Into the Fire

Battle plans

I stand motionless on the field strewn with bodies. Sweat drips down my face and dirt permeates my armor and chainmail. My long hair is a matted, dirty mess sticking to my neck and back. I can feel my right eye swelling and I wince at the pain on my hand.

The cut I received will not heal quickly.

There had been so much blood.

Even now the sword I hold limp in my hand drips blood.

Fighting back the urge to cry is not easy, but I contain myself, more for the sake of the soldiers than for myself. I concentrate hard on the landscape around us; the Mievian Mountains to the north, the Lark Woods towards the east facing the lone empty fields of rolling hills of the west that reach all the way to the faraway shores.

Looking back around me I see the faces of the men; exhausted, pained and filled with anger and sorrow. A few are picking up the dead, others tend to the horses. Healers run from man to man, easing their passing or trying to mend their wounds as best as they can.

This civil war is costing the kingdom everything. Even with all that my father did to secure our victory. It is not just costing us coin but men as well, farmers, goldsmiths, cobblers and its thousands of soldiers. Mooreland will see us bankrupt before surrendering to us.

But if we surrender to him, the kingdom will fall into chaos and tyranny.

I close my eyes and straighten up. I cannot and will not surrender my land to anyone. This will end with us, the rightful rulers of this kingdom remaining on the throne. It is the vow I made to my father before his murder, the vow I made to my family and to my people.

“My lady,” I hear. I peer around to see a squire standing there. He is young, much too young to be here, but then again most of us are.

“Where is Kalona?” I ask him. After Kalona had appeared so heroically at my side to save my life, he had disappeared like smoke.

“I believe he is in his tent, Your Grace, being tended to,” he answers.

“How badly is he injured?” I keep the inner tremor from my voice.

The squire shakes his head, “Not seriously, my lady.”

“Very well,” I tell him and make my way back to the line of trees to find my horse and head back to the encampment. Commander Haydn will want to regroup as soon as possible. We reach my horse and I hand the squire my sword, hoisting myself up on my mount, groaning in pain because of the injury in my hand.

I look at the long, thin gash across my palm. I try to close it but to no avail. It will impair me in battle and I fear we will be engaging with Mooreland sooner rather than later. I sigh again and with one last look at the men, I motion the squire forward. He looks at my face, then my hand and takes the reins of the horse, pulling them forward. “So tell me then,” I say.

“Their camp lies just beyond the Noran River. The commander has posted sentries far out in every direction from our camp. From what I hear, Mooreland is not with the troops,” the squire says.

Where could Mooreland be if not with his army? What schemes was he planning? Surely Commander Haydn will have some idea. “And how is the commander, did he fare well?”

He looks up and smiles, “Yes, Your Grace. He suffered minor bruises.”

I am glad to hear it. My father was very fond of Commander Haydn. Haydn had come to the lead the army right when my father inherited the throne. After my father’s murder he backed my sister when she ascended the throne, as well as supporting her rule when Mooreland showed his true colors by beginning his coup against the kingdom.

After the death of my father, my siblings and I were the only family left, the last of the Chevaliers Royal family. My brothers, Brenin and Jaie, are halfway back to the Capital by now. The four of us have not been together in months.

 My eldest sister, Aderyn, as Queen, is not able to join us in battle and so as brave as they are as soldiers, our sister needs them more than I do. I envy them. They will be together and when talk of war is over for the night they will retire and speak of other things, of pretty things; of times past when mother and father were still alive, when Miev was not under threat and we were still innocent children.

They carry a letter I wrote to her hoping that in it she can feel the love and respect I have for her.

All too quickly we are entering the gates of the encampment. The soldiers stationed here straighten up and bow deeply to me. When they rise again I realize they have small smiles on their faces.

“Your Grace, welcome back,” one says.

“We’re very glad to see you, Princess,” another intones.

“Good battle, my lady,” says another still.

The neat rows of purple tents pass me by and I cannot help feeling slightly better with their salutations. It gives me hope that all will be well, at least for the time being. The squire leads me to the stables where he hands the reins of the horse to a stable hand and then helps me down carefully.

