that every girl dreams of marrying. My family was thrilled that I would have a good life,” Andolyn made her way to the small sitting area she had made between the tents. When Spade and Barden had joined her, the reluctant princess continued.
“We were wrong though,” the hot tears pouring from those bright green eyes made the two men want to comfort her, but they weren’t sure exactly what to do for her. “The Prince didn’t love me at all. I was just his ticket to the throne, and otherwise I wasn’t good enough for him.”
“You were too good for him,” Barden corrected. Spade nodded his agreement and Andolyn offered a feeble laugh at their efforts. “That doesn’t seem to be much of a reason to hunt you down and kill you.”
“No,” Andolyn shook her head, “He’s hunting me because of what I know.” Her comrades looked at her with questions in their eyes. “I was exploring the castle one day as I often did, when I stumbled across the hall of records. I love history, and since I was going to rule the country one day, I saw no harm in doing a bit of research. What I found though would tear this country apart.” Now both men were leaning towards her in anticipation. “The Hallams are not the true rulers of Ardara. They took power years ago, and killed anyone who dared to protest, so now no one speaks of it. It’s a scandal that reaches from the smallest cottage to the very roots of the Monarchy, and only the oldest of the old know who the true rulers were. The Hallams killed them all and anyone who was loyal to them.”
Spade, uncomfortably familiar with the story remained in thoughtful silence, but Barden was sure his brain must be leaking out of his ears by now from the massive explosion that was consuming every idea he had ever thought about his homeland. “Wait—so if the Hallams are not the true royal family…who is?”
Andolyn sighed in frustration, “And now we come to the most difficult part. You see, Radan’s little henchmen told him where I had been for so long and he got suspicious. He caught me before I had a chance to see that part. Fortunately, with the help of my best friends Roselyn and Ebony and a few of the servants who were more loyal to me than to him I managed to escape. I’ve been on the run for over a year now, and I think it’s time I stopped.”
“What do you mean to do?” Barden eyed her with concern.
The princess stood, pacing slowly around in a circle. “I mean to find a way back to Darbinshire, infiltrate the castle, break into the hall of records, see who the true rulers are, and hopefully escape with some good information…and my life…”
“Well then,” Spade stood to his feet as well, “we’d better get some rest. It’s a long way to Darbinshire.”
Andolyn looked at him in horror. “NO! I couldn’t possibly ask that of you! You’ve done so much for me already.”
To end her protests, Barden grabbed her into another bear hug. “We went over this already, Princess. You’re ours now, and that means we keep you safe.”
Andolyn buried her face in Barden’s warm shoulder, enjoying the embrace.
“Besides!” Spade laughed, “My face is plastered right alongside yours on every wanted poster from here to Handunburg! And for his performance this evening, I’m certain Barden’s will soon join us.”
“Then Darbinshire it is!” Andolyn laughed too in disbelief. “We can go through Bridlestrom. It’s the shortest distance between the here and there.”
“You know, I have an old friend there in Darbinshire,” Spade pondered as he prepared for a restful evening. “A blacksmith...He’s the one who dreamed up my friends here,” he said, fondly flipping a few of his cards over in his hands.
Andolyn nodded then went to Barden who was gingerly removing his shirt. “Let me see that,” she ordered. The princess frowned as she ran her elegant fingers over the still bleeding wound on the musician’s chest. “Stay right here.” With that, she disappeared into the woods behind them only to reemerge moments later with several strange looking leaves clutched in her hand. She knelt before Barden and crushed the leaves between her palms. “This is an old trick a good friend of mine in Bridlestrom taught me. It might sting a little bit.”
After wiping away the blood from his well defined chest, Andolyn gently rubbed the ointment from the leaves over the wound, and Barden winced. Andolyn ripped a piece of cloth from her cloak and wrapped it around his upper torso.
“There. That should do,” Andolyn smiled up at Barden.
“Alright kiddos,” Spade’s smooth voice came from behind them. “I’m taking first watch,” he looked at the two on the ground like a parent addresses disobedient children when they tried to argue. “You are hurt,” he pointed to Barden, “and you, little Miss, are royalty, so you’ll take my tent.”
Andolyn glared at him then laughed when he glared right back. Barden didn’t offer much complaint, but instead he obediently entered his tent and was fast asleep within minutes. Andolyn, on the other hand, lingered outside with Spade.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” She stood next to him and joined him in staring up at the starry sky. “I hate to be inconvenient…”
“Yes, Princess,” he took her thin shoulders in his hands, looking directly into her eyes. “I will be just fine,” he promised, “Look what a beautiful roof I’ll have to sleep under tonight!”
Andolyn wrapped her arms around Spade, and he gladly returned the gesture. She then turned and quickly kissed his cheek.
“What was that for?” Spade asked, taken slightly off guard.
“That was for being one of the best friends I have in this world,” Andolyn replied before giving him one more small squeeze and turning to go to his tent. Just before she closed the flap she poked her head out and whispered, “Goodnight, Spade.”
“Sweet dreams, Princess,” came the whispered reply as Spade settled himself against a fallen log for the first watch.
Andolyn was overwhelmed by the events of the last day. It began with her running for her life as so many days had begun for her over the last year and a half, and it ended with her lying in a tent, being cared for by two of the most incredible men she could ever have dreamed to meet. She knew she didn’t deserve anything they had done for her, and that made her love them all the more. Two large tears of joy rolled off Andolyn’s face and onto the pillow as the princess drifted to sleep with the sounds of Barden’s soft snoring and Spade’s even softer humming serenading her into those sweet dreams she had thought were gone forever.
*****
there are going to be long chunks of story for awhile...i apologize for that, but not much differentiated from the original in the SG until we get to the current action. there is a scene in Bridlestrom that's quite different though, so watch for that. =) enjoy!
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| Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2011 10:43 pm Post subject: Chapter 3 pt 1: Scratch that...to Bridlestrom!! |
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“WHAT??” Prince Radan was furious. “You let her escape AGAIN?? And why? Because you believed a roaming bard??”
“Sir,” the man pleaded, “in truth we had no other leads to follow. We weren’t aware that he was in league with her.”
“You idiot,” The prince turned to the window, watching the midmorning sun climb steadily in the crimson sky, “half the bloody kingdom is in league with her.” It was true. Andolyn was dearly loved by all of her subjects. “Bring Roselyn to me,” he hissed, “if anyone in this blasted place knows where she’s headed, it’s that girl.”
Roselyn entered the room with her hands on her hips and a smug grin on her porcelain face. “What do you want?” she demanded impatiently, “If you’re wanting me to tell you about Andolyn, I haven’t heard from her in weeks, and I have no idea where she’s going or what she’s doing. Really, Radan, you need a hobby. You’re getting to be predictable.” Roselyn settled herself into the prince’s chair. “And what about your pet, Willand? Can’t he find her? He’s supposedly the assassin of assassins, yet one teenage girl is able to outwit him? Tisk tisk…”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that...And get out of my chair!!” Radan turned on her in a rage. “I’m the future king of Ardara, you know!”
Roselyn yawned, hiding the laugh that glittered in her chocolate eyes. “In case you’ve forgotten, Radan, your bride happens to be missing,” he turned, glaring at her, but she continued as if she didn’t notice, “And that means you are no longer in the running for king—your little brother is. Do you know what that makes me, Radan? That makes me your future Queen. So, yes, I may speak to you however I wish.” With that, Princess Roselyn stood, flipped her short golden curls in Radan’s direction and made her way to the door. “If you have nothing of interest to talk to me about, I will be going.”Radan strode towards her as if to start speaking, but before he could, Roselyn was out the door. “Good day, Radan!”
The furious prince stood, speechless and fuming, but utterly harmless. Roselyn glided down the corridor, leaving several servants who had been listening at the door giggling as they went about their business.
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Spade started awake as the sun crested the trees. Dangit, I fell asleep! He thought frantically as he looked sleepily around the camp. He was soon hit with the scent of meat cooking…and was that eggs? Upon trying to get up, Spade found that one of his thick blankets had been thrown over him. It was warm and comfortable, so he decided to stay put. Wait, since when had sleeping on a log been comfortable? Would you look at that? A pillow too? Now he was curious. Spade sat up and turned around. Andolyn was leaned over a roaring fire, busily flipping something in one of Barden’s frying pans. Upon hearing him stir, the princess turned with a bright smile.
“Morning!” she said happily. “Breakfast is almost ready. I was just about to wake Barden.”
“Barden’s awake,” the taller of the two men stretched as he came out of his tent.
“That glorious smell woke me.” He sat eagerly across from Andolyn, and in the now usual fashion, Spade sat next to her.
“I found a nest in the forest,” Andolyn’s smile couldn’t have been bigger, “And the rabbits are everywhere!”
“You went in the forest alone?” Barden scolded.
“Relax, I didn’t have to go far,” the princess’s mood would not be tainted.
The trio ate in silence aside from the frequent compliments from both of the hungry males in the party. When they’d finished, they sat watching the strange crimson clouds fill the sky.
“Hmm…” Spade frowned, “Strange weather.” Andolyn rolled her eyes.
