• Welcome to the Fantasy Writing Forums. Register Now to join us!

Chapter Two of a Work No Longer In Progress

Since the rumors first reached the tunhee of the Glade, scouts had been posted at the outskirts of the surrounding woods. At all times thirty or more sets of yellow eyes were watching from the tops of the aspen trees, searching for anyone or anything that was suspicious or threatening. All, that is, except for one particular set. This wandering set of eyes was looking down at a couple of red squirrels at play.

The slender brown body the eyes belonged to was sitting on a long branch, balanced with an ease that bordered on the unnatural. One long leg was folded beneath the other as the second leg’s shapely calf swayed to and fro in time with a song unheard. Long, straight black hair tied back in a ponytail stirred in the breeze. Bored hands fidgeted with the bowstring of an ornate, beautiful weapon that had almost never been used.

The eyes drifted to the bow, and a small mouth exhaled a high pitched sigh of resignation. What was the point of bringing a fine weapon like this to such a menial task? It was clear to this tunhee that she would not get to use it on this assignment, and she chided herself for not bringing her trusty practice bow. The most danger she had seen in the nine days she spent at her post was an over-aggressive jaybird. She wouldn’t have begged Mother to let her take some shifts out on the tree-line if she knew it would be this dull. Whether or not the Wolves existed at all, her instincts told her they were nowhere near the forest, much less the Glade.

She turned her head out towards the grassy hills that lay beyond the edge of the woods. A myriad of troubles weighed on her mind. She would never get to do anything fun. The fun things were out of the question always. Her life would be wasted by having Mala overshadow her every hour of every day. It wasn’t fair. Not only was Mala older, she was prettier. And Mala always made sure everyone knew she was better. Mala would one day find a good husband, that was sure. Mala could have anyone. She hated the way everyone looked at Mala, with her light brown, flawless skin and her natural curls. And, of course, her eyes. Green eyes, the mark of royalty. It was as if the Spirits themselves had singled Mala out for honor and love forever.

And here she was, sitting on an aspen limb, with dark brown skin and yellow eyes like anyone else. The most she could hope for was to be courted by an ambitious court minister who wanted to advance his own social position. She would be somewhat popular for awhile and then be nearly forgotten after her wedding day. If only she could leave the Grove. Exploring the world had always been a persistent fantasy for her. She wanted it even more with the passing of time. After all, why not? No one would know who she was. Her yellow eyes would hide her regal heritage. And she didn’t care what anyone said; she was old enough to take care of herself.

But it would never happen. Mother would never permit one of her children to go off alone. Not after what happened to Rylan.

Trapped by her heritage, cursed by her appearance, she was giving in to despair when she felt the familiar pulse. Like a heartbeat pushing from her spine towards her breasts, the feeling swelled within her soul for a brief moment, then subsided. She rolled her eyes. Mother wanted to talk.

Acquaintances and servants always expressed wonder at the gifts her family possessed. They had no idea how aggravating it was for someone to be able to reach you anywhere, anytime, no matter how inconvenient it was, and expect you to talk to them. Mother was visiting the human lands right now, so she knew it must be something important for her to take the time to communicate this way. She felt the pulse again, and she bowed her head and closed her eyes to help clear her mind. She felt the energy channel and opened herself to it. She felt Mother inside her.

“How is the watch going today?”

She cringed at the words despite Mothers genuine accompanying feeling. “Same as before, same as always” she thought.

“No news is good, darling,” Mother thought. “Now, how are you faring?”

What could she say to that? She couldn’t lie, not with her senses being invaded the way they were when the channel was open. So she thought nothing and just opened her feelings.

Mother’s sympathy rang true through the channel. “I know, darling,” Mother thought, “I know.” When they communicated this way things seemed less complicated, and yet more so. When hearts intertwine, then honesty is unavoidable, but so are conflicts.

“But cheer up Aya,” Mother continued, “I have news that you will want to hear.”

Aya gave a start. She wasn’t used to this kind of emotion from Mother. It was benevolent and yet sneaky somehow, like Mother was hiding surprise gift behind her back. And, as if she were a small expectant child, she thought “What? What is it?”

