Authors: Natasja Hellenthal
As fast as she could she began to run almost soundlessly
, while staying as low as possible. She gave her trained horse the sign on the back so she would flee soundlessly. When she reached the queen, she launched herself against her back, hauling her to the ground towards the left, clutching her around her waist with one hand and with the other covering her mouth.
Together they landed on the wet mulch, halfway into the high ferns, which proved ideal for their hiding. Luckily, Artride’s horse had run along with Fiosa; they had grown fond of each other and began to trust one another, so they were also hidden from sight.
Artride had landed on top of Tirsa who took the full blow of the fall on her back before rolling on.
She stretched onto the queen’s back now, still covering her mouth. Her hood had fallen off.
Is this a crime?
Tirsa wondered. Artride tried to make a comment, but found it impossible with Tirsa’s hand firmly closed over her mouth. She twitched her head, staring with big eyes into the warning eyes of her companion.
Has she gone mad?
Was all Artride could think.
Her
bodyguard pointed to their right, where she had seen the face, moving the two of them closer into the ferns which covered them completely now.
They heard the soft slow thudding of hooves coming their way through the open woods close to w
here the women lay hiding; right in front of them.
Two horses.
Artride dared not move.
The low voices were whispering and unmistakabl
y male.
When they had passed Tirsa rolled of
f the queen’s back, all the way excusing herself for her behaviour.
‘No, you did the right thing
,’ Artride responded whispering; stretching onto her elbows, straining to look at the faces and just managing to recognise one of them before they vanished from view. She let herself roll on her back to the spongy forest floor and stayed frozen with wide-open eyes and a snow-white face. She covered her face with her muddy hands.
Tirsa resolved to see if they had really passed without noticing them
, and worried about their horses, still ahead of the men. She sat down beside the queen whose mud-stained face was screwed up with horror.
‘Do you know who they are, my Lady?’ she asked unnecessarily. Tirsa tried to be casual.
Artride sighed and also sat up, still with tormented eyes, trying to dry and clean her wet muddy hands on her leather breeches, though failing at that mostly.
‘Volmer; my uncle
,’ she softly murmured so that the other woman had to come closer to hear her.
‘Who; your uncle?’
‘I don’t understand,’ Artride added, ignoring or not hearing Tirsa’s comment. ‘How could he have followed us; we were so careful.’
‘Why would he follow us?’
Artride stared at her with big fearful eyes and blinked a couple of times with her long black lashes flashing, as if she suddenly awoke to find herself in a nightmare. She looked totally drenched from the rain.
‘I do not know. He could not have known we were heading for Dochas. No one knows.’ Tirsa peered in the shadows and stared back at her. ‘But you said your guards would take care of anyone following us.’
‘He is Royalty and must have talked his way through when the guards tried to stop him.’
‘And what about the other guy; his bodyguard?’
Artride
shook her head beneath the hood in discomfort and bolted her hands into fists. ‘That must be Gradolf, his counsellor and protector.’ And she gestured in the direction their own horses had gone; not so far from where the two men had headed. ‘What about our horses?’
Tirsa grinned. ‘I taught Fiosa to come back after a while; she knows when it’s safe and will stay clear
of them. I just hope your steed will follow her.’
‘But even a horse cannot know those men mean ill.’
Tirsa winked at her with one eye while she said, ‘Believe me, I taught her well; all men mean ill.’
Artride suddenly slapped her knee in frustration and softly cursed.
‘Why do you fear them so, my Lady; what harm can they do? It’s your uncle, family?’
Tirsa still did not quite get it; she could still be naïve and innocent even after all that she had been through
, which appealed to Artride. To Tirsa, it was obvious that Artride was not pleased to see them, but she seemed more than upset.
She laughed. ‘I do not really fear them. I detest them to put it mildly. Volmer just makes it all very hard for me.’
‘How come? If I may ask?’
She tugged her hood closer at the nape of her neck for she was getting cold. ‘According to the
book I have to marry before I turn thirty; in two years that is. It is the old story; my uncle always made it clear to my father and me, he wants his right to the throne. He finds it hard to fathom that now my father is dead, his offspring instead of the brother, inherited Ceartas.’
She gazed up at the canopy of leaves above them
, from where the rain poured on her face; closing her eyes she continued, ‘I have the first right as a child of the firstborn, not the second born. When a first-born marries, the husband or wife inherits the throne. When they are both gone, the children do. He knows that. Father’s counsellor betrayed my father when he went to my uncle to serve him. My uncle is a Count in Razoras; Morinthië, you see, and that position is not enough for him. He just does not let go of the thought to rule over Ceartas.’
‘Razoras!’ and she narrowed her eyes. ‘And if he kills you, he will be
king.’
‘Yes, however, he won’t do that for he knows about the curse and the curse won’t let him get away with murder unpunished. Even if he had me murdered by an assassin
, he would die too. He knows the rule, I am sure of it. That is the only rule I am glad about. However instead, he plans to marry me. He already asked me a couple of times,’ she reflected in a hot voice.
Tirsa looked puzzled and speechless for a while. ‘Marry you, but
… he is family, blood related!’
‘In Razoras these things appear to be quite common,’ and she added with a weary chuckle,
‘what else would you expect?’
Tirsa had to think about this disturbing news and wiped her runny nose
on her sleeve; facing away from the queen.
‘And the curse
… or the book will allow this marriage?’
‘Apparently it wasn’t a crime in those days. I have to give my word to him before it will ever happen and obviously I won’t.’