“Eh, It’s only Rocas,” she sighed heavily. “He must be in one of his moods. When he gets upset, everything around him shifts to meet his mood.” She thought for a moment. “I’ll just bet he has a stomach ache again. Yeah, I can see it now…he’s shuffling into Roselyn’s room (he’s the only thing that can manipulate Roselyn) and he’s looking at her with those big, blue, puppy dog eyes, and she’s probably stroking his hair to make her ‘honey bunches’ feel better…”
It was at this point that the two young men listening, who Andolyn had actually forgotten for the moment, could no longer control their laughter.
“Honey Bunches??” Barden gasped.
“Never again will I be intimidated by that boy!!” Spade was in tears.
Andolyn laughed with them, and for the first time in a long time, she forgot why she was running in the first place. She didn’t remember the fear of what was pursuing her, and in that moment, it didn’t matter. She was just a teenage girl laughing alongside two of her best friends just like any normal teenage girl would be doing. That was just the thing though: Andolyn wasn’t just a normal teenage girl, and the dangers that followed her weren’t as simple as a whining boy and an annoying past, they were real and terrifying…but thanks to two young men and the comfort and protection they provided her, in that moment—for Andolyn Grace—that’s all her nightmares were: Petty annoyances.
“So Spade,” Barden looked to his long time friend. “That was an awfully long first shift.” Spade’s sheepish grin sent the message clearly. He never intended for there to be a second shift. Andolyn laughed then sighed, leaning her head back on the log.
“I’m just going to bet you were the one to donate the pillow and blankets, “Spade shoved her lightly. Andolyn nodded proudly.
The three lay lazily in the grass for a few moments before Andolyn remembered.
“Barden, let me change your bandages.”
“I’m pretty sure there isn’t much to change,” he said, pulling at the knot in the cloth. “I’m a quick healer, and whatever it was you put on there worked wonders.” While Spade busied himself with packing, Andolyn filled a pot with water from a nearby stream and heated it over the fire. She unwrapped the binding she had made and examined the wound. Barden was right. Only a short red mark remained where the open wound had been the night before. Never the less, Andolyn cleaned it and reapplied a dressing.
When the girl had finished her “fussing over him” as he referred to it, Barden gently grabbed Andolyn’s left hand. He frowned; the cloth they had placed over the cut only last night was completely soaked in blood—fresh blood. Andolyn smiled nervously.
“Must be an infection,” she offered quietly.
Barden pulled away the bandages carefully. His frown deepened. Andolyn wanted to reach up and smooth the deep creases that hovered over those bottomless blue eyes. Barden continued to turn the girl’s hand back and forth. This caught Spade’s attention.
“What’s wrong?” he looked over Andolyn’s shoulder.
“I’m not sure,” Barden admitted. The captain’s words rang in his thoughts. You’d better be glad His Majesty didn’t tamper with the weapons this evening…
“I’m fine, really,” Andolyn pulled her hand back and walked toward the forest. Spade drew in a breath and held it while he and Barden exchanged meaningful glances. He released the air in the form of a sigh then continued with the tents. Andolyn returned through the trees. She threw some herbs into the heated water and stirred the mixture. After pulling it off the fire and letting it cool for a moment, she dipped her injured hand into the water. She frowned, inhaling quickly as the water stung the wound. “It doesn’t hurt all that bad…” she commented to the onlookers. Andolyn struggled to tie the new piece of cloth around her hand while a fresh round of blood began quickly pouring from the cut.
“Here,” Spade dropped the blanket he was folding and took her hand and the cloth.
“I don’t like this, Princess,” Barden continued to frown while his graceful friend tied a small knot atop Andolyn’s slender hand. The girl went and crouched in front of Barden so they were at eye level from where he sat. She peered directly into his sapphire eyes with her emerald ones when she spoke.
“I am fine, Barden.” Her smile convinced him more than her words, though he still wasn’t completely sure he was ready to concede the argument. “Come on. Let’s help Spade get packed up.”
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Within the hour, Spade, Barden, and Andolyn were off again. This time the journey would be shorter, however, the destination was far more perilous. From the well hidden clearing in which our heroes took refuge, Bridlestrom was a distance that on horseback would take an afternoon unless one was in a particular hurry, and traveling to Darbinshire would take a little over an hour from Bridlestrom. Our trio, however, was not in any particular hurry, and they would arrive in Bridlestrom late in the evening. The journey was relatively uneventful and was filled with Barden’s lively singing and Spade’s magic tricks that made Andolyn giggle like a child.
As the sun began sinking low in the evening sky, the peculiarly red clouds released buckets of chilling rain on the unsuspecting travelers. Andolyn’s & Spade’s matching golden hair turned the ebony color of Barden’s as they now had a reason for that particular hurry. Andolyn raised her hands and laughed aloud as the rain splashed with a thousand tiny kisses on her upturned cheeks. Barden and Spade couldn’t help the smiles that reflected from their warmed hearts as they observed the princess’s pure and seemingly inextinguishable joy.
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The streets of Bridlestrom were a soggy mess. The rain had beaten them there, and it seemed that it planned on staying for awhile. Bridlestrom was a seafaring town that had been the main centre of trade in Ardara for centuries. Rain was a common occurrence, which explained the ruts in the washed out roadways. Since Andolyn was most familiar with the small town, she led the way through the rows of cottage like buildings. At the end of one of the longer streets was a dirt road that led away from what would be the busier area and into a lightly wooded set of houses. Warm, cozy lights poured from the windows. As the soaked trio rode closer, a door opened and the figure of a tall man stood bathed in light.
“Good evening, Kayne!” Andolyn called cheerily through her chattering teeth.
“Andy??” the young man called back, now running forward. He helped the girl down from her mount then whistled for the stable boy as Barden and Spade dismounted and stood next to Andolyn uncertainly. “What in Heaven’s name are you doing here?” he took the girl by the shoulders and motioned to her friends. “Come inside before you catch pneumonia!”
“Who’s that, Kayne?” called a female voice. The tall man hurried off into what appeared to be the kitchen while Andolyn, Barden, and Spade stood dripping in the hallway. The smell of chicken and pumpkin pie made the boys’ stomachs rumble. Andolyn giggled.
“That’s Kayne; he’s my oldest cousin,” She smiled brightly. “You’re about to meet my family!” About that time, a thin, older woman with glasses came around the corner with Kayne on her heels.
“What are you doing here??” She fretted, “Don’t you know that wicked prince has every soldier in his army looking for you?”
“And why would he look for me here?” Andolyn countered, “Why would I hide in such an obvious location?” Just then, Spade shivered violently.
“Oh, dear,” the woman took his arm and dragged him into a large den, forgetting the almost argument she was having with her niece. She placed Spade in front of a roaring fire. Barden and Andolyn happily joined him. “Now then, you dears need anything, you just let ol’ Sissy know.” She smiled warmly then embraced Andolyn. “I am glad you’ve come home.” She wiped the tears from her eyes as she hurried out of the room back to the kitchen. Just then, another, more boisterous voice came down the hallway.
“When’s supper gonna be ready? I’ve got two hungry girls in here about to eat your pillows!!” Andolyn flashed her pearly teeth when she recognized the voice.
“It’s my cousin, Ciara,” she explained.
Barden and Spade glanced at each other, not knowing what to expect next. A sturdily built woman, merely a few years older than the princess rounded the corner and entered the den. She, like Andolyn was blonde though her hair was pulled back in an attractive style that suited her well. She couldn’t be considered small, but the young men perceived her to be very beautiful. She emanated an aura of fun and independence, and it was this quality that Barden found to be particularly attractive about her. “Well, hello there! What a surprise!!” she said when she spotted Andolyn. “When did you get here?”
Andolyn’s eyes glittered excitedly, “We got here a few minutes ago.” She ran forward and wrapped her arms around the woman.
“Wait,” Andolyn’s cousin eyed her suspiciously, “we?” It was then that she spied the two damp young men by the fire. “Well…hello there…” she winked at Andolyn who laughed aloud.
“These are my friends, Barden and Spade,” Andolyn went and stood next to them. Before the two could greet Ciara, another, much taller woman entered the room. She was thinner and had the same strikingly blonde hair as Ciara though hers had a much shorter cut to it. She too had a stunning beauty about her that seemed to Barden and Spade to be a pattern among the women of this household.
Squirming in the new woman’s arms was a small, dark haired, completely naked girl. The tall woman released the nude child who squealed with excitement as she ran around the room.
“That, I believe, belongs to you. I have to run catch mine before they burn the place down,” the newcomer pointed at the child before turning and exiting as quickly as she came.
“That’s my sister, Leane,” Ciara explained. “And this,” she grabbed the child as she made a pass around that side of the room, “is my daughter, Myra. She isn’t a fan of clothing.” Andolyn’s grin remained as big as her companions had ever seen. Ciara motioned to the couches beside them, “make yourselves comfortable, we’ll get you set up with some food and a warm bed here shortly.” Without another word, she, too, disappeared from the room leaving Barden, Andolyn, and Spade alone once more in the first moment of calm since they had entered the little house.