Mother’s thought pattern came through quickly, but it took Aya a little time to sort it out. It seemed that, indeed, the Wolves were on the prowl, and a plan was being enacted. There was a key issue that involved the safe transport of a young human. He would be needing protection, and even Mother had to admit that her youngest was capable of helping in that regard. Aya was acknowledged as one of the finest marksmen in the Glade.

Aya nearly lost her balance on the tree limb from excitement. “Mother, you know I would love that!!!” But then the thought struck her, “What about a guide? I do not know the human lands at all.”

“I have given orders that your uncle Rost, is to travel with you. He will guide you here to where I am and then he will guard both you and the human.”

This was strange. Rost was more than capable at protecting anyone, but two royals to escort a human? Aya had to ask “Mother, why send just us? Why not send more? Or why not just send Rost? What’s really going on?”

Then she felt Mother’s soul tense up inside her. Something was wrong. “Darling, this is as important a task as anyone can imagine. I will speak with you more later, but trust me when I say that communication will be vital to success.”

“So you need to channel?” Aya asked.

“We need to channel,” Mother said, “and you and your uncle should be able to converse even if silence is necessary, should the need arise.”

Aya smiled. Finally some action. And not only action but perhaps some cloak and dagger type intrigue. She was elated.

Mother picked up on these thoughts and sent a stern thought: “Don’t start thinking you can throw caution to the wind young lady. I am Queen of the Glade and, what is more, I am your mother. As such I command you to care and discretion. The only ones who know about this are family and that is how it will stay. Do not overstep your bounds. Follow Rost’s instruction. And stay alive Aya. Stay alive.”

Aya’s smile dropped. Mother had lectured her before but it was different this time. There was more than just worry for her daughter in her words and feelings. It was worry for her whole people. “I’m sorry Mother. I know this is important, but I hope you won’t begrudge me a little fun. I’ve never been anywhere or done anything like this and I promise to be careful. I just want to live a little. Please, Mother?”

“Aya don’t act like I’m holding you back. I know you’ll have fun no matter what I say. It’s just that you’re so much like Rylan, and you know how I feel about that.”

Mother did not need to elaborate. Aya knew how she felt. She could sense it a little now as Mother thought about it. So she sent the thought back as clearly as she could. “I’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll be careful. I will not die.”

“Just don’t go looking for fun, darling. Let the fun come to you.”

Mother’s feeling was one of resignation, and Aya felt like she didn’t trust her. But once Aya made a promise she always kept to her word, and she wouldn’t let her mother down. “Yes, Mother, I will obey. Now, when can I go?”

A brief wave of mirth came through the channel then, and Mother thought “You’ve been ready for something like this for some time, I know, but I’d hoped you wouldn’t be this eager. When your shift ends go straight to Rost. He will give you the details.”

Aya then gave her thanks and her love and was about to close the channel when Mother thought “And say goodbye to your sister darling.”

Groaning inwardly, Aya complained “Mother, really..?”

“Aya,” Mother thought “Mala is your sister, your blood. And she does love you.”

“She has a strange way of showing it, always flaunting…”

“Aya!!!” Mother snapped. Her anger came through the channel with force enough to stop Aya from thinking or feeling anything. “We are all we have in the end,” she continued, “and someday you will both appreciate why I keep you two talking to each other. Now promise me you’ll show proper deference.”

Wanting to beg off but knowing that would be futile Aya promised to talk to her older sister and said goodbye. Mother gave her love and farewell, then the channel closed and Aya was left to her thoughts as an individual. The smile she had earlier returned to her face. This was the start of something different. And different was good, even if the reasons for it were scary. She was getting out, away from the glade, at least for awhile. She would do what she was told, like she promised.

But she would have fun. She was sure of that.

When her watch relief arrived Aya walked quickly back to the outpost hoping Rost was there, but the sergeant at arms informed her that he had been called back to the Glade. After informing the sergeant that she would no longer be available for duty she hurried to the hound pen. If there was anything in the world that Aya loved more than Mother it was her hound. Walking into the pen and shutting the gate behind her, she looked around and saw the familiar pale hide she adored so much.

