She made a plan. She would travel north to Tamerlane, then make her way west across the bridge, and then over the border of Aaralyn into Isamar. There she would know no one and would be safe from the spies in Xenos. The Dark Woods would keep her hidden for most of the way, then she could cross the Xanthe River into Isamar. She ran her fingers through her hair again and sighed. This is what her life had come to. A life on the run, hiding from an ogre who wanted to own her. She looked back on all the men who had offered their hand to her and wondered if maybe she should have given herself to one of them. There were a couple she recalled that would have at least treated her kindly. She did not love any of them, for men of royal blood bored her and stifled her need to be who she was. But at least she would be taken care of and would not have had to resort to this. She sighed again. There has never been a man of noble blood that she loved deep enough to give her body to, much less her life to, and now it was too late.
She turned away from the glass and went to her door. She opened it just a crack and peered down the hall in each direction. She had given her hand maiden the night off since she had wanted no one’s presence last night, so there was no one lurking about. She slipped from the room and quickly and quietly moved down the hall to the back stairs. She took them down to the back side of the kitchen and listened. She could hear voices now, and cursed herself for taking too long in front of the mirror. The kitchen help were up and preparing for the meals of the day. She peeked through the door, cracked just enough to see into the room, and saw three staff. One was at the washtub, another was chopping food at the butcher block, and the other was just carrying items from out of the larder. She needed to get in there to grab some food, but she couldn’t be seen. She waited until the woman had passed, her back to the door, and then she made her move. She crouched down and slunk passed the three workers who now all had their backs to her. She opened the larder door just enough to squeeze in and slipped quietly inside. She hurriedly packed as much food as she could into the pack: dried meat, a couple loaves of bread, a hunk of cheese, several apples, and some leftover tarts that were left from last night’s dinner.
She opened the door just a crack again and peered out. The three woman were busy working and chatting among themselves, which made her padded footfalls on the stone floor almost undetectable. She crouched down again and headed for the far stairs that led down into the cellar. The only time anyone was in the cellar was on the afternoons every other week when the supplies came in. Three kitchen workers would unload the cart that brought the supplies, check them in, and load them onto the overstock shelves. It was quiet this morning so she had no trouble getting in and going out into the inner bailey from the loading ramp. Getting across the bailey would be another matter entirely. The day shift of guards would be in place by now, and that meant a group of four standing watch at the gate, right across from the entrance to the stables. If she was seen, she would be stopped, and Gerard never missed anything. He had eyes like a hawk, that was why he was Captain of the Guard. She would then have to explain her cut hair and the travel bag she carried, and, if she did that, her escape would be foiled. She had to be out of the castle and far away before her father or anyone else discovered she was gone. She had to have a good head start or Fallon would surely catch up to her.
She waited until there was a clear path, when the sentries were turned away from her, pacing back and forth across the gates. When their backs were to her, she ran across the bailey, staying as close up against the wall as possible, but she didn’t see the guard coming out of the kitchen door. He stepped in front of her and smiled down at her.
“Where could you possibly be going this time of morning, Princess?” he asked her, eyeing her now cropped hair. He didn’t look angry, in fact, he had a look of amusement on his face. She knew him. He was a young knight, newly appointed into her father’s guard, who had always been nice to her. He was the same young squire who always covered for her whenever she was breaking the rules. She didn’t want to get him in trouble again, but she really needed him today.
“I wanted to go into town and get some things for myself. I wanted to get to the merchants before the crowds. It may be a while before I ever see the people of Kingswell again.”
He touched a short curl falling on her ear and frowned. “What happened to your lovely hair?”
“It was a hindrance. I decided I liked it better short, if it is any business of yours.”
He wasn’t buying it. He frowned at her and glanced over his shoulder to see if Gerard was at the gate yet. He looked back down at her. She was nervous.
“I believe Your Highness has been put into a terrible situation.”
She swallowed and looked at him. She decided maybe truth was best. “Please, Tomas, I must leave. I have no choice.”
He glanced over his shoulder again, saw Gerard coming out of the guardhouse and stepped in front of her to block her from view.
“Let me help you,” he said as she nervously looked toward the stables. “I will not let that barbarian have you. If Lucan is helping, I will to.”
She was shocked that he would risk losing his post for her. “Thank you.”
He walked along with her toward the stables, keeping her hidden from the view of the Captain of the Guard, and she slipped into the stables. He glanced her way quickly. “Good luck, Your Highness.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Tomas, I will not forget this.”
The stable door closed behind her. She tip-toed across the hay covered stalls and slipped out the back door, crouching down behind the grain bins. She was almost there. She made sure the voices she heard coming from inside the stables were on the far end of the stalls, then she walked briskly toward the orchard. It was bitter cold, so she wrapped her woolen cloak around her shoulders and pulled the fur lined hood over her head. Her thick woolen pants and linen shirt would keep her warm for awhile, but the elements would eventually sink in. She slipped in between a row of now bare fruit trees, and waited for Lucan. Only a few minutes passed before she saw him approaching, leading her horse, who was laden down with two full saddle bags. He reached her side and looked behind him to make sure he wasn’t followed. He handed the reins to her. She took them and tried to smile. He took her sword off his hip and handed it to her. She pulled it from its scabbard and looked at it.
The blade was Elvin steel, the strongest metal ever forged, and the color was almost translucent gleaming in the sunlight. The hilt was gold, with black glossy leather wrapped tightly around it as protection. The hilt wrapped around her hand snakelike, and the pommel had a large purple stone. It always amazed her how comfortable it felt in her hand, almost as if it had been made for her. When she held it she could feel a power emanating from it, and it sang to her. She didn’t know why, but there was a reason, she felt it. It was a beautiful sword, none other it’s equal, and it belonged to her. Her parents thought a sword a strange gift for a girl but accepted the honor with grace. When she turned sixteen, her father told her the story and said that when she married, it would go with her to her new home to pass on to her son. Since then, it had been wrapped and locked away in a special case in the armory under the protection of the Captain of the Guard. Every now and then, she would butter him up and