“Welcome to my family!” Andolyn shrugged sheepishly. Spade reclined on one of the couches with a satisfied smirk. Barden sat by the princess and began to play a relaxing tune on a guitar he found leaning on the wall. He also wore a happy smile that told Andolyn everything was perfect. Even the chaos they could hear coming from the kitchen just seemed to fit and add another bright touch to the place, but Andolyn waited impatiently to show her friends the most special person in the house. This person was responsible for bringing all the others together, and it was this person who projected the love that very literally glowed through every hallway and room. That person was in the back bedroom, but as always was in the forefront of Andolyn’s mind. That person was her grandmother.
*****
the next scene is the one that's different, so pay attention!!
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Andolyn
Mayor's Ambassador
Joined: 18 Apr 2011
Topics: 20
Posts: 852
Location: sitting barefoot in a tree in the beautiful land of Ardara, writing my tales...
Items
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Strata-gems
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| Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2011 10:55 pm Post subject: Chapter 3 pt 2 |
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After eating until they were sure they would explode, Barden, Andolyn, and Spade sat staring at the fire. Andolyn stood and stretched.
“If you gentlemen will forgive me, I’m going to bathe. Make yourselves at home, and I will return shortly,” with that, she was gone.
Spade and Barden sat awkwardly on the couch. After Andolyn had been absent for a few moments, a burly little boy toddled into the room.
“Hey, little guy,” Barden held out his arms to the curly haired baby. Grinning, the boy was more than happy to take Barden up on his offer, though Barden was taken off guard by the child’s density. “Wow,” he marveled. Spade laughed.
From behind the couch, suddenly popped Ciara’s now fully clothed daughter. Without waiting for an invitation, the small girl climbed into Spade’s lap.
“I’m Myra,” the girl announced. “Who you?”
“Anthony Jenkins, Milady,” Spade took the child’s hand and kissed it lightly. “You may call me Spade.” Myra giggled. Just then, another girl, roughly Myra’s age, poked her head around the couch before quickly occupying Spade’s other knee. This girl’s hair was the same golden blonde of many of the family’s women. Spade repeated his introduction for the new girl.
“I Shaylee,” both girls covered their faces and giggled some more.
“Well, well, Spade,” teased Barden as he bounced the hefty toddler on his knee, “Looks like you’re quite the ladies’ man!”
“Don’t be jealous!” Spade said smugly as he hugged the small girls to his sides.
“That’s my brother,” Shaylee declared, pointing to the curly headed child squealing on Barden’s knee. Soon, another, dark headed boy was eyeing Barden’s free leg.
“That’s Jax,” Myra informed them.
“Well, come on then,” Barden pulled the new one onto his lap. He looked at Spade, “I hope there aren’t too many more of these; I’m out of knees.” Barden was grateful that this boy was much thinner than the other. Spade glanced up to see Andolyn, now holding another hefty baby boy as she leaned against the doorway. The girl now wore a soft, floor length dress made of cotton. She laughed at the scene that had unfolded in her absence.
“I see you’ve made some new friends,” Her brilliant smile matched the sparkle in her emerald eyes. She sat in a rocking chair across from the couch full of people.
The pre-toddler in her lap leaned on Andolyn’s chest as she hummed a soft lullaby.
During a pause in her song, Andolyn’s cousin Ciara poked her head around the corner.
“There’s someone who wants to see you,” she smiled at Andolyn. The girl stood gracefully and handed the child to her cousin before running down the hallway. Ciara planted herself in the rocker where the princess had been. “That’s a special girl in there,” she stated. “She’s come through a lot.”
Spade nodded; his smile turned to a soft frown.
“We guessed that,” Barden’s tone was melancholy.
“She actually fell in love with him, you know,” Ciara’s downcast eyes, were as clear as Andolyn’s, only honey brown; they spoke far louder than the woman’s words. “He was her ‘Prince Charming’, and she adored him…” she trailed off, staring into the fire. “At first, we all were so happy, but the more we watched him, the more obviously different they both became. He’s a playboy. Andy wants a family. She’s a dreamer, and he’s satisfied with the way things are.”
Becoming bored, one by one, the children toddled off to other parts of the house. Spade and Barden listened intently while Ciara continued. “We all knew he wasn’t good enough for her, but she was blinded. Some of the things she put up with—I would have been gone long before she gave up. She loved him though, and she remained beside him for a long time. I don’t know what happened; she won’t even tell me, but I know she has good reason for her secrets.” The two young men nodded. Their Princess was courageous—taking on this task alone rather than endangering her family. “She doesn’t show her pain much, and only to people she trusts when she does. She’s always been fragile, so she tries to be tough. Andy’s had it hard from the time she was little with her health…now this…I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear my going on…”
“No,” Barden encouraged her, “We’ve only been travelling with the princess for a couple of days; it’s nice to learn a thing or two about her.” Ciara smiled.
“She’s the baby of all of us cousins…” Ciara’s expression was distant, remembering some fond memory of the past. “She’s the only one of us that’s adopted; she was brought here when she was a baby, but she’s one of us. Always has been.”
“She didn’t tell us she was adopted,” Spade spoke up for the first time. “She just refers to you all as her family.”
“Well,” Ciara’s smile grew larger, “that’s what we are.”
At that moment, Andolyn appeared in the doorway, her eyes twinkled in the reflected light of the fire. “Come on, guys!” she beamed, “there’s someone I want you to meet.” Barden and Spade were on their feet immediately. They followed the girl to the end of the hallway where a small bedroom opened up to the left. Inside, there was of course a bed, and beside it in a rocking chair sat a woman of about seventy years of age. Her eyes were identical to Andolyn’s. If they had not just been told otherwise by Ciara, they would have thought the two to be directly related. The bright sparkle in those eyes mixed with the laugh that rang through the room washed over them with a wave of warmth and love. It was easy to see the profound influence this person had had on the young woman.
“Come in! Come in!” the aged woman laughed. “My little Andy speaks very highly of you two.”
Spade bowed low and Barden did the same, but the woman, like her granddaughter, would have none of that.
“Ah-Ah-Ah!” she scolded. “I’m Grandma to you two, and you don’t bow to a grandma; you hug her.” Both young men gladly did as they were told. Andolyn, beaming once again, had placed herself comfortably across from the woman on the large bed and motioned for her friends to do likewise.
When they were seated comfortably, and after Grandma gave each of them a piece of candy, she asked them about their journey. She listened intently as Andolyn (who did most of the talking) vividly described the trip so far. Her musical laugh would grace them every time something amused her. Grandma found Barden’s account of what happened with the guards and his singing to hold particular humor. Andolyn couldn’t help but elaborate the heroics of her friends ever so slightly, but Barden noticed that she conveniently left out the part about her hand. The truth was, Andolyn had forgotten it. In the warmth and happiness of being with her family again, the sting of the prince’s wound didn’t cross the girl’s mind. When she had finished, Grandma talked for awhile. Mostly she spoke about the great-grandbabies and their antics, but also about true love and her experiences as a young woman. It was these very talks that had shaped much of the way Andolyn perceived the world. Though they had been conversing for hours, it seemed to the travelers to have been but a short time. Then Grandma paused. She looked at Andolyn with a frown.
“Doll, what’s that on your knee?” the aged woman’s sparkle dimmed ever so slightly. Andolyn looked down. Blood from her hand had seeped through the bandages again though this time it was worse than before.
“I must have spilled something during dinner…excuse me…” Andolyn stood and quickly exited the room. Spade and Barden frowned at one another. Spade nodded then stood and followed the girl. Barden stayed with Grandma, and after an awkward pause, she continued talking. She told Barden several stories of the princess’s not-so-elegant life before the castle that made him laugh.
“…one time, when Andolyn was very small, her pajamas were dirty, so she was wearing one of her grandpa’s white shirts. For her, it was a dress. Well, there was a mirror hanging in the hallway. She could see herself, and in the sweetest little voice she said, ‘I am just a little angel, aren’t I?’” the old woman paused to laugh. “She wasn’t being proud; she was just saying what was true! Just…just sweet,” she smiled at Barden. He too couldn’t help but smile. He pictured a little girl with blonde curls twirling in front of a tall mirror, imagining little wings from her shoulder blades. “And that’s why she’s my little Angel.”
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Spade found Andolyn on the front porch. She was leaned protectively over her injured hand. As he came closer, to his horror, Spade could see the blood that Andolyn was attempting to catch in her good hand. When she heard him approaching, Andolyn looked up with tears in her eyes.
“It hurts,” she confessed, “and just when everything was going so well.” Spade felt like crying himself though he hid it well. He examined her hand quickly before grabbing a handkerchief to wrap it with. They needed to stop the bleeding.
“Is there a physician here?” he asked in a hushed tone.
“Yes,” her reply was barely audible. “Down at the port.” Spade looked out through the rain as if expecting to see someone coming to help.
“Alright,” he sighed, hiding his almost frantic thoughts from the already frightened girl. “Let’s go get Barden and you show us where this doctor is.” He put his arm around the girl and led her back through the house.
