The Fugitive Prince Read online

  “If the cold didn’t get you up there, the wolves would try. You show any form of weakness they can smell it.”

  Gregor looked to the orchard to the left and the open fields of grass to his right suspiciously before he leaned down towards his listeners.

  “Or even worse. The White One.”

  Valente stopped eating his apple mid-munch.

  “The White One?”

  Gregor chuckled as he leaned even closer towards the prince. The horse snorted under the tilt and furiously shook its mane with a rock of its head. Cass swore she saw it roll its eyes under the unexpected pressure. The knight brought his voice to a hush.

  “The Alpha of Alphas. Oldest and strongest wolf of all Ohm’s Spine. Maybe even in all of Farlos. If you thought morpus were bad news, well the White One’s very shadow makes them appear like nothing more than flea-covered rats.”

  Gregor moved to sit properly on his mount again. His leaning and weight had caused the horse to drift from its intended course. Gregor pulled a hand from the leather reins and scratched his contained inferno of a beard.

  “They say it is a spirit of a vengeful Old One. That protects the kingdoms of Farlos from the madness of the Wild Lands… and the Wild Lands from us.”

  Valente swallowed the chewed apple in his mouth. Gregor placed his hand back on the rein and grinned.

  “So with ancient wolves and cold aside, if you made it through all that you’d still have to deal with painful hunger and crippling thirst.”

  Valente took another bite from his apple alongside taking another tale from the knight. He chewed thoughtfully as he looked to Gregor.

  “Couldn’t you have eaten the snow to satisfy your thirst?”

  Gregor tossed his head up in a short and simple shake before turning to and addressing the prince.

  “You would think so, but it’s not that simple. It takes a lot of heat to warm snow with your mouth.”

  The knight pointed to the mountains that ripped a grey and white jagged line onto the horizon.

  “Up there you’d be using up more valuable body heat melting the snow than what it’s worth to you in hydration. That terrible white stuff is mostly cold and useless fluff at any rate. You’d have to melt too much to get a decent drink.”

  Valente threw the last remnants of his apple core into the grass.

  “Then how do you quench your thirst?”

  Gregor rubbed his beard as he confidently spoke.

  “Blood.”

  Valente apple-filled stomach turned at the thought.

  “So… like a vampire?”

  Gregor heartily chuckled as he bared his knightly fangs.

  “Very similar but not quite in fairytale fashion. Blood is very useful. It holds warmth, and it has great nutrients for survival especially if you’re short on food.”

  The knight lowered his canine-bearing grin to more moderate standards.

  “If I couldn’t satisfy my thirst completely that way, I would always move with my waterskin full of snow and close to my chest. Let the heat from traveling melt the snow that way.”

  Valente’s curiosity refused to let up.

  “But I thought you said you went up there with only your clothes and a knife. How did you get a waterskin?”

  The knight deeply chuckled to the prince.

  “Made it myself with animal stomachs. When you hunt for survival, you waste nothing.”

  Valente jaw lowered not for apple consumption, but to express his piqued awe.

  “Gregor… that’s awesome.”

  Cass let the two men gain a few paces on her. Their conversation wrapped them up and away from immediate awareness as they continued to plod on towards the mountains. Gregor went on relaying his numerous survival tales and tricks. There were even bits of knowledge that had escaped Cass’s experience. However, her mind had returned to thoughts of her mother. A woman that had made it across the Nital Mountains, survived the uncharted Wild Lands and made it back with a fabled plant intact. Cass let her sorrow get washed away in the powerful memory of her mother’s accomplishments. In its wake, Cass found an unerring purpose of determination.

  I must be that strong.

  The weight of her cloak tug against her chest as the cool air whistled under it. Cass grabbed a handful of the frantically dancing fabric and moved it into her hand. Holding it between her finger and thumb, she rubbed it to scry any secrets her mother might have left in it from her journey. Cass pressed the simple threads under her touch. It was just cloth, but it held a wistful strength. The potential in the strings seemed to buzz under her hold. It had not been only physical prowess that helped her mother succeed. Cass closed her hand into a fist balling the cloth tightly into her palm as to hold the fading memory of her mother.

  “I die for you.”

  Cass’s heart cried in sorrow. The image of her frail mother burned into her mind’s vision as though it had just happened in that moment. Cass’s spirit trembled as her clenched hand quivered from not only the cold. She pulled her hand and the cloth closer to her chest holding the quake of emotion at bay. Her heart quit its cry to turn and silently shout out of its deep desire. Her mind was greedy for something she had yet to know.

  To have love you’d die for…

  Cass inhaled deeply bringing her mind back to her surroundings and out of the sways of grass and thought. The base of the mountains revealed itself at the creeping edge of the serrated horizon. The two ahead of her were too caught up in their conversation to pay her or their surroundings enough heed. She had to stay alert. Distractions near patrolled areas were dangerous. Valente pulled the conversation out from over his shoulder as he turned.