“What is your name?” I ask him.

He smiles shyly, “Gareth, my lady.”

“Thank you, Gareth. Go rest now,” I tell him.

First and foremost I have to go see Kalona. He is so good at disappearing that sometimes I wonder if we all hadn’t just imagined him. As a Maldwynan, when he arrived at court two years ago every courtier wanted to get to know this exotic and elusive young man. Though I always thought they had been interested in him because he was also a member of the royal family of Maldwyn, rather than being interested in his military exploits.  

His tent is not far from my own. The sentry guarding it announces me and then holds the flap open for me to go through. The first thing I notice is the smell. It is strong and acidic. Then I see him, wearing only breeches, his back to me while cleaning his left arm.

He turns and gives me a slight bow, “Your Majesty, please forgive my appearance,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of humor in his eyes.

Kalona is cleaning a long gash on his upper arm. The wound he received when he saved my life. I see it all inside my head. Kalona deflecting the ax coming down towards my head with his own sword. The distraction allowed me enough time to get up and bury my sword in the man’s abdomen.

“I am sorry,” I tell him, taking my eyes away from the wound and looking up at him.

He shakes his head and his eyes soften, “It’s my duty, Your Grace.”

Kalona can be a gentleman one moment and a ruthless mercenary the next. I never know how he will answer me �" this time he has gone with duty, though I suspect it is not the only reason. His skin is sallow and dirty. His usual long, silky, shoulder-length hair is filthy and caked with blood as is my own. His luminous black eyes have lost their enigmatic brightness and there are dark, purple shadows underneath them. After a moment he goes back to tending the wound.

“You disappeared on the field. I couldn’t find you after what happened,” I tell him.

He shrugs, “I knew you were safe. There were others who needed help.” The smell of whatever he is using to clean out the gash finds my nose again.

“What is that stench?” I ask.

He turns around to speak again but notices my hand first, “You need to clean that. Come here.”

“I am fine. I need to speak to Haydn,” I tell him.

“Come here” he repeats, forcefully, and I have no choice but to move towards him and put my injured palm in his outstretched hand. We look at each other for a second and then he dips the washcloth into the acidic liquid.

“This is going to sting a bit,” he says as he gently swipes the cloth across the gash, sending sparks of pain through my entire hand.

“Where did you find this?” I ask, furrowing my brow at the stinging in my hand.

“From Maldwyn. It only makes sense that we come up with a good solution for war wounds when we are so good at causing them,” he says and then adds, “I would proceed with your eye, but it is too swollen and needs to be drained first. I doubt that will be a pleasant experience.” He smiles at that.

I roll my eyes at him, sighing.

“You do that a lot,” he mentions as he wraps my palm in clean bandages. It is hard not to look at his exposed upper body. It is as if every muscle was carved out.

I look up at him, “Do what?”

“Sigh,” he answers, “I spoke with Hadyn right when I came in. The reports are not good. Mooreland is closing us in and we are now outnumbered three to one. The odds are stacked against us,” he tells me.

“It cannot be so bad. We have allies in the surrounding kingdoms, we do not stand alone,” I say, surely he must know that.

“We had allies. This civil war was supposed to be less than a month long. A simple rebellion, which should have been put down quickly, but it has not. It’s been two years. This is no longer an internal rebellion. It is a full-scale war and the surrounding principalities do not want to back the losing side.” He backs away to don a simple gray tunic.

I move forward and sit on a small stool next to the cot he sleeps in. He sits beside me, and for a second he searches my face, gauging my swollen eye and other cuts. Kalona has come to be the person I trust the most besides my own siblings, as impossible as I thought it when I first laid eyes on him.

“You think this is a lost cause?” I ask, knowing he will answer truthfully.

“Princess, this is no longer a fight against a bad man. This is a man who has nothing to lose and everything to gain. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Miev is the largest, most influential and powerful kingdom on this side of the world, do you not think that Mooreland has made sure he has more allies than we do?”