“Wait,” Andolyn went into a small room on the right of the hallway. Spade stood in the doorway watching her. This room had belonged to her. The walls were a light shade of sea foam blue with a beautiful seascape painted as a mural along one of them. Spade guessed correctly that it was the Princess’s handy work. He watched as the girl hurriedly shoved a few changes of clothing and some other small things into a bag. She then disappeared into a small side room for a moment before emerging in a plain cotton shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans. Her long hair was now tied in a mess of curls. Andolyn nodded to him then grabbed a long, heavy coat with a hood. The two made their way to the back bedroom.
“…and that’s why she’s my little angel,” Grandma was just finishing a story.
“I’m so sorry, Grandma, but we have to be going.” Andolyn pretended nothing was wrong.
“So late?” the aged woman looked concerned.
“I’m afraid so,” Andolyn continued.
“There’s someone we simply must see tonight,” Spade covered for her with the most charming smile he could muster.
While Andolyn embraced her grandmother, Spade motioned to Barden then held up the bloodstained cloth he had removed from the girl’s hand. Barden stood solemnly, and with quick goodbyes to the rest of the family and promises of returning soon, the trio headed back out into the chilling rain.
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Andolyn used the steadily falling rain to hide the tears that streamed down her cheeks. In order to diminish the worry of her friends, she spoke lightly as they rode through the soggy streets to the other side of town.
“That wasn’t all of them, you know,” she stared straight ahead, but kept her voice as cheery as she could. “I have six other cousins and three other aunts besides the ones you met tonight not to mention my uncles and second cousins…I’m the baby of the cousins…” her voice trailed off. Her efforts were met with little success as her companions continued to ride knowingly by her side, both staring back and forth through the midnight darkness as if they were body guards instead of friends.
From that point, they rode in silence. Andolyn began to feel lightheaded as blood poured from her wounded hand. Even with the handkerchief wrapped around it, the wound bled freely. The princess could no longer think well enough to lead them; taking the hint, Spade rode forward, steering them to as best as he could toward the docks. Andolyn blinked, trying to focus her eyes on her friend, but everything was becoming hazy. She hadn’t fully decided if that was because of the weather if it was just herself. The girl looked down again at her left hand.
“I’m sorry Spade, but I think I might have ruined your handkerchief…” the girl’s voice was slow and barely audible. Spade stopped and turned just in time to see Andolyn sliding from her saddle.
“Barden!!” he cried.
“I’ve got her!” Barden, who was riding beside the princess gently caught her and pulled the now unconscious girl onto his own horse. “Hurry!”
Spade grabbed the reins of Andolyn’s horse as they raced off into the night.
“This way!” Spade called, hearing the sound of waves crashing. When they reached the row of buildings across from the port, Barden dismounted his horse and carried Andolyn’s limp form as he tried to read the signs above the doors. Becoming desperate, Spade began to yell aloud.
“Help!! We need help!!” he ran frantically along the street, “We need a doctor!!”
Just then, a door opened, bathing the street below in amber light. The tall silhouette of a man stood peering into the night.
“Come in now,” he said calmly, “Stop making such a racket, lad. Come in and old Damien will see to what you need.”
*****
let me know what you all thought of the differences =)
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Andolyn
Mayor's Ambassador
Joined: 18 Apr 2011
Topics: 20
Posts: 852
Location: sitting barefoot in a tree in the beautiful land of Ardara, writing my tales...
Items
Legends
Fables
Strata-gems
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| Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2011 11:08 pm Post subject: Chapter 4: Of Healing, and Making Money |
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“Gawain, it’s absolutely perfect!” the prince was absolutely thrilled with himself, sitting down to dine. His guard stood beside him, listening in disgust and horror as his master droned on and on about his brilliance. “By now, she will have reached the bleeding phase. The wound will try to cleanse itself by getting rid of any liquid around it. For her, it will be painful and uncomfortable, but she will survive this portion of the illness. The next will be a period of latency during which, the wound will appear to heal. She might even forget she was hurt in the first place, foolish girl, but just when she thinks she will get over it, the most deadly phase will strike! Ah, Gawain, it’s sheer genius!”
“Is there an antidote?” the soldier ventured to ask.
“Oh of course there is!” the prince’s chuckle made Gawain uncomfortable. The arrogant prince patted his chest, revealing the antidote’s location, “but I’m the only one who possesses it, and that is part of the beauty! You see, her ignorant little friends can try all they want to protect her from my men, but I’ve gotten to her already! HAHA! She is dying inside and there is nothing they can do to save her!”
Gawain could take no more. He excused himself from the room and almost ran down the long corridor; all the way he could hear the prince’s sick laughter. It was up to him now. Gawain would have to find a way to steal that antidote and get it to the young men that protected the princess if she would live through the next few months.
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When Andolyn opened her eyes, she was laying in the softest bed she had been privileged with in a long time. She looked around and saw simple decorations—mostly scientific charts and one framed page from an ancient copy of the Bible—and piles of “organized clutter” that seemed oddly familiar to her, but it was when she looked down to her sides that Andolyn smiled softly. She ran her hand through Spade’s golden hair on her left and Barden’s thick ebony locks on her right.
“They’ve been there since they brought you in. It was hard to work with their constant hovering. They finally fell asleep about an hour ago.” Andolyn sat up to see the owner of the new voice, careful not to wake her sleeping guardians. “You were merely suffering from some slight blood loss from that nasty gash on your hand. A few stitches and some rest and here you are, good as new, but you try convincing those two of that...” A bearded, middle aged man sat in a recliner in the corner watching the girl intently.
“Dr. Damien!” Andolyn greeted her childhood physician and teacher.
“Hello, Andolyn,” them man reciprocated her salutation. “I would hug you, but I wouldn’t want to risk waking your guard dogs,” he smiled. Andolyn fondly stroked the young men’s hair.
“No,” she whispered, “let them rest. They deserve it.”
“Indeed, I was surprised last night to be awakened at such an uncouth hour by two young men screaming in the streets. My surprise only increased when one of them had you clutched in his arms; the dark headed one would barely let me get close enough to treat you.”
“They’ve gone through a lot these past couple of days to protect me,” Andolyn blushed faintly, “you must understand, they don’t trust many people without proof of loyalty.”
“Very understandable,” the man in the corner agreed, “and when you are the subject of their protection, I would see it as an admirable quality in them to be certain.” The doctor looked intently at the girl before speaking again. “You should rest some more; you look much better, but you’re still very pale. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen getting a cup of tea.” Andolyn nodded before lying back down and drifting back into a deep sleep.
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Later in the night, Barden and Spade shared a pot of coffee with Damien.
“She will be alright,” Spade’s voice was quiet and troubled, “right, Doctor?”
Damien opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a terrified scream from the back bedroom. Weapons in hand, Barden and Spade bounded down the hallway to where Andolyn’s screams continued to resound.
Barden busted through the door and ran straight to Andolyn. Spade scoured the room for intruders, looking inside and out the window to the streets outside. Andolyn was fast asleep. Her nightmares, however, had transferred to reality. Barden held her shoulders firmly even as she fought him.
“Andolyn!” He shook her gently. “Andolyn!!” The girl’s eyes flew open, filled with tears. “It’s alright, Andy, I’ve got you.” She threw her arms around Barden’s neck and began to sob openly; she was frantic.
“He was there!” she sobbed, “I could see him! He was sneaking up on you and Spade. There was nothing I could do,” Barden held Andolyn’s trembling form.
Spade looked on from where he leaned against the wall. Andolyn was strikingly pale. He couldn’t explain the sadness he felt as he watched his friend hold the princess. He didn’t have to guess who was haunting her nightmares. How could they have thought she felt nothing about the man that had haunted her in reality for so long? Well, that smile of hers made it easy for them to forget she ever felt anything but happiness. Spade guessed that sadness also held a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t taken care of Willand when he’d had the chance. In his mind, he had done this to her.
Soon, Andolyn had fallen asleep once again, and Barden laid her gently back on her pillow. Spade brushed his hand across her face before he and Barden made their way back to the table where Damien waited for them.
“I saw she was alright, and didn’t guess you needed my help,” the man sipped his coffee thoughtfully.
“She was having a nightmare,” Barden’s voice was downcast. Damien only nodded. “It was about a man we encountered when we first met, but she’s been dealing with him for much longer.”
“Willand,” Damien nodded with a scowl.
“She’s frightened of him…and with good reason.” Spade flopped down in his chair. “It’s going to be a long night.”
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When Andolyn woke again, sunlight poured through the open window that looked out over the harbor. The two young men were nowhere to be seen. She sat on the end of the bed for a moment watching the ships sail in and out. There was a soft knock at her door.
“Princess?” Barden’s warm voice was muffled through the heavy wooden door.
“Come in,” Andolyn said as she stretched, “I’m awake.” The door creaked open, and Barden entered quietly. After shutting the door he sat next to the princess.
“You worried us last night,” he didn’t mind admitting.
“I’m sorry,” Andolyn apologized.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he looked straight into her dulled, sunken eyes. The pale, sickly look of the princess’s face along with the dark orbs beneath her eyes created an image that made Barden shudder. “You look awful,” he said as he pulled her head gently to his chest in an awkward embrace.