There was Streak, her two year old racer. Striding to him he picked up her scent and yelped. Aya reached him, stroking his thick fur, and said “You ready to go boy?” He barked and wagged his stubbed tail. Then she saddled him, and she let him lick her face before she strapped his muzzle and reign harness on. After mounting him she let him leap the fence rather than stop to open the gate. “Run hard boy” Aya commanded, and Streak was off like a bowshot. Together they were a blur of brown and white in the fading sunlight as they followed the path that led to the Glade.

The stars were just gaining visibility when they reached the outskirts of the city. Aya slowed Streak’s pace, but since most other tunhee were indoors due to the late hour, she kept him moving fast down the main road towards the royal manse. As she approached the huge wooden structure she wondered at the artistry of it’s construction. By full moons light it looked as if it were carved from a single giant log. She had lived there all her life and she never could stop admiring the craftsmanship of her family’s dwelling.

Upon arriving, she was greeted by the sentries and she leapt from Streak’s back so she could hand his reigns to the master of the hounds. She then walked across the front courtyard and through the entry to the Great Hall. Eln, the steward, was there, and when he saw her he immediately started toward her. “Your Highness, your uncle instructed me to tell you that he must meet with you tomorrow at breakfast.”

Aya sighed. She had hoped to start right away, but a full nights sleep was a good idea too. It might be the last she would have for awhile, If she could sleep at all. Apprehension was building inside of her, as well as anticipation.

She trudged up the stairs, tired but feeling lighthearted. Already Aya had so many hopes for the journey. Having no idea where she was going only fueled her imagination, and the ride had given her plenty of time to dream So many things were possible now. Would she visit the northlands.? Or perhaps head west up into the mountain ranges? Or could it be a sea journey, by ship across the East Ocean to the lands the humans had come from? It didn’t really matter to her where the journey took them. What mattered was getting away for awhile. Wherever she wound up, she would be happy. She just knew it.

Sine, Aya’s handmaid, was waiting for her at her rooms. As usual she dismissed her from her room without allowing her to help her groom or dress herself for bed. Maybe Mala liked things like that, but not her. She could take care of herself. Taking off her scout fatigues she caught a glance of herself in the large, gold framed mirror that had been there since before her ancestors had ascended to the throne. What she saw she didn’t like. Dark skin. Yellow eyes. Straight hair. Aya turned away before she could dwell on her reflection too much. She finished undressing, put on her bed robe, and sat sideways on the sill of the large window by her bed to brush her hair out a little before bed.

Looking out at the Glade gave her a chill this night. The moonlight illuminated the city enough to make out the figures of a few scattered souls in the roads. The squat log homes and stores had been built and rebuilt unevenly over time, forming jagged, grassy alleys that wove outwards from the manse in the middle of town. The odd flower garden here and there added color and beauty to an otherwise green and brown landscape. The city itself stopped at the circular tree line all around the Glade, as if the aspens were an illusory city wall. In fact, the woods had protected the Glade from invasion more than once over the centuries. The forest gave natural defenses to the area, and these defenses had been fortified by the tunhee in ingenious ways. Only once in all the years the tunhee had called the Glade home had the woods ever been breached.

And the lasting legacy of that one time was why Aya would be leaving.

Tossing her brush on her dressing table she stood up from the windowsill as a yawn came over her. Getting into the large bed she wondered how much she would miss this place. She had lived here for all of her twenty seven years, so she knew she would miss it at least a little. She was sure she would not miss it too much. In all likelihood, luxuries of the type she was used to would be few and far between. But she wasn’t spoiled like Mala. She wouldn’t let herself get hung up over the lack of a few nice things.

With her eyelids heavy, Aya turned on her side and went to sleep with hope in her heart. Hope for what wasn’t exactly clear, but hope is what it is. Mere hope can make a heart content. At least for a time.