His words cut through me like a serrated knife, “No. The surrounding lands have always been supportive to my father. Even Maldwyn, with all its prestige, has always been faithful. There is no possible way that Mooreland has won them from us!”

Miev could not, would not, fall under this madman’s rule. It is preposterous and treasonous to even think it. I look back at him looking at me with an almost sad expression on his face.

Tears prickled the inside of my eye. Before they decided to stream out I scramble out of the tent without a second look at him and head toward Haydn’s. If we are in such a bad shape then why hasn’t Haydn informed me? Tomos, Urien, Yaale, Maldwyn and Elisud have always been steady allies. I cannot understand how we are losing them, or have lost them already.

Here again the sentries open the flap for me and I enter without waiting for them to make my announcement. Apart from Haydn there are others inside with him, advisers and high-ranking officers who help him make the hard decisions. On my entering, everyone stands and bows.

“Your Grace!” Hadyn’s voice booms out from behind a long table. He comes towards me, relief etched on his face until he gets a good look at me.

“Send for a healer,” he calls loudly. A squire leaves the tent.

“Leave us,” he says.

“No. I want everyone to stay. I would like to discuss the state of this war and our position in it,” I say.

He seems taken aback by my request and for a moment stands there staring down at me. Then he sighs and slowly walks back toward the long table in the middle of the tent, which is stacked with papers, scrolls and a large map of the entire kingdom with our position as well as that of Mooreland’s army drawn on it. His armor and chainmail have been removed. Without the heavy armor upon his back, he seems aged, as if every day he loses a few years of his life.

I move forward towards him, “Are we losing this war?”

I chastise myself for even asking the ridiculous question. I have taken it upon myself to see this through and make sure we are victorious. At what point had I loosened the noose? This war is all I live for. All I care about now is bringing Mooreland to justice and seeing this kingdom begin to prosper once more under the rule of my sister, its rightful heir.

“Princess,” he begins, “We have gained much ground from Mooreland, but now he seems to be taking it back rather quickly. His forces are doubling and so are his supplies, despite our best efforts to cut off his supply lines. He continues to make ground. It is time for a new tactic because the ones we have are not working.”

“Have you sent the information to the Queen?” I ask him.

“The Princes carry the information to her,” he answers, leaning back against his wooden chair.

“Exactly when were you going to tell me?” I ask softly.

He sighs, “I was waiting to give you better news, Your Grace. But it is not likely that we will be getting any.”

“Your Majesty,” the voice is not Haydn’s. It is Aeron’s, one of the twelve lieutenants in command of the army. I turn towards him.

“As you well know, we have set up a rather extensive web of spies around the kingdom and the outside as well. What we gather from the information is that Mooreland stopped traveling with his army some time ago and has been paying visits to the kingdoms across the continent.”

“He’s buying them, do you think?” I ask him.

He shrugs, “Your guess is as good as mine, Your Grace. But since he’s left his army, their numbers have doubled, if not tripled.”

The men in the tent begin to whisper among themselves. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to find a way out of this fast deteriorating situation.

“There is something else,” Haydn speaks now, “something that perhaps is more frightening then what Aeron has said.”

“What can possibly be worse than our prospects of winning this war at the moment?” I ask, unable to hide the sarcasm in my voice. I hate to speak like this toward Haydn. He, who has been like a distant uncle, even father to me, but saving Miev is everything to me.

“It is unnatural how quickly he has been defeating us in battle. Today, for example, was not a good day for us. Yes, we beat them back, but we did not hurt them as they hurt us. As soon as we broke through their front line, they formed it again with incredible force. It is as if they are protected by something,” he tells us all.

“You think he’s using Magic?” I ask.

“What else could it be? I’ve lived through many wars, Your Grace. The way these men move is not natural,” he tells me.

I turn towards Aeron, “What do your spies say about that?”

“Mooreland has been to Tomos three times already, Princess. As we all know Tomos is the seat of the Order of the Mages. If Tomos has allied with Mooreland, then whose to say they have not provided him with some protections?”