Andolyn sighed; she could easily fall asleep this way. The princess felt a cool hand on her shoulder as Barden loosened his hold on her. She sat up to see Spade standing before her.
“Are you alright?” the hours of worry were evident in his soft voice. Andolyn leaned forward, and Spade wrapped his arms around her. He rested his cheek on the top of her head.
“Yes,” Andolyn answered. From where she continued to sit with her face on Spade’s shoulder, the princess reached over and took hold of Barden’s hand. “Thank you.”
“I’ve made pancakes if you boys are hungry,” Doctor Damien’s voice came from the open door. “It isn’t an option for you, Andy” he disappeared with a sly grin as the princess opened her mouth to protest. She sighed then stood reluctantly. Barden took hold of her elbow when she swayed.
“Still, a bit uneasy, I guess,” she sighed. With a smile, Spade took her other arm, and Andolyn’s loving heroes escorted her to breakfast.
When they entered the large kitchen, Dr. Aaron Damien was sitting comfortably at a long table with four steaming stacks of pancakes ready for himself and his guests. When they were seated and had appropriately thanked their host, Barden spoke to Andolyn.
“What’s on the agenda for today, Princess?”
“I think your ‘Princess’ might need one more day of resting before you continue with your plans,” it was Damien who answered. Spade, noting again Andolyn’s pale, fragile appearance had to agree with the doctor.
“We need to go buy some supplies,” the young thief suggested, “Andy could stay here with the doc while we take care of that…” he finished, looking to Damien for confirmation.
“Absolutely,” the bearded man’s smile was as warm as the newly risen sun on the rain soaked ground outside. Barden, though, was watching the princess. She sat staring blankly at her meal, the fork frozen in place in her delicate hand.
“Princess?” the young man reached across the table to take the girl’s hand. Andolyn started and looked at Barden as though he had woken her from a distant dream.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” her sweet voice was tiny in the vast silence as all three men watched her. Barden squeezed her hand.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Barden scolded without any conviction. “Eat a little more then I think you should go back to sleep for awhile.” The princess nodded before raising her fork again.
The rest of the meal was spent in silence. When Andolyn had finished about half of her pancakes, she stood, kissed each of them on the cheek, and excused herself from the room.
The three men watched her disappear into the little room at the end of the hallway.
“She isn’t well, is she, Doctor?” Spade wondered aloud.
“She lost a lot of blood last night, lad,” Damien answered, “it will take several days for her to regain her full composure, but Andolyn has always been a fighter. She will be fine.”
“Is there nothing we can do?” Barden stared down the empty corridor.
“Pray for her,” Damien’s wise eyes studied the young men, “Pray for her, and stand by her; see that she has everything she needs. That’s all you can do.”
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After the delicious breakfast, Barden and Spade went to explore Bridlestrom. They passed row after row of shops and restaurants. This was definitely one of the main areas of commerce in Ardara. The young men knew they needed supplies, but they also knew they had no funds with which to pay for such supplies. Whenever before they had been in this predicament the young men had relied heavily on their talents: Barden’s musical abilities and Spade’s...abilities.
The two began by finding an open area where several people were milling around. Barden began to play a lively tune on his guitar and loudly welcomed any bystanders while Spade pulled out a deck of real cards. As was typical of one of the duo’s street shows, Spade was the initial act. After rolling his sleeves to the elbow, revealing a small tattoo just below the bend, he amused the increasingly large crowd with his card tricks: predicting people’s cards, flipping them in seemingly impossible ways through his nimble fingers, causing them to “disappear” only to turn up in the oddest places.
At one point, when a young man’s card was no longer in the pile Spade had just taken from the boy, he offered an explanation.
“You see,” he said coolly, “as I held the pile here in my hand, your card jumped up to my sleeve,” he traced the path as he spoke, “across the herculean pectorals, down my other arm, and into my pocket.” With that, he reached in said pocket and withdrew the missing card.
Coins flew from all directions, filling the small bag sitting at Barden’s feet. At the end of it all, Spade stunned them all by raising his hand and disappearing in a cloud of smoke.
Then it was Barden’s turn. As the astonished crowd recovered, he stood and began pacing through the crowd playing and singing familiar songs. While his clear, masculine voice filled the area, a circle of girls stood off to the side giggling madly, swooning over both the beautiful sound and his ruggedly handsome appearance. Eventually, several people began to dance. Spade took advantage of the people’s distraction to reenter the scene and pickpocket several unsuspecting “impromptu-party-goers,” filling the purse even more. The two young men complimented each other beautifully: Barden, with his captivating warmth and outgoing personality, Spade with his hypnotic elegance and subtle stealth. Together, they could accomplish anything--especially if “anything” involved monetary gain…
Just then, the crowd turned. The sounds of screaming filled the pavilion as a frantic group ran into the crowd.
“Radan’s men!!” one man gasped as he was questioned by the eager villagers. “They’re raiding the Port District!”
“What do they want??” asked a frightened woman.
The Port District? The meaning struck Barden and Spade at the same time. They looked at each other in horror. Andolyn. Someone must have informed the Prince of their arrival in Bridlestrom. Silently the two men stole out of sight then broke into a full run toward the doctor’s sea-front home.
When they reached the docks, more screaming could be heard. Spade listened, praying he wouldn’t hear the princess’s clear voice. They stood with their backs to the wall just around the corner from the port side of the row of buildings. Barden ventured to poke his head around the corner. He pulled back quickly with a frustrated sigh.
“There’s no way we’ll make it to Damien’s house without being seen, but the raiders are only a few doors down…”
“We have to try,” Spade stated through gritted teeth. His heart felt as though it would pound out of his chest. “We’ve come too far to let her down now.” Barden nodded, and the two prepared to run head-on into danger.
“Pssst!” came a quiet hiss from behind them. The two turned to see Damien leaning his head around the back corner of the building. Relieved, Barden and Spade withdrew to the doctor’s position. “I heard them coming, so I got your things.” He motioned to the packed horses behind him. Andolyn leaned against the building. “You’ll have to help her.” He told them.
Spade ran to the princess and helped her onto his horse. The sounds of wood and metal crashing and people shouting drew closer and closer. Spade and Barden mounted their horses—Spade behind Andolyn—, and Barden grabbed the reigns of Andolyn’s young stallion.
“I’d better go play my part for them,” Damien looked less worried than he was. Andolyn reached out a trembling hand to him. When he came close enough, she leaned down and kissed his aged cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered before raising herself back up in the saddle.
“Protect her,” Damien said to the young men. It was a stern order, but one with which Barden and Spade were more than willing to comply.Spade answered with a curt nod before steering his horse away from the sounds of chaos. “Head for the river!” Damien called behind them.
The river was in the opposite direction from Darbinshire, but it doubled back to the city after a large round-about. Following in the water would throw the pursuers off their trail.
Spade wasn’t sure whether Barden was still behind him or not, but he wasn’t willing to use the little time he had in order to look. Bridlestrom offered little cover from unwanted eyes, and Spade knew that Radan’s spies would be taking careful note of their route. He had to get her as far away as possible before the enemy realized they were gone. He only prayed they hadn’t noticed the exchange with Damien moments before…
When they came to the river, Spade slowed, allowing Barden to catch up. Silently, Barden took his and Andolyn’s horses into the water while Spade scanned the road behind them, half expecting to see soldiers with swords clashing. He turned and followed Barden into the churning water.
The water was cold and high. Autumn’s chill had already reached the river’s headwater in the mountains. Andolyn shivered as the cold went straight through the legs of her pants. Spade hugged her tighter and steered the horse into the shallow water near the river’s bank. The two young men pulled the horses under a large overhang when they heard the soldiers crossing the bridge a mere quarter mile behind them. Then, with a sigh of relief, they carried on with their new route. They had escaped Radan’s clutches…this time.
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Andolyn
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| Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2011 11:18 pm Post subject: Chpter 5 pt 1: The Blacksmith & Ebony's Enchantical Empo |
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Ebony brushed her best friend’s horse thoughtfully. She knew Andolyn wouldn’t be coming back here…at least not to live, but just in case she did, the stable girl had the princess’s horse ready for her.
Nothing in this castle had been the same since the young woman left. The colors weren’t quite as vibrant as they once had been, few people smiled, and when they did, it was usually because of something Princess Roselyn had done, and the only flowers the gardeners could coax into blooming were the current crown princess’s roses.
“Have you heard any more from her?” Ebony asked her unannounced guest. Princess Roselyn stepped into the stall of the horse. Ebony almost laughed; the princess’s pink ball gown was hardly appropriate for this particular setting.
“No,” Roselyn shook her head, not noticing the incongruence about her surroundings. “The last news I heard from her was that she was leaving the McGintys’ house. She didn’t say where she was heading…of course.”
“It’s unusual for her not to report in for this long,” Ebony frowned.
“This is the only hint I’ve gotten,” Roselyn held up a reward poster with their best friend’s face on it. Ebony was intrigued; this poster was different from the ones that had been circulating for the last year. Next to Andolyn’s soft smile, one on either side, were two young men. One had hair as golden as Andolyn’s, and the other man’s matched Ebony’s name.
“Well, well,” Ebony raised an eyebrow. “Looks like Andy’s been holding out on us.” She laughed.
