Sequel: The Game ›
Status: complete, but revisions are being made
The Pauper Princess
Chapter Nine
After two weeks of trees, winding trails, and stew for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we were finally nearing the border of Kyshia and Lequin. The monotonous evergreens gave way to deciduous trees, and eventually we could just make out the towers of the Lequinian Wall in the distance.
Lying between two vast mountains, the Lequinian Wall stands as a barrier to the only pass through the mountain range. Other rough trails could be taken on foot, but anyone travelling between Lequin and Kyshia with wagons or carts of any sort was forced to go through the Wall. It had been built centuries ago when the problems between Kyshia and Lequin had reached the point of war. The idea was to keep Kyshians out of Lequin, but none of our people have ventured this close to the border since the beginning of the wars.
As we set up camp that night, less than a day’s ride from the Wall, we were all on edge. In Kyshia, there were numerous tales about the Lequinian bandits that are said to inhabit these areas. The tales, which now are mostly told to scare little children, have been warped over the years, but even in their most watered-down form, they could cause even the bravest of men to be cautious. The Lequinian bandits were the very reason that Kyshians chose to abandon the border forests. The bandits had been known to demolish entire towns in a single day, attacking under the cover of dense nightly fog that plagues the forests near the mountains. Everyone, from grown men to infants, was killed and piled into a gruesome pyre that would burn for days, spreading the smell of burnt flesh to the neighboring villages.
After the fifth town was attacked by the bandits, our people packed up all their belongings and fled to the Falkian plains. Over the past few days, we’ve passed the collapsed forms of numerous houses. At one point, the trail led through what used to be a village. The dilapidated buildings have almost completely been taken over by the forest now, but where the village square must have been there was still a pile of sun-bleached bones. I retched at the sight, emptying my stomach of its contents. The general gave the order to quicken the pace, and everyone readily complied.
Several hours later, we set up camp in near silence, the only sounds coming from the horses as the uneasily stamped their feet. As night approached a fog descended over the forest, the same type of fog that cloaked the bandits’ approach in the old tales, and it was decided that a second guard would be added to each watch tonight. We ate another meal of stew and stale bread and went to our tents, with the exception of the first two guards who would take the first three-hour watch.
Mehta passed the night in restless bouts of slumber, tossing and turning about almost constantly, but sleep eluded my grasp. I listened to the sounds of the night: the trees whispering in a breeze, creatures of the night waking, and the guards as they switched shifts.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I awoke suddenly some time before dawn. I couldn’t recall what had awoken me, so I lay still for a minute and listened for anything amiss. Everything was silent. I left the tent to get some fresh air and noticed immediately that the camp was too dark. Looking around for a moment, I quickly realized that the fire had gone out, and the moon, which shed little light this close to sunrise anyway, was choked by an even denser fog than was present last night.
The guards would never let the fire go out, I was sure. At each change of guard, the fire was stirred up and more wood added. The silence pressed in around me, and I realized that I couldn’t hear the guards at all. Most nights I could hear their snores, and the guards that were awake usually sang or talked to keep themselves awake, but right now there was only silence. A chill rippled down my spine and a cold sweat sprang up my back. My heartbeat was suddenly the only sound in my ears.
I nearly tripped twice as made my way to where the fire was supposed to be. When I reached the fire pit, I passed my hand over the ash. It was stone cold, and not even a single ember remained. I touched a half-burnt log and found it was wet. The ground around me was damp from the fog, but I knew it was not enough to soak the logs. Another chill swept through me. What is going on?
I made my way to the nearest wagon and listened for the guards. I was starting to panic, though, and my heart was pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer, drowning out all other noises. I couldn’t see through the darkness, and now I couldn’t hear either. I felt completely alone and decided to wake up Mehta.
Turning quickly, I ran into something solid. I started to backpedal, but before I had a chance a hand was clamped tightly over my mouth to keep me from screaming, and an arm lashed my own limbs against my torso.
“It’s okay. It’s just me.” Relief set in immediately when I recognized the voice of Ekohl. I relaxed my tense muscles, and he slowly released his grip on me. I reached up to move his hand from my mouth, but I didn’t let go of him. With the darkness all around me, this one physical contact eased my nerves just a bit.
“W-what’s going on?” I was ashamed at the quivering of my own voice. I should have been calmer, and more aware of my surroundings, but fear had kept me from composure. Still holding Ekohl’s hand, I knew he could feel me trembling too.
“Just precaution,” Ekohl whispered close to my ear. “We heard a horn a few hours ago. It didn’t sound Kyshian, and it came from the north. We put out the fire to protect our position. All of the guards are taking this last shift.”
“Oh.” I glanced around in the dark, knowing I couldn’t see but expecting bandits to emerge from the night.
“You should go back to sleep.” Ekohl led my arm in the direction of my tent and tried to let go of my hand, but I clutched it even tighter.
“No!” My voice sounded too loud. In the sudden silence that followed, I could hear the other men shifting all around the ring of wagons.
“What’s going on?” a harsh voice whispered from my left. During the day, I would have recognized the voice as belonging to the General, but at that moment, I gasped and pressed closer to Ekohl.
“Nothing, sir,” Ekohl replied.
“It better be. Keep that girl quiet, Ekohl, or you’ll wake the princess.” It was hard to believe that, though I couldn’t see a single thing, he knew exactly who we were.