I shake my head, “But the Order of the Mages is a sovereign state, apart from Tomos. They’ve been sworn to protect all life and to side with no country or person unless absolutely necessary.”

“Mooreland is very persuasive. He could be arguing a case against the Queen. In any case, this is only speculation. There is no real proof,” Haydn says. His tone is too serious, which tells me that even though there is no proof, he needs none.

My mind reels with this new information. The world is full of magic. Every kingdom has their own mages, but they all go to Tomos to learn the Magical Arts. Yet Dark Magic is strictly forbidden and is used only in dire circumstances. Has Mooreland recruited some dark Mage? If so, then winning this war has now become extremely improbable.

The tent flap opens in that moment and a healer walks inside, followed closely by Kalona. He walks towards a corner of the tent and leans on one of the posts holding it up, his eyes taking in the tense situation.

“What is our next step then?” I say, turning back towards Haydn.

“If Mooreland has recruited a Mage, then we should as well. We must fight him in every way possible,” Haydn says.

“Our Mages are in the capital with the Queen, guarding the palace. Should we risk leaving her unprotected?” I ask and my throat constricts.

He sighs, “That is something we need to figure out. But if it does not look good then...” Haydn stops mid-sentence and I look up into his face sharply.

“Are you going to say surrender?” I ask, “after all my father did and after all we’ve accomplished, you think it best to surrender?” I want to shame him into saying no.

“If we keep fighting and keep losing, it is inevitable that he will defeat us and take you prisoner, along with your brothers and your sister. When he has you he will execute you publicly, then what will the rest of us do?” Haydn says with no trace of sympathy in his voice.

“What he says is true, Princess. No one wants to see you or your siblings dead. You are the heirs to the throne. If we are defeated, there is nothing between him and the capital, which he will take with no trouble.” Aeron agrees.

“Then we stop him,” it is Kalona who speaks now. I study his features, but as always they reveal nothing and I wonder if he is only countering them for my sake because it is obvious that the only optimistic fool here is me.

“Surrender is not a solution and it won’t be the solution. We will defeat him. You say his forces are multiplying and that the surrounding principalities have abandoned us, so be it. So we strike hard and deep,” I say.

“How?” Kalona asks.

I turn towards him, “We kill his commanders. In their scramble to find new ones Mooreland will be vulnerable, and then that is when we strike him.”

They simply stare at me. Concern and exhaustion evident in all their faces.

“Light always defeats the dark.” I say it soft, like a prayer. They, as well as I, must believe it now more than ever.

“Princess, we have not paid the troops in a year. Extending this war will be detrimental to us,” Aeron says.

I scoff, “When they are all dead on the ground, do you think it will matter how much gold they take back to their wives and children?”

He continues, “We have very little food left in storage and we have already rationed it as much as we can without starving the men. There is dissent among them.”

I shake my head, “When I came back from the field all the men who greeted me had smiles on their faces. They saluted me for a good fight.”

“You are admired, Princess, throughout the land. The people know it is mostly you out of the royal children who championed the cause against Mooreland. The men respect you,” says another officer who stands. I know him by sight, but not by name. Like Aeron, he is tall and sinewy though a few years younger.

“That cannot be it! We cannot just forget everything we’ve done! This Kingdom needs us! The people need us to fight for them!” I yell, banging my good hand on the table in front of Haydn, who leans back on his chair, his expression is serious.

“Think of the countless people we can save if we end this war now, Princess,” Aeron pleads, fear in his voice.

“Saved?! Mooreland will destroy this entire kingdom! It will not matter if we surrender peacefully; he will have every single soldier murdered, including all of you. Even if the men beg for their lives and swear featly to him, he will kill them all for spite. You know all of this as well as I do. If he wins, nothing of Miev will survive. Is that the way to leave our women and children, defenseless against an army that will rape and pillage until there is nothing left?”