“Yes,” Roselyn giggled, “and Radan is determined to have their heads for helping her.”
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“Again with the headaches!” Spade tried to pop his neck.
“Yeah, me too” Barden mimicked his action. “Weird.”
Three hours had passed since their narrow escape from Bridlestrom. Following the original route, the journey would have taken merely an hour, but with the recent change in plans, Barden expected that they would arrive in Darbinshire shortly after sunset.
Spade looked down; Andolyn had fallen sound asleep reclined on his lean chest. Cradled in his arms, her head rested on his shoulder with her peaceful face turned up to the afternoon sky. She was still very pale, and looked as though a strong breeze would break her in half, but Spade knew that beneath that frail body lay a heart with the strength to lead the people in revolution, and save Ardara. Darbinshire couldn’t be further from where the young thief wished to be, but if that was where his princess needed to go, he would be right beside her; Andolyn was strong, but she wasn’t ready to take on this task alone…not yet anyway. Spade’s thoughts were interrupted by Barden’s voice.
“Where will we go, Spade?” he wondered. “Radan’s spies are everywhere. We won’t be able to stay anywhere within the public’s attention.”
“We’ll go to Kellan,” Spade kept his voice soft and even to avoid disturbing Andolyn. “He’s the town blacksmith and a very good friend of mine. He’s very private with important matters and has little love for the government.”
Barden nodded, but was silent. This was becoming far more complicated than he particularly enjoyed. Within a mere two and a half days, they had gone from unnoticed annoyances in various towns to being on the top of the prince’s most wanted list. Along with that, a girl they barely knew had stolen both men’s hearts, and they now loved her as dearly as a sister. To top it all off, upon the request of this girl, they were travelling straight into the heart of the hornets’ nest. Barden couldn’t be sure of the outcome of this venture, and that unsettled him most of all. Would they be captured? Would they even find what they were looking for, or would this entire struggle be for nothing? Would they escape with their lives, or would he be forced to watch his Princess or his best friend die? Barden didn’t know the answer to those questions, but he was certain of one thing: no matter what happened, the success of this mission would mean the salvation of his homeland, and that meant that he would do whatever it took to stand and fight alongside Andolyn.
She really could be an angel…Barden thought, smiling at the image of the fragile young woman sleeping peacefully in his friend’s arms.
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The river ran directly into the city of Darbinshire. Keeping the horses quiet wasn’t an issue here. Unlike the quiet Bridlestrom, even at this late hour, Darbinshire was in full glory. Since the river kept to the quieter outskirts of the city for the majority of its course and because it was dark the trio could easily go unnoticed by staying with the cold water.
Spade took the lead with the now conscious Andolyn on her own horse between Barden and himself. They drew beneath a bridge when a loud group of drunks passed overhead.
“Kellan lives right next to the river, so this should be relatively easy,” Spade whispered when the group was gone. “It isn’t too much further.” With that, he quietly led his horse forward in the water. Andolyn followed, her emerald eyes scanning the darkness around them for any hints of approaching danger. Barden stayed close behind the princess with his strong hand resting warily on his broad sword.
Just up ahead was a small house with smoke rising out of a tall chimney. A warm glow dimly lit the cobblestone in front of the building where a tall, thin figure paced back and forth in the shadows. Spade reached for his belt, pulling out the Ace of Spades. Andolyn waited for the anxious man to fall dead, but instead the card landed harmlessly in street before him with a shower of sparks as the metal hit the flint-like stones.
The figure bent down, picked up the card, he then began running toward the river where the trio stood hidden. All they could see was the tall silhouette as he peered into the darkness.
“Spade?” he called softly, still not seeing them standing in the water. “Spade, where are you?” Spade rode forward silently up the bank and out of the water. He dismounted and shook the man’s hand before motioning for the other two to follow.
Barden was a little more than suspicious, staying as close to the princess as possible without crushing her leg and keeping his hand firmly on the sword. Andolyn found something truly intriguing about this new man. She rode forward on Spade’s request with little hesitation.
Without waiting for them, the man turned, took Spade’s horse and began walking to the back of his home. The others followed silently. Barden brought up the rear, still right on Andolyn’s heels. Spade flipped a card in his hand.
Once the horses were settled and the group was inside the house, they were able to relax. Spade, without hesitation, found his way to a soft armchair by the fire. Barden wandered around the large, dimly lit room with his hand, now merely resting, on his sword hilt before landing on a sofa in the far corner. The tall man sat in a chair across from Spade. Andolyn was not yet comfortable here; she found her way to a corner by the front door.
In the firelight, Andolyn could clearly see the young man’s features. His long legs stretched far out in front of his chair. He was thin, to say the least, but deceptively so. Faint lines in his shirt showed the defined muscles that clung to his slender form. In the dim lighting, the man’s sharp, chiseled facial features were accented by his mustache and neatly clipped goatee; he appeared to be a few years older than the others. The contrasts in his hair color made Andolyn want to giggle; the close cut style on top of his head was a sandy brown, but the hair on his strong face was as orange as the fire. “Kellan,” Spade called him. Andolyn liked that name; it suited him.
Even as she watched him, Kellan listened to Spade explain their plight, some of which he already knew. A member of the Underground had been positioned in Bridlestrom and had sent a hawk to the young man shortly after the trio had fled, which explained why he was waiting for them. Kellan’s grey-blue eyes lingered on the roaring fire as he listened.
Just then, Spade made a motion toward where Andolyn stood in the corner. He turned, flashing that charming grin of his.
“And this is our princess,” he said proudly. The shy girl in the corner shrank as much as she could while Kellan’s face softened into the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.
“Hello,” was all the young man said. He could sense her discomfort at being made the center of attention. Andolyn lifted her right hand awkwardly in a pitiful attempt at a wave. With the warm smile still in place, Kellan turned his attention back to Spade as the thief tried to plan their next move.
“The problem will be getting past all the guards…” Kellan and Spade tossed ideas back and forth. After several moments of no-that-will-never-work’s and how-about-this’s, Barden decided to join the brainstorm. Andolyn knew precisely how they would enter the castle, but the trepid princess was far too enthralled with her new surroundings to pay attention to the conversation at hand.
The walls of Kellan’s mostly wooden home were adorned with the tools of his trade. Several small works in progress lay on a large work table in the corner. The fireplace was absolutely stunning with strips of all kinds of metal glistening in intricate patterns between the glassy stones. Mounted on the mantle above the fire was a large crossbow. Obviously this man had no love for the monarchy who frowned deeply on the very idea of citizens owning such weaponry. Andolyn liked that.
Kellan couldn’t help but glance at the princess from time to time. Her quiet demeanor mixed with the subtle curiosity and playful light in her eyes made for a captivating personality. Though Kellan tried to conceal his observations, nothing escaped Spade’s watchful eye. He gave the blacksmith a “busted” look with a sly smile attached.
“What?” Kellan’s face reddened slightly. Spade shook his head with the same smile playing on his elegant lips. Barden, missing the whole exchange, continued with the debate.
“If we split up, we could knock out different groups of guards and get more of them at once…”
Andolyn, still examining the different decorations on the walls, finally caught the point of the conversation and spoke.
“You are all making this far too difficult,” she said without looking at them. “I’ve already taken care of our passage in and out of the castle.” All three men stared at her now. She turned, feeling their astonished gazes. Her innocent expression was riddled with mischief. “Just because I’m a princess doesn’t mean I’m always a damsel in distress. I’ve got my useful moments too.”
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| Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2011 11:25 pm Post subject: Chapter 5 pt 2 |
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Through the misty dawn of the following day, three cloaked travelers trudged in the dim streets of Darbinshire. The leader kept to the shadows on the furthest outskirts of the city. On and on they went, relatively unnoticed except by the myriads of alley cats that haunted these dingy pathways. Upon reaching the furthest edge of what was considered the city limits, the small group paused only briefly to assure the lack of unwanted attention. After such precautions were taken, Andolyn—her pale cheeks rosy in the crisp morning chill—slid as silently as the mist around their feet into the dark forest before them, followed closely by her ever faithful companions.
As Spade and Barden followed Andolyn deeper and deeper into the trees, it seemed as though the princess was selecting random directions to follow, and they wondered if she had any idea where they were heading at all. Andolyn was weary, having remained awake the entirety of the previous night, but she wasn’t that tired. What the young men had yet to notice was the slight color variation in the undergrowth beneath their booted feet. Andolyn was, in fact, following a path, but as with most hidden pathways, this one was only to be taken by those who knew the destination. This trail’s creator was one skilled in chemistry; an art form that was little explored in those times. Many even viewed this practice as a form of magic or sorcery. Andolyn stuck to the trail’s ever changing direction by watching for the lighter, slightly golden hue that surrounded the edges of the small forest plants.
After about half an hour of hiking, the three travelers broke into a small clearing. In the center of the large circle of trees was a little hut with green smoke pouring out of a small chimney. A large sign stood out in elegant silver letters above the round doorway.
“Ebony’s Enchantical Emporium…” Spade read aloud. He then looked at Andolyn with an eyebrow raised. “Enchantical??” The princess only shrugged as she stepped forward.