After breakfast the next morning Aya was feeling positive about the journey at hand. Rost had outlined what was to be done, and she didn’t foresee any insurmountable problems. They would ride by hound to meet Mother and her human compatriots in Stonesport, and from there travel north a short way to meet this man they were to escort. They would then head back to Stonesport, pick up a few more bodyguards, and board an eastbound ship. Once they arrived at their destination, which was some island she’d never heard of, they would acquire what they needed and sail northwest to the human colonies. After that it was just a matter of finishing the task. What that task was Aya couldn’t get Rost to tell her, but he promised that she would know when they arrived at Stonesport.

Rost had been very specific about what she should, and should not, bring along. No marks of royalty at all. No jewelry, no elegant clothes, no royal colors, no fancy armor, no indicators of station. Aya was fine with most of that, although she did bicker with him about the notion that she should not carry her good bow. He’d acquiesced on that without much fighting. He only stipulated that she carry arrows with no barbs. It made sense; they were easier to recover, and one never knew when or where a good Fletcher could be found.

When she asked if she could ride Streak Rost said yes as long as he could have a look at the animal’s records first. Aya smiled at that. Streak was a wardog in training before his speed got him noticed as a racer. He could adapt easily to the war muzzle and leg guards.

After that Rost went through his “I’m the boss” speech. Do as I say, don’t make snap judgments without consulting me first, blah blah blah blah. Aya had no intention of disregarding his orders anyway, so she pretended to listen while she finished her flatcackes and honey. When he finished, she said all the right things and they both rose from the breakfast table. She hugged him, thanking him and saying “I know things will be great. Just wait and see.”

Rost then pulled her away and held her shoulders at arms length. He looked her dead in the eye, his royal green orbs burning their image in her mind. “Use your head, young one,” he said “and things will be fine.” It was obvious he knew she hadn’t paid much attention to the last part of their discussion. But, she assumed, those words he just spoke surmised the bulk of his message. They then agreed to meet at the gatehouse after lunch and parted to prepare for the journey.

Sine was flabbergasted when Aya informed her of Rost’s conditions for the trip, in particular the parts about not bringing garments befitting royalty. “Well,” she said, “He’ll be hearing from me directly from me just what a lady of your station really needs!” She then tromped off, leaving a s******ing Aya to pack her saddlebags in peace.

Once Aya was finished she took the bags to a chambermaid in the hall and gave her instructions to take them to the master of the hounds so they could be loaded onto Streak. The maid explained that Mala had asked after her.

Aya had forgotten. A farewell still needed to be said, and she would have to deal with her sister whether or not she liked it. She asked the maid how long Mala would be. Not long, she said. Aya still had other things to do, but she knew she couldn’t procrastinate too long. Otherwise she would avoid speaking to her at all, and that would break her promise to Mother. She walked back to her room, shut he door, and dressed in her plain padded armor. She then went down to the guards barracks and requisitioned five full quivers of unbarbed arrows to be loaded onto Streak. Wandering into the kitchen, she discovered some leftover spiced bread and apple butter, and she helped herself to an early lunch. Finishing that, she decided to brave the confrontation and go see her sister.

Ascending the stairs in the great hall Aya walked to Mala’s room. She knocked at the door and a voice bade her “Enter.” She walked in and saw Mala’s handmaids but not Mala. She asked about her sister and they informed Aya that her Highness Princess Mala was holding court in the throne room.

Mala holding court. The idea made Aya furious. Mala had overstepped her bounds before, but nothing like this. She stormed out of her sister’s room and grumbled to herself as she sailed down the stairs towards the throne room. What was her sister thinking? Only Mother held court in the Glade. Mala was out of line this time for sure.

Walking into the throne room she saw her, sitting on Mothers throne, and looking regal. Both sides of the room were lined by courtiers, ministers, and servants who stood with a posture of respect. One of the ministers was standing in front of Mala reading something from a parchment. The sight made Aya feel a little sick as well as angry, but she strode in despite that. She walked up the great blue rug leading down the narrow room to the wide platform, upon which rested the throne.

Aya stopped and stood right next to the reading minister, watching as her own sister, who could not fail to notice she was there, ignored her presence altogether. Mala just looked intently at the minister as if the matter was life and death.