‘But why don’t you marry someone else instead? He can’t bother you then, can he?’ she asked silently.
‘I will,’ Artride said
somewhat uncomfortably ‘But until now Volmer always stood in my way when I invite suitors into my castle. My undercover soldiers found out he bribes the young men with large sums of money and strange stories about me. I even have evidence of his soldiers wounding a couple of those who ignored the stories. Unfortunately, I can’t have him punished for that, nor can the book; for those things were also quite common in those days when the curse was born. Royal women were not really supposed to choose their partners themselves, but men on the other hand …’
‘Who does he think he is?’ Tirsa coiled her fists in anger; her second nature by now.
‘Since all that I haven’t made much effort. I don’t want to endanger any more men.’ She hung her head low.
‘But what if they come unexpected?’ Artride
resolved to look at Tirsa to see if she was serious and let out a small wheeze.
‘Unexpected? I do not think that word exists within the borders of Ceartas
, nor my castle.’ And she turned her face away and pulled her heavy hood a little further over her forehead so her face was hidden. ‘Everything has to be planned; you of all people have found out yourself when you wanted to see me.’ Tirsa remembered that clear enough.
‘Well, they can only come by my invitation or when they ask me officially by letter. But I can’t seem to hide those things from Volmer; he always knows. Sometimes it is as if I have a spy in my castle. I really can’t trust anyone.’
Surely, a woman of her beauty must not find it too hard to find a lover out there
… Tirsa pondered.
Well, lovers surely, but a suitable husband is something else of course. He will most probably have to be approved by the book. I do feel sorry for the poor lad; not understanding what will bestow him fully until the queen can tell him after they are fully married. He himself will have a life in chains no doubt; golden as they may be, chains nevertheless. Also, you really have to have a heart of stone to endure the pain and grief of the powerless queen. And probably it’s more like marrying the book than her. But didn’t she mention the privileges Royal men have above women?
She shook her thoughts off and narrowed her eyes. ‘Perhaps that counsellor is to blame.’
‘I deny Gradolf any excess to Tarac, but like I said; I don’t trust many people of my household. There must be a spy.’ Tirsa thought about Jaromir, the head of the
queen’s bodyguard.
‘What about that bald guy
, Jaromir?’ she asked gingerly.
The
queen smiled lightly. ‘Jaromir is a good soul. He is always there when I need advice and looks after me and loves his country and his queen. But then again … you can never tell, can you?’
And how can she trust me? I did not sign or vow anything
…
After a moment of listening to the
rain falling on the leaves and the ground, Tirsa pointed out, ‘And of course, Volmer followed you when he found out you were going to find a husband on your own. I don’t want to be rude; but you had to see that coming.’
The
queen licked her wet lips and reflected solemnly, ‘I did, that is why I ordered my guards to stop
anyone
following us,’ her jaw was set in a grim line.
‘We don’t know what truly happened.’ Tirsa tried to comfort her, rubbing one knee, which hurt a little from the fall. ‘Maybe you have been underestimating those two men.’
The queen did not comment, but had to admit to herself that Tirsa was most likely right. When she was sure her uncle could not kill or stop her from going, nor follow her, she thought she was safe and sound. What a fool she had been.
‘If they are clever enough,’ Tirsa pondered, getting up on her rather stiff legs again, reaching a hand out to Artride, helping her up
, ‘they will come back looking for us. It looks like they have been following us from a small distance; so we’d better hurry and change course, before they trace us.’
And like Tirsa predicted; their trusty horses came back to them after
a few moments. Artride could hardly believe her eyes.
They chose an alternative route through a dense wooded area, urging their horses off the trail and into the thick underbrush. And when the forest became of a more open nature
, they let their horses gallop as fast as they could, hoof beats drumming.
The persistent drizzle in the air turned into a thin spray. Artride did not want to stop and look for shelter to finally warm themselves, which there clearly wasn’t. There were no caves or fallen trees big enough to cover two humans, let alone two horses in the open landscape. She wanted to get rid of any followers
, and as far as the Magical Land was concerned; no magic had been noticed so far.
After a while, riding through a birch
wood with some large old pines, and granite rocks scattered around like graves, they slowed to a trot, glancing around. Tirsa looked pensive.
‘What do you think? Did we shake them off?’ but Tirsa bit her lower lip as if she was not sure. There was a strange stir in the air.
‘I have this strange feeling I can’t place.’
Artride watched Tirsa on her right and
studied her expression, which was almost unreadable.
‘Perhaps it is fear
,’ she commented and observed her again; her head covered with her chain mail coif, a single string of wet hair withering in the wind, and her eyes big and darker green than Artride could remember. She felt melancholic just looking at her and a sudden sadness.
The air was thick with moist
ure and pushed heavily on Artride, who felt tired as well.
Suddenly the
queen and her bodyguard felt a cold gust of wind blowing past them; it wavered along the huge pine trees towards some high prickly bushes.
If they had
only looked in that direction; but it all happened so fast. Instantly an arrow whizzed and hit the black neck of Xaverius without so much of a sound. The horse reared up, pitching Artride backward. She barely managed to hold on to him, clutching at the reins. Xaverius let out a high terrifying scream, still staggering on his hind legs, then dropped slowly towards the floor when he felt himself weakening. He rolled his eyes, tossed his head and sank to the ground.
Tirsa jumped off her own horse and smacked her mount on the rear so she would run; after professionally grabbing her helmet, bow, arrows and shield from the saddlebag.