She knocked on the circular entrance. After a few moments had passed, a tiny opening at the top of the door was unbolted. After it had slammed shut, to the young men’s surprise, instead of swinging open, the round door rolled to the side revealing a small, thin girl with hair as dark as Barden’s. At the same time, the two young women practically jumped forward to embrace one another.
“Where have you been??” the dark haired girl demanded. She eyed Barden and Spade, “and why’ve you been holding out on me? …Heeeeyy…” she smiled flirtatiously at the now red-faced young men. Andolyn only laughed and entered the cylinder shaped hallway, motioning for her companions to follow.
The group wound through seemingly endless hallways; the outward appearance of the little shack far belied the miles of space it actually held. Andolyn and the dark haired girl paced forward with looks of determination. The boys, on the other hand, ambled slightly behind, marveling at the thousands of nameless trinkets that lined the walls and ceiling in a hodgepodge of disarray. Spade’s attention was drawn specifically to those with sharp edges, while Barden was more fascinated with a larger group that was spastically spitting fire in all directions.
After almost half an hour of wandering, the group entered a larger hall. This one was nothing like the maze of whatchamacallits and whosiwhatsits they had just passed through; instead, lined along the walls in precise rows with specific numbers on each and every shelf was the most countless and beautiful selection of arrows any of them had ever seen before. Every color and size arrow imaginable from obnoxiously bright green to elegant silver could be found in this one enormous room.
About three fourths of the way across the expanse of the area, the dark haired girl took a sharp right turn and headed directly to a door; in the vast hall, the door seemed awkward, being only tall enough to reach Spade’s waist. By the time Barden ducked through the tiny doorway, Andolyn and the dark haired girl were leaning over a small trap door concealed in a corner while Spade wandered silently around what appeared to be a small library with the look of an appraiser.
“Are you ready?” the girl’s expression was one of half worry and half mischief as she questioned Andolyn. Barden was confused.
“Wait,” he started, “who are you, and what are we ready for??” Andolyn had only told her friends what they needed to know to get them to Ebony’s little shop. Even though the two young men had already helped her enough to end their lives if they were caught, in Andolyn’s mind, secrecy kept her friends at least a little bit safer.
The princess suddenly remembered that she hadn’t introduced her old friend to her new ones.
“Barden, Spade, this is Ebony. She’s been one of my best friends since we were little girls.”
Ebony chimed in here, “and as for what you’re ready for, this passageway leads directly into the lower level of the castle. Once we’re inside, Roselyn will help cover for us until you find what you need.” She paused and thought for a moment. “On second thought, it might be better for us to wait for nightfall…better cover.”
Finally, Spade spoke.
“Great!! I’m starving!” at this, everyone turned and looked at the young thief who was reclining on a sofa with his nose buried in a copy of Castle Wall Art and other Mischief.
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Not only was Ebony a master arrow smith, she could cook a mean batch of chili. After Andolyn was full and the young men had emptied the rest of the giant pot, the dark haired girl dismissed herself.
“If I’m not tending to my duties soon I will be missed, and the prince will become suspicious. He knows where my loyalties lie.” Ebony and Andolyn embraced. “I’ll be back later. Make yourselves at home, and get some rest. You’ll need it if tonight is to be a success.”
When she was gone, the trio did as they were told. This time, Barden had to squeeze through the tiny door.
“You know, buddy,” he said to Spade, “just because the chili is there doesn’t mean we have to eat it…”
Andolyn led them to another long hallway lined with bedrooms. Barden and Spade glanced at each other then looked to Andolyn questioningly.
“So, Ebony’s Enchantical Emporium is also an inn,” she grinned sheepishly, “but it’s only for those who don’t wish to be found.” The young men nodded, their question hadn’t been answered yet. After an awkward silence, Andolyn continued, “You know, it’s bigger on the inside—her shop—I don’t quite get that, but I just go with it…”
“Eh,” came the shrugged reply from Barden and Spade. This answer was sufficient.
Andolyn entered the room that was designated as hers and plopped down on one of the many pillow filled couches. The young men weren’t about to leave their princess’s side (both to keep her safe from any surprise attacks and to keep themselves from getting lost in the miniature city-in-a-building), so they found couches to lie on as well.
“So you and Ebony have known each other for a while then?” Barden thought aloud. He already knew the answer, but hearing the girl talk would ease his nerves at the moment.
“Yes,” Andolyn reminisced fondly, “she and I were close long before any of this garbage with the prince began…We used to get into all sorts of trouble when we were little. Whichever one of us didn’t get caught would usually bail the other out. Instead of playing damsel and heroine like Roselyn and I did, Ebony and I were usually wild adventurers exploring only the most dangerous of new territories…”
Spade lay staring at the ceiling. He smiled softly as he listened to Andolyn’s story, but he was deep in thought. The memories of his childhood contained no scenes of playtime and games, as this was not the first time the young thief had struggled against the royal family. How ironic it seemed to him that the two of them had switched places in the time surrounding their meeting; Andolyn to a life of turmoil and fear, and Spade to one of wandering at leisure with his best friend. He knew that if Andolyn were aware of the familiar danger their meeting had brought to his life, she would hate herself forever. Though it pained him that the girl now suffered as she did, Spade found comfort in knowing Andolyn’s earlier years knew nothing of the torment she now withstood.
When Spade came out of his dark thoughts, Barden was draping a blanket over Andolyn’s prone form. She lay with a beautiful smile of memory on her lips. Spade nodded; a satisfied smile reflected on his face from the peaceful scene as Barden dimmed the lights and stretched out for a nap of his own.
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| Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2011 11:32 pm Post subject: |
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Spade was on his feet with a card in his hand before he was actually awake. Barden too was on his feet, but instead of his broadsword, the young man clutched a broomstick. Ebony laughed as she turned on the light and shut the door to the small room. Andolyn rubbed her eyes as she sat up sleepily.
“Down boys,” Ebony teased as she sat four cups of what appeared to be tea on the small side table before them. She took her own cup and threw the liquid back in one gulp. Spade and Barden picked up their drinks and sniffed them gingerly. The smell was sweet, with a rosy twist. Andolyn drank from her cup as Ebony did. She then shuddered violently and hiccoughed. Barden laughed at the girl, but when he sipped from his own cup, he was sent into a fit of coughing himself. Only Spade was able to successfully mimic Ebony with the powerful liquid. Despite the sweet smell, the drink had potent warmth that penetrated the whole body. Every muscle felt stronger; every sense was heightened.
“It will help with our task,” Ebony smiled grimly.
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The sound of the cold, stone floors in the corridors of the castle rang unsettlingly memorable to Andolyn as the group raced along them as quietly as possible. For Spade, it wasn’t the sound of the halls so much as the all too familiar smell of the nearby dungeons that made his skin crawl. For Barden, the mere idea of this place was enough to make his stomach turn, much less actually being inside.
Barden ran in front and Spade in back with Ebony and the princess sandwiched between the two of them. Andolyn’s keen eyes scanned the rock walls for the small side door that led to the hall of records. After what seemed like hours, she spotted their destination up ahead and tapped Barden on the shoulder.
As quiet as the ghosts that were said to haunt the castle, the group slid into the chamber and down the winding, cast iron staircase to where the records were kept. Andolyn frantically searched for the book she last read in this place. It looked as though no one had visited the ancient library since she had over a year and a half before, but it was difficult to remember what she had done with the book before she was forced to flee. After almost an hour of searching, Ebony held up a large volume.
“Is this it, Andy?” she asked. Andolyn recognized the text immediately by the rich red leather bound by the purest of silver. She took the book and feverishly flipped to the page she had been reading before she made her flight from the castle.
“No!” she moaned as her heart sank to the floor. The page she needed—the page they had all risked their lives to see—had been ripped from the beautiful book shortly after her discovery of it. Barden placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she said, utterly defeated, “I might have killed us all for this.”
“Wait!” Spade peered over Andolyn’s shoulder as he pointed, “What’s that?” There, at the very bottom of the shredded edging, was a fragment of the page that had escaped the prince’s fury, and on that fragment was a single word: Handunburg. “Maybe there’s something there—another clue maybe.” Spade offered, hoping to brighten the princess’s spirits. He noted the dim smile that crossed Andolyn’s lips.
“At least it gives us a new direction,” Barden picked up the hint and offered his thoughts. Carefully, Andolyn removed the tattered piece of the page and burned it over one the candles they had been using to light the way.
“We can’t risk being followed,” she explained.
“Oh you needn’t worry about that,” came a chilling new voice from above them, “No one can follow you if you never leave this place.”
In one motion, Spade and Barden both placed themselves defensively in front of Andolyn and Ebony with weapons in hand. The young women were not completely helpless however, as they had removed a few of Ebony’s prized bows and arrows from the Emporium.
“Seize them,” Radan’s voice held a tone of monotony, boredom even, as he ordered his soldiers to take the stunned travelers, but this façade belied the frenzied excitement the prince now felt as his army took on the thorn that had plagued him for so long now.