As if the audacity of holding court was not enough, Mala was showing off that gown again. The gold silk one that emphasized her skin tone. Aya hated that gown. She had fantasized burning it more that once.

She stood there for a few moments, feeling more and more awkward, until she could stand it no longer and she said “Mala?”

Without bothering to look at her Mala said “I’m busy” and continued staring at the minister. Aya was livid now. “Mala!” she shouted loud enough for the whole room to hear. Any present who had not been anticipating some trouble were now too aware of the tension between these two young royals.

Mala snapped her fingers and the minister stopped reading. Aya flinched at her action. Mother never did anything like that to her subjects. Mala then looked down at Aya and said “I’m holding court.” As she said it she sounded annoyed, and yet she had the faintest wisp of a smile on her lips. Aya glowered. Mala was mocking her.

“You’re holding court? What right do you have to do that? Mother is Queen!”

“And I am Regent,” Mala stated matter-of-factly. She then feigned surprise and said “Oh, Mother must not have told you. Before she left she appointed me as Regent in her absence. And so I must hold court, the kingdom demands it.” She then smiled openly and said “Now then, what is so urgent that you must interrupt a report by our esteemed trade minister?”

All eyes were on Aya now. She was taken aback, but not quite taken off-guard. “The word of the Queen brings me here. Is that urgent enough for you?”

This caused Mala to drop her smile and shift just a little in her seat. A quiet murmur could be heard in the room, and Aya prided herself. Tit for tat. “As I’m sure you know,” Aya continued, “the Queen has commanded me to carry out a task that will take me away from here for some time. Her Majesty has asked me to bid you farewell personally. So I’m here to say goodbye.”

Mala looked at her a brief moment and said “Well, now you’ve said it.” She then snapped her fingers and the trade minister started reading again.

Aya could not believe what she was seeing. She watched as her sister turned back toward the minister. Too insulted to restrain herself she then yelled at her sister. “Is that all you have to say to me?!?”

Mala snapped her fingers again, and as the minister stopped reading, she turned on Aya. “Go away little girl,” she said, giving vent to anger. “If you had anything important to do then I would already know about it. And since I don’t know about it, then what our Queen has ordered you to do must be trivial indeed. Now take your leave before you embarrass yourself further.” Mala then turned back to the trade minister and snapped her fingers once more.

Aya was so torn then. It was an important task she had to perform. Mother had made a point of saying so. But Mother had charged her not to say anything about it to anyone but family. And because all these ministers were around she could say nothing about it. That was why Mala had just said what she said. Mala had to have known about both the journey she had to make and it‘s secrecy; Mother would have told her. And here Mala was making her lose face in front of the whole court.

With the tears of rage and humiliation threatening to erupt from onto her face, she found she had nothing more to say. Her sister was ignoring her anyway, and the people all around the room seemed to be on Mala’s side. So Aya stomped out of the throne room, out of the manse and into the hound pen. She held her emotions in check until she made it to Streak, and then she broke down. Weeping petulantly, she buried her face in her hound’s side, cursing her sister and her own inferior position. She had to get away. And she would be very soon.

When she regained control of herself Aya wiped her tears with her sleeve and checked to see that Streak was loaded up with all her supplies and weapons. She led him out of the pen and across the yards to the gatehouse. Rost was already there. Had she arrived late? If she was Rost gave no indication. “I see you’re ready as well” he said. “Shall we ride?” Aya nodded yes and tried to smile as she mounted up. They gave the commands to their respective hounds and were on their way out of the city.

As they trotted down the main path, Aya looked over her shoulder at the manse. All she could think about was Mala. She was so cruel. No one else seemed to acknowledge it but Aya had felt the sting of Mala’s superciliousness all her life. She wanted to believe that she loved Mala, but she had strong doubts about that. It was clear that Mala despised her, and Aya was sure that as long as her sister was Regent in the Glade she would not feel welcome here, family or not.

Perhaps she would not miss this place after all.

Portfolio entry information

Author
Sparkie
Read time
18 min read
Views
1,290
Comments
2
Last update

More entries in Book Chapters

More entries from Sparkie

Top