“Yes, sir.” I just barely heard footsteps retreating as the General moved back to his post, and, without another word, Ekohl put his arm around my shoulder and led me to his own post in front of one of the wagons. I stood beside him and just stared into the dark forest, expecting danger at any second, until a barely noticeable lightening of the woods signaled dawn’s arrival.
Lying between two vast mountains, the Lequinian Wall stands as a barrier to the only pass through the mountain range. Other rough trails could be taken on foot, but anyone travelling between Lequin and Kyshia with wagons or carts of any sort was forced to go through the Wall. It had been built centuries ago when the problems between Kyshia and Lequin had reached the point of war. The idea was to keep Kyshians out of Lequin, but none of our people have ventured this close to the border since the beginning of the wars.
As we set up camp that night, less than a day’s ride from the Wall, we were all on edge. In Kyshia, there were numerous tales about the Lequinian bandits that are said to inhabit these areas. The tales, which now are mostly told to scare little children, have been warped over the years, but even in their most watered-down form, they could cause even the bravest of men to be cautious. The Lequinian bandits were the very reason that Kyshians chose to abandon the border forests. The bandits had been known to demolish entire towns in a single day, attacking under the cover of dense nightly fog that plagues the forests near the mountains. Everyone, from grown men to infants, was killed and piled into a gruesome pyre that would burn for days, spreading the smell of burnt flesh to the neighboring villages.
After the fifth town was attacked by the bandits, our people packed up all their belongings and fled to the Falkian plains. Over the past few days, we’ve passed the collapsed forms of numerous houses. At one point, the trail led through what used to be a village. The dilapidated buildings have almost completely been taken over by the forest now, but where the village square must have been there was still a pile of sun-bleached bones. I retched at the sight, emptying my stomach of its contents. The general gave the order to quicken the pace, and everyone readily complied.
Several hours later, we set up camp in near silence, the only sounds coming from the horses as the uneasily stamped their feet. As night approached a fog descended over the forest, the same type of fog that cloaked the bandits’ approach in the old tales, and it was decided that a second guard would be added to each watch tonight. We ate another meal of stew and stale bread and went to our tents, with the exception of the first two guards who would take the first three-hour watch.
Mehta passed the night in restless bouts of slumber, tossing and turning about almost constantly, but sleep eluded my grasp. I listened to the sounds of the night: the trees whispering in a breeze, creatures of the night waking, and the guards as they switched shifts.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I awoke suddenly some time before dawn. I couldn’t recall what had awoken me, so I lay still for a minute and listened for anything amiss. Everything was silent. I left the tent to get some fresh air and noticed immediately that the camp was too dark. Looking around for a moment, I quickly realized that the fire had gone out, and the moon, which shed little light this close to sunrise anyway, was choked by an even denser fog than was present last night.
The guards would never let the fire go out, I was sure. At each change of guard, the fire was stirred up and more wood added. The silence pressed in around me, and I realized that I couldn’t hear the guards at all. Most nights I could hear their snores, and the guards that were awake usually sang or talked to keep themselves awake, but right now there was only silence. A chill rippled down my spine and a cold sweat sprang up my back. My heartbeat was suddenly the only sound in my ears.
I nearly tripped twice as made my way to where the fire was supposed to be. When I reached the fire pit, I passed my hand over the ash. It was stone cold, and not even a single ember remained. I touched a half-burnt log and found it was wet. The ground around me was damp from the fog, but I knew it was not enough to soak the logs. Another chill swept through me. What is going on?
I made my way to the nearest wagon and listened for the guards. I was starting to panic, though, and my heart was pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer, drowning out all other noises. I couldn’t see through the darkness, and now I couldn’t hear either. I felt completely alone and decided to wake up Mehta.
Turning quickly, I ran into something solid. I started to backpedal, but before I had a chance a hand was clamped tightly over my mouth to keep me from screaming, and an arm lashed my own limbs against my torso.
“It’s okay. It’s just me.” Relief set in immediately when I recognized the voice of Ekohl. I relaxed my tense muscles, and he slowly released his grip on me. I reached up to move his hand from my mouth, but I didn’t let go of him. With the darkness all around me, this one physical contact eased my nerves just a bit.
“W-what’s going on?” I was ashamed at the quivering of my own voice. I should have been calmer, and more aware of my surroundings, but fear had kept me from composure. Still holding Ekohl’s hand, I knew he could feel me trembling too.
“Just precaution,” Ekohl whispered close to my ear. “We heard a horn a few hours ago. It didn’t sound Kyshian, and it came from the north. We put out the fire to protect our position. All of the guards are taking this last shift.”
“Oh.” I glanced around in the dark, knowing I couldn’t see but expecting bandits to emerge from the night.
“You should go back to sleep.” Ekohl led my arm in the direction of my tent and tried to let go of my hand, but I clutched it even tighter.
“No!” My voice sounded too loud. In the sudden silence that followed, I could hear the other men shifting all around the ring of wagons.
“What’s going on?” a harsh voice whispered from my left. During the day, I would have recognized the voice as belonging to the General, but at that moment, I gasped and pressed closer to Ekohl.
“Nothing, sir,” Ekohl replied.
“It better be. Keep that girl quiet, Ekohl, or you’ll wake the princess.” It was hard to believe that, though I couldn’t see a single thing, he knew exactly who we were.
“Yes, sir.” I just barely heard footsteps retreating as the General moved back to his post, and, without another word, Ekohl put his arm around my shoulder and led me to his own post in front of one of the wagons. I stood beside him and just stared into the dark forest, expecting danger at any second, until a barely noticeable lightening of the woods signaled dawn’s arrival.