The air was a swarm of arrows and metal playing cards as the heroes fought off the first round of soldiers, but they were heavily outnumbered. From her dark cloak, Ebony produced several vials of brightly colored liquids that, when thrown at an opponent, produced various undesirable effects; she flung them at the oncoming enemy like tiny grenades. As more soldiers closed in, it was Barden’s turn to show his skill with a weapon; he swung his long broadsword as if it were an extension of his arm. Spade continually gathered his deadly deck and dealt it again and again.
The small group fought their way slowly toward the stairs. In the midst of the turmoil, Barden heard Ebony scream, but when he turned to look for her, she had vanished.
Spade managed to make his way to the top of the stairs, but as he rounded the corner, the young thief found himself face to face with Prince Radan.
“You,” hissed Radan, recognizing the young man for the first time, “I might have known you had something to do with this, Jenkins.”
Wide-eyed, Spade reached for his deck only to find that he had thrown his last card at a guard who was attacking Andolyn only moments before. Desperate and vengeful, the thief quickly scanned the area for anything he could use to defend himself, but all surroundings went black when a soldier came from behind and struck him down with a club.
“Spade!” Barden was the next to round the corner. Seeing his friend unconscious and bleeding on the floor distracted the young man just long enough for another of Radan’s guards to pin him to the ground and secure his arms. “Princess, Run!” he cried, but she had already come too far.
It was Radan himself who took Andolyn; he wrapped her arm behind her back, painfully rendering her helpless before dragging the girl out of sight. Barden thrashed on the floor, screaming curses as the prince stole one of the most meaningful people in his life, and the other lay wounded on the cold ground.
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Andolyn sat in her “cell” waiting for the prince to decide how to properly dispose of her. She couldn’t really complain too much since—though, for obvious reasons they were not allowed to see each other—Roselyn had at least convinced the prince to lock her in a room with a bed instead of in the dungeon, but considering the way she felt, he might as well have hung her by her toes. Andolyn knew her companions were experiencing no such comfort as a bed and a basin of water; in fact, she wasn’t fully convinced that they were even alive. She wished the fate of what she knew to be happening on no one and hated herself for even the thought, but every time the princess heard the tortured screams from the chambers below her she prayed it was some unfortunate, yet unknown soul—anyone but her beloved guardians.
A few moments after the screaming stopped, the heavy door to her room swung open and Radan entered with blood spattered on his shirt. Andolyn’s heart stopped.
“Why do you insist on involving others in our little quarrel, Dear Heart?” Radan faked a loving tone. Andolyn was stunned. “Ah, well, you need not worry about the condition of your friends any longer; I’ve taken care of them.” Andolyn couldn’t stop the hot tears that began pouring from her eyes. A rage like one she had never felt before filled her heart as she lunged toward the ruthless prince with every intention of taking his life.
Caught off guard by the fury of her sudden attack, Radan punched the girl hard in the face, but that wasn’t enough to stop Andolyn. She struck the prince again and again with all the power she could muster—shattering several of the small bones in her hand—until he was forced to call his guards. One of the burly men pried the girl off his master and flung her to the other side of the room. Her forehead hit the corner of a table, stunning her long enough for Radan to retreat.
After he was gone, the princess was overwhelmed by an indescribable grief and laid in the floor weeping with sobs that shook her entire body. This was all her fault.
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The interrogation process was grueling and tiresome, but as he sat in his cold, wet cell, Barden felt grateful that the only wounds he had acquired during the ordeal were a few bruises, some knife wounds, and a few minor scrapes that would heal rather quickly. After his quick assessment, Barden’s mind was flooded with memories of the past few days.
“If Andy were here, she’d be fussing over me already.” He wondered what had become of his princess. He wondered if she was in pain, and he knew that wherever she was, whatever she was going through, she would be worrying about him and Spade.
Even if Barden had known the answers to the questions he was asked, he wouldn’t have told the guards anything. They had asked about Andolyn’s whereabouts over the past year and a half and what her plans were for the future. Barden had only recently met the girl, and from his experience he knew that she in fact had no plan and was making things up as she went. He had been surprised when they stopped beating him and led him back to his cell without a single question answered to their satisfaction. He guessed that meant he was in for worse things tomorrow.
From there, Barden’s tired mind wandered to his best friend. He wondered when the soldiers would finish questioning Spade and bring him back into a cell of his own. The musician pondered what questions they might have asked Spade and what he had told them—though he knew that, like himself, the young thief would die before putting the princess in further danger.
He didn’t have to think very long on the subject when he heard the door to his and the other cell open. Barden grinned as he moved closer to the gate so he and Spade could compare bruises, but what he saw next took his breath away.
Spade was not being led before the soldiers as Barden had been, but rather his limp form was dragged behind them. They roughly heaved him to the floor of the cell across from Barden, laughing loudly at the strangled cry of pain that came from the thief’s tattered body before noisily leaving the two of them alone. Barden watched in horror as Spade attempted to lift himself before crumbling back to the floor. The young man’s breath came in spastic gasps. On the exposed skin of his upper body, a myriad of half-dollar sized burns shown crimson and black in the dim lighting of the dungeon, and it was easy to see the bruised marks around Spade’s wrists and neck where the restraints had held him down while he was tortured.
“S—Spade?” Barden felt sick. Spade jerked violently at the sound of Barden’s voice. “Spade, what happened?”
Spade slowly moved himself to where he could see Barden across the walkway between their cells. His eyes were utterly void of anything but pure agony, and when he spoke the terror and pain in his hoarse voice stole the warmth from every inch of Barden’s body.
“The machine,” he started weakly, but couldn’t continue. Spade coughed, producing the brilliant crimson of his own blood, and his breathing returned to the rattling gasps; he shook as if he were lying in snow. Barden’s mind raced. The Machine. He had heard of that device. Its use was saved for only the highest enemies of the crown.
“W—what did they ask you?” he whispered, wondering what information could merit this torture. Spade laughed feebly with a laugh that chilled Barden to the core.
“They didn’t ask me anything…”
*****
and NOW we're caught up to the SG. i'm going to try not to let this fall so far behind again...i know that was a lot of chapters in a row, and i dont expect any of you to read them all any time soon. i just wanted to catch up. lol as i said before, pretty much everything but the one scene in Bridlestrom that i indicated is the same...until...here. =) the next parts promise to be an adventure!!
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Andolyn
Mayor's Ambassador
Joined: 18 Apr 2011
Topics: 20
Posts: 852
Location: sitting barefoot in a tree in the beautiful land of Ardara, writing my tales...
Items
Legends
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| Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 9:15 pm Post subject: Chapter 7 Part 1: Escape |
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Ebony raced along the deserted corridors of the castle. Her only companion was the silent figure dressed all in black that strode behind her. After she had been pulled from the battle by a guard named Gawain, who supported the runaway princess, she had been instructed to find the man who escorted her now and tell him what had happened. Her only worry was that they would arrive too late as she led the man to the dungeons.
The journey into the castle this time was much quieter with the use of the double-agent guard as a distraction, and any opposition that did manage to find them along the way was quickly disposed of by the man in black.
The duo hurried along the maze of cell blocks in the dungeons until finally, Ebony spotted Barden through one of the barred windows. He was pale and badly beaten, but it was the look in his eyes that made her want to look away. The man in black entered the block first and unlocked Barden’s cell with a stolen copy of the gate key.
“I’m fine,” Barden insisted, “Help him.” Ebony turned to see where Barden was pointing.
“Dear Lord,” she gasped when she saw Spade lying on the cold floor of the neighboring cell. The mysterious man in black was already kneeling over Spade, checking his pulse. Ebony didn’t see how he could possibly have one given the ghostly pallor of his face. After wrapping the young man securely in a blanket, the man in black lifted Spade and began to carry him out of the cell block.
“We need to find the princess soon or he’s going to die,” the man commented on his way out.
Ebony had no idea where to even start looking for her best friend, and was relieved when the group ran into Roselyn in one of the many corridors of the castle. She pointed them in the right direction and hurried off to send a patrol of guards in the opposite direction.
Barden began running for the door when he heard the princess’s sobs. Without hesitation, he busted into the room. A startled Andolyn lifted her head as a new flood of tears filled her eyes—only this time, from joy and surprise rather than grief and remorse. She ran and embraced Barden as though she hadn’t seen him in years.
The young man scanned the girls face, and felt his own growing very hot when he saw the cuts on her forehead and lip that matched the steadily blackening left eye.
“Don’t worry,” she giggled, offering her broken hand as evidence, “I already took care of it.” Ebony rounded the door and was met with a similar greeting to Barden’s. “I was so worried,” she continued, “He told me you were…” Upon looking around though, Andolyn’s joy faltered. “Where’s Spade?” She only needed the anguished look on Barden’s face to tell her what she needed to know. “Where is he?” she demanded.
Ebony motioned out the door. The man in black slid into the room with Spade’s unconscious body still draped over his arms. Andolyn’s hands went to her mouth to stifle the scream that was building up inside her throat; Barden wrapped his arms around hers to keep her from falling.
“He’s alive,” Barden assured her, “but we need to get him out of here.”
With that, the small group hurried out into the dark hallway and carefully out of the castle with the man in black leading the way.
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