  “Hey Cass, I bet you know a lot about surviving off the land. You’ve been out on your own I’m sure you have some great stories.”

  Gregor pivoted on his horse as he eagerly grinned to the huntress alongside the prince. Valente’s intent and interested gaze crashed through Cass’s determination. She blinked herself out of her thoughts. Distractions near patrolled areas were not that dangerous.

  “Well, there was this one time with a Fourtusk…”

  The chill in the air crawled past the underwhelming and ill-suited clothes of the three. The small raids of frost grew bolder as the group carried on towards the ever-growing mountain range. Eastern wind had drifted and came down from the peaks carrying a cold and sinister intent. Valente shivered. He had never had the privilege of being outside the city walls during season’s end or during any part of a cycle. It had always been his grand prison, but it always had shelter, food and warmth. Out here and before the mountains, he could only scrounge up one of those options. The expanding cold lay question to his resolve and his duty to his country. Valente shrugged the cold and the doubt off as he pulled his arms around his chest and rubbed some sensation back from their chilled rest. It would only get colder from here.

  Cass had bundled herself deep inside her cloak. Closing off most of the cold and her companions, she trod fixed in thought. The crisping grass crinkled under her faithful march. Dwindling specks fluttered down on the cascading drifts of air. A few minute stars of white caught themselves in the prince’s black hair. The snowflakes perched on his dark strands for their short and adventurous lives. One by one they melted away and carried on to the next life.

  Valente moved towards Gregor with a thankful gleam under his cheeks. The thick leather clothes the knight had given him not only fit but provided more warmth than his royal silks would have. The garments were expertly tanned and functionally padded with warm inner padding. Valente rubbed a hand over the cool and leathery fabric. His cold hands ran over the small ridges of strings and along the soft patches of leather. All the material intertwined to form the warm and very practical cloth shell around him. It was natural compared to the usual royal curtain he would be forced to wear in court. He rubbed his arms aiding his clothes in their battle against the cold. Bringing his hands down he grabbed hold of the cuffs to pull them forward over his wrists. He coul
d hold the cold off for a bit longer. Valente’s fingers brushed against a small clutter of string hidden inside the edge of the cuffs. Pressing tighter against the embroidery his fingers traced the unseen inscription. A small etched pair of neat letters was concealed away in the arm’s fringe. Valente folded the cuff up to face him and reveal the secreted symbols.

  M.L.

  Faded, yellow letters peered at the prince on the brown leather they emboldened. The writing was elegant and well sewn. The craftsmanship was skillful and expensive. This discovery brought up a surge of curiosity in the prince. Valente folded back the sleeve as he tried to shake off the cold. He marched closer to move beside the mountain of a knight.

  “Gregor I must thank you again. These clothes have continued to impress me.”

  The knight did not hesitate to smile at the prince though an uneasy crinkle of strain crawled on his cheek.

  “Think nothing of it. I’m just glad they’re getting use.”

  Valente paused letting his fingers rub against the hidden embroidery. He pulled the sleeves over his arms. Valente stepped livelier and strode beside the mounted knight as he attempted to pry further.

  “I do not wish to intrude, but you said they belonged to a friend? I hope I am not imposing.”

  The knight slowly turned away from the prince. Gregor’s eyes grew heavy gazing into the frosty hills. A gleam of sorrow clung to his eye and accompanying it the wrinkle of a forced smile pulled forward along his cheeks forming an unexpected scowl. The knight closed his eyes shaking the hindrance from his visage. He looked once more over the drifts of wind and frost that garnished the chilled hillocks.

  “It’s alright, Val. He wouldn’t have minded.”

  Tension burned off into the air. An invisible stream of pressure poured off the knight. Valente swallowed. Valente could not deter his unbridled curiosity. The words jumbled out before his mind could stop to evaluate.

  “‘M.L.?’”

  If he were not on a horse, Gregor would have stopped in his tracks. The horse, however, sensed the sudden change in atmosphere as it snorted a goodbye to the prince. The drifting air sent another assault of cold against the marching party. The wind seemed to push along the thick tension of time as it spread the silent blanket of apprehension brought by the prince’s intrigue. The knight lowered his shoulders a fraction. For once, Gregor’s smile was truly vanquished. The knight spoke to the snowy ground below him.

  “He was my brother.”

  Gregor’s words chilled more than the cool air. The new timidity in Gregor’s posture rattled more than the slowly encroaching shivers of cold. Valente raised his voice to catch Gregor’s fallen spirit.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t—”

  Gregor’s grip strangled the leather reins nearly crushing them into dust. The giant cleared his throat halting any further locution from the prince.

  “It’s alright.”

  Gregor loosened his deadly vice as his composure recovered with a heavy sigh.

  “One of you would have pieced it together.”

  The large knight pulled on the reins and brought the horse to a quickened stop. Valente and Cass pooled their attention onto the knight. Gregor ran his hammer of a hand along the side of the horse’s neck.