There is silence for a long time. Haydn shifts his gaze down towards the map, caressing his chin with his hand, as if thinking on something. Aeron stands with a lost look in his face. The other men sit quietly; some look down to their feet while others look up. My eyes wander to Kalona once more. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, an intense look in his eyes.

“If sending the entire camp to Mooreland’s territory is irrational then fine, only a few of us will go. The best assassins and skilled archers,” I finally say, breaking the silence.

“Princess, that is against the code of war and,” Aeron gasps, but I hold my hand up to silence him.

“I will cut through his chest with my blade and slice his throat for good measure if it is the last thing I do. I can die in this war, but this kingdom will not fall. Assemble fifty of the best soldiers and archers we have. At dusk tomorrow we will attack them,” I say, straightening up and for the first time now really feeling the pain in my eye.

“Princess, what you speak of is suicide. Their camp is miles away. Do you not think they are guarded against surprise attacks? And what if our spies are correct and they have gathered powerful Mages from Tomos? You will be dead or captured before you even see the lights of the encampment,” Haydn tells me.

I shrugged, “We have not attacked or sabotaged them in any way. If you say we are weak, then they surely think so as well. Greedy men are blinded to their own faults. If you say they wield magic then that is their first mistake because all magic comes at a price.”

“Mooreland is not with them, Your Grace,” Aeron reminds me.

“Even better, his men do not have his brains. It will be easier to pick them off,” I say.

“And once you kill his commanders, what do you suggest we do with the eighteen thousand men they have?” Haydn asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“They can either leave or join our ranks. But if they leave, then they will have to leave all their weapons and armor behind,” I answer.

Haydn looks at me for a long moment. I can see in his face that he is considering my suggestion.

“Commander, you cannot seriously be thinking about letting her do this!” Aeron yells, now looking around with incredulity.

“I assure you, my lord, I will do this with fifty men or on my own,” I answer, giving him a look that completely silences him.

“You cannot do this alone and neither can you do it with fifty men. Alone you will be captured and killed and with fifty men you will be captured and killed as well. It has to be well coordinated and more than fifty have to go,” Haydn says.

“But...”

It is now Haydn who puts up a hand to silence me, “You are no strategist, Your Majesty. I admire your bravery but I will not have you put all our men in danger because it is your belief that surrendering, even to bide our time, is not a gallant enough option.”

“Nevertheless,” he continues, “we may be losing this war, but I still have a few tricks to play on Mooreland. My tricks combined with your idea might just be what we need to turn this war around. Just might.”

We look at each other for a long moment. It is not often when Haydn and I cross words with each other. In fact, we have always been similar of mind, but we have different ideas on how to protect Miev and her people. He is not wrong of course, I am no military strategist, but I am not a fool either.

“Everyone is dismissed,” says Haydn, “We will reconvene tomorrow morning to discuss this venture.” Everyone gets up and leaves the tent. Kalona walks toward me and watches as the healer helps me remove the armor and chainmail, leaving me with a simple dark tunic.

“Leave the hand alone,” I tell her, “heal the eye.”

“Is this what you had in mind when you stormed out of the tent?” he whispers to me.

I look over at him with one eye and try to ignore the sharp pain on my face as the healer punctures the skin around my swollen eye to let the pooled blood drain.

“I have been kept in the dark by the very men who swore to see this through. There is no other option. It’s either take Mooreland down now, by any means necessary, or watch him destroy us all.” I make no effort to lower my voice, but Haydn does not speak again.

The healer cleans out the eye until everything bleeds out. She starts rubbing something on a bandage and I smell the acidic liquid that Kalona used for his own wound and for my hand.

I am expecting some discomfort but as soon as she rubs the towel cross my eye, I feel pain like never before. It burns its way down towards my neck and chest, until I can feel it inside my stomach.

“Aghhh!” I cry out, reaching out to grab something and find Kalona’s hand.

He chuckles softly, “I told you it would be unpleasant.”

I roll my eyes but it just causes me pain, which makes him chuckle again. I let go of his hand, which is surprisingly warm and soft, and grab my knee instead.