  “We soon must go solely on foot and leave our friend here behind.”

  The horse wiggled its ears at the announcement. She looked to Valente to speak on her behalf. The prince shifted uncomfortably under the sudden intense stare horse. It almost looked like it wanted to stay. Valente moved up closer.

  “Why can’t we bring the horse on the trail? She seems capable still.”

  Gregor leaned back on the animal gesturing down towards the hooves of the horse.

  “One of the many things the Lost Men aren’t very good at is shoeing horses. The quality of iron isn’t only bad, but it’s uneven. We would have to take off the horseshoes to get proper traction, and even then I don’t think it’d be wise.”

  Gregor look down the road as he gave himself and confirming nod.

  “We’d run her lame against the rocks.”

  Gregor moved his hand up and pointed past a few silvery-green hills and towards the mountains. Through the growing wisps of winter, a frosted wall of stone glared back at the three. A small path carved itself into the villainous and stony face. The small and crooked path cracked upwards as it snaked into the forested ridges of the mountains. Gregor’s finger traced along the rough passage etched into the stone.

  “That trade path should lead to a small village. Probably mining. We can pass it by and most likely stay there for the night.”

  Gregor turned his beard towards the prince.

  “A warm room just like you wanted Val.”

  The bright red beard moved to greet the huntress as well.

  “We can get some supplies too. Then we’ll be hiking through the Nital for four days or so depending on the winds and weather.”

  The knight’s hand wiggling in the air illustrating their coming journey.

  “We should be able to get down near the Araheil. We can follow it down the mountain and then we just have to swim over the river. After that, we’ll be talking to the big crown in no time.”

  Gregor placed one hand heavily on his thigh as he rubbed it in worry.

  “I just hope we make it through the mountains. Dangerous weather and hungry animals are up there and they don’t cower according to size. If you two want, we can risk running the blockade of patrols.”

  Valente stared at the jagged path carved into the stone. It stretched on and out of view into the fog and clouds of whiteness that clung to the mountainside. The path seemed to lead itself up into the sky and into a lofty world of the unknown. Valente let the warmth of his crest inspire him as he stepped with purpose towards the distant path. Tharia needed to be warned about the war. His boots crunched against the crisp grass as he marched with a new lack of hesitation.

  “Let’s get going.”

  Gregor and Cass watched the prince trudge on ahead. An empowered passion and duty drove him. It seemed to cause the small drifts of floating snow to swarm around him and his now unmistakable presence. He forged a lasting path with each intent thump of his hard-leather boots.

  Cass and Gregor looked after him surprised by the spark of valor. The drifts eventually overtook his inciteful march. Fading him into a blurry and darkened figure in the snowy distance.

  Gregor broke free from the mesmerizing instance and rubbed his beard free of its effect. Gregor tapped Cass with the side of his leg. Cass was kicked out of her thoughts. Gregor threw his chin into a point directed at the mountains and the prince before them.

  “That man will be a king one day,”

  Gregor let out the cheekiest grin out from his bushy beard of scarlet.

  “You should capitalize on that.”

  Cass’s hood almost flew off in surprise as the wind attacked her. Her cheeks burned a shade brighter as they warmed the chilly air.

  “I…”

  The cold air seemed to dry the words from her tongue. Despair clung to her neck.

  “His… favor is already claimed. Someone else. Back in Lios.”

  Gregor grabbed his beard with a hearty and deep stroke. The action stoked the brazen stretch of his smirk.

  “I’m all for fidelity, but… What happened in Lios will have to stay in Lios.”

  Cass threw the old knight an angry glare as her nose snarled at him for the sacrilegious suggestion. Gregor’s smirk withdrew into a chuckle as he poked the horse with his shoe. The knight called over his retreating shoulders.

  “I’m only kidding Cassy.”

  Cass’s hood leaped up on the gust of wind. This time she did not catch it. The huntress let the wind fling the cloak all around her. In this chilling torrent, something in the back of her mind nagged at her. Even the knight’s well-construed smile and cleverly placed beard could not hide it. He was not kidding.

  The wind had picked up. Alongside it the cold scattering of sn
owy frost blew back and forth as a chilling tide. This weather had no issue binding cold to the travelers’ bones. Before them stood the jagged path carved into the mountain. A small sign protruded in front of the mass of stone. Its brittle boards lazily pointed up. Whatever had been written on it had long departed for warmer climates.

  Gregor dismounted the horse with a heavy leap. The ground rumbled underfoot as the knight’s boots smashed against the frosted dirt nearly cracking it. The snow clinging to the cliffs above threatened to cascade down into what would be a most unfortunate avalanche, but they remained lazily unmoved in the cold’s chill. Gregor grunted as he moved his hand to his legs. The knight forced himself fully standing as he moved behind the horse and delivered a firm slap to its hindquarters. Valente winced in sympathy for the stead. The creature abruptly turned its head to the