“So this plan of yours is all planned out inside your head or are we going to make it up as we go?” he asks.

“Tonight, we will coordinate everything,” I tell him, “but the end of this war is starting tomorrow, that I promise you, even if they take me down with them.”
           “He won’t take you down, that I promise you,” Kalona says. He looks at me a moment longer before turning his gaze down towards the floor and I study his profile for a second longer before averting my eyes.

The healer cleans my eye completely, making sure that no blood remains and dabs a cold ointment around it.

“It will reduce the swelling, Your Grace, and heal it faster,” she tells me. After another moment, she cleans up her supplies and leaves the tent. I notice that Haydn is not sitting at the table anymore.

“That hand will be healed by tomorrow,” says Kalona.

I stare down at my palm, and though the acidic liquid has certainly helped, it is not completely healed.

“It does not matter. I can handle a sword with both hands,” I tell him, then change the subject.

“How do you think the men will react? You think they’ll follow me?”

 

“We’ve been a long road, Your Grace. At times I haven’t known where it would lead us,” says Kalona.

I shrug, “Neither have I.”

“You have always kept faith and that is what has kept the loyalty of your troops,” he tells me. “The men will follow you until the end.”

“It will not be our end, but Mooreland’s,” I tell him.

He stands and offers me his hand to help me up. Gratefully I take it and we stand looking at each other for a moment. He bows his head at me, “Get some food and then some rest before tonight.”

I watch him exit the tent and after a few moments go outside myself. His tall figure grows smaller as he walks away towards the stable tents. I head towards my own tent and flop down on the small cot inside. There’s a small oil lamp glowing and hot tea has been brought in recently.

From under the cot, I reach for a small box I keep all my letters in. I open it carefully, I don’t want to damage my bad hand any more than it already it. Inside the small wooden box, there are dozens of letters from my sister and some from my brothers from when they were in a different encampment. I open the most recent letter from my sister Aderyn and smile as I reread it,

My Dearest Mel,

I hope this letter finds you well. Everything in the Capital is quiet. I mean that literally, it is dead quiet like I have never seen it. Fear and panic is beginning to spread, despite my best efforts. I have written to Haydn asking him to release Brenin and Jaie from military duty for a short while, I need them here. It pains me to leave you without them, but the faster we can resolve things in the capital, the better it will be for you out on the field. How I wish I could have you here with me, Mel. I worry about you every day. I know Kalona is there, even though you do not like to think he’s protecting you, but you are too young to be fighting a war. I would ask that you come back with our brothers, but I know the answer to that question even though I have not asked it. Send me a letter back with them; I cannot wait to hear from you. I love you, Mel.

                                   With all my love,

          Aderyn.

I am so engrossed in the letter and with memories of my siblings that it takes me a moment to register the cries and clashing swords outside of the tent. I stow the box away under the cot again and peak out through the flap of my tent. There are men yelling to each other, running towards the makeshift gates. I turn around sharply, looking around the tent for my sword, but I cannot find it. I feel for my knife and breathe some relief when I feel it tucked against my hip.

I hurry out of the tent and see even more soldiers running towards the gate; even the sentries have left their posts.

“Your Grace!” I hear the familiar voice as I see the young squire running towards me.

“What is going on?” I ask, trying to keep calm, though my heart is accelerating.

“We’ve had a breach in the encampment! We need to get you to safety,” he tells me.

“A breach?” I am confused.

“Princess,” Kalona’s voice is right next to my ear. I turn around and face him.

“A breach?” I repeat. I know he will hear my true question in that simple phrase.

He locks and unlocks his square jaw before answering me; “We need to get you to safety. I do not know who to trust at the moment.”

I turn back towards Gareth and place a hand on his shoulder, “Do not tell anyone you have seen or spoken to me.”

He does not seem afraid, and nods his assent.

Kalona and I run behind the tents where we are most likely not to be seen and make it to the edge of the forest. We hear more yelling and I hear swords beginning to clash. I stop dead in my tracks and look back.

“They are fighting,” I say, walking back towards the line of the trees.

 Kalona grabs my arm and spins me around. His face has completely changed. He’s no longer my fellow soldier, but the stonehearted mercenary I know him to be.

This Kalona is particularly frightening.

“You have no sword, and you have a bad hand. Getting killed or captured won’t help you secure Miev from Mooreland,” he says sternly.

“Keep moving,” he adds.

“Moving? Move where? Where exactly do you propose we go?” I ask, feeling anger rising inside my chest.

“We need the cover of the forest, perhaps climb up a strong tree. They could be out here as well. We’ll return when it’s over.”

“I can’t leave them! It goes against everything I’ve ever said,” I say indignantly.

“Mel,” he says, using the nickname only those closest to me used, clearly losing patience, “That breach was set up by someone on the inside. They executed the same idea you presented to Haydn.”

I gulp, knowing it to be true. This is too much of a coincidence to not be a betrayal from someone inside our own army. But the question remained, who?

“They were there to capture me,” I say, “to take me to Mooreland, wherever he’s at.”

“They won’t,” he says sternly, “but we have to move. Let’s not give them the opportunity to try.”

We run further and further away from the camp and the chaos, until at last I have to stop because of my eye. Sweat has run down into the puncture wound, making it sting.

“Urgh, I thought the ointment was supposed to make it better,” I complain. Kalona moves forward and examines it.

“It was supposed to rest a full night. It will be alright,” he tells me.

“Nothing about this situation is alright,” I counter, looking down at my boots.

He comes close and I feel his finger underneath my chin, tipping my face upwards so that I could look at him. This intimate touch is alien to me, but I feel my cheeks glowing red and my heart speeding up with an emotion that is neither fear nor loss. He eyes the wound carefully, still holding my face in place. “It will heal fine,” he says, holding my gaze steadily.

And then the moment is over as quick as it had begun. I hear a whoosh through the air and hear Kalona scream. He arches backwards and I grab on to him, seeing the long backend of the arrow that now pierces his back.

“Kalona!” I yell as we both fall to the hard earth. His eyes are wide open but he’s gasping for air as if he cannot catch it.

Men in black armor, their faces hooded so I can’t see their faces, suddenly surround us. We are torn apart and Kalona is blocked from my view.

“Kalona!” I yell but my hands are tied behind me and already Kalona is gone from the place he used to be. I scream his name several more times, more afraid of what they might do to him then to me. Has he died? Will they kill them if he hasn’t? Will they show mercy?

“Let me go!” I yell futilely, squirming underneath their strong hold, trying to reach the knife at my holster.

I am pushed against the wide bark of a tree. A hand claps down on my mouth hard. I cannot see my attacker’s face. The hoods cover their faces completely.

“Please be quiet, Princess. I can stay calm in situations like these but my men are a rather nervous sort. I’d hate to think what they might do to you in one of their states,” he tells me. His voice is pleasant, almost humorous.

“I will break your neck with my own hands,” I say, looking into the darkness. Hoping that whoever is in there heeds my warning.

The figure laughs and the hand slides down to my neck. “I like feisty Princesses. Perhaps I’ll have a taste first.”

“Leave her alone,” says another coming from behind the tree. He’s got a bow and a sheath of arrows slung across his shoulders. “Mooreland wouldn’t want her to be antagonized.”

“Cut me loose and you’ll never see Mooreland again,” I snarl at both of them.

There’s movement behind them as the rest of the attackers line up. I still can’t see where they have placed Kalona.

“Come, Princess. We have a long road ahead of us,” says the first one. He drops his hand from my neck and takes my arm.

I snatch my hand from his grasp and throw a kick in the middle of his legs. He falls grasping for breath and others converge on me.

“Shut her up!” I hear and something comes down hard on the side of my head, effectively knocking me unconscious. 

Reviews

[Orion]

Incredible job here. Made me wanting to be part of their plans. I also liked the choice of the names, which i find important. I will make sure to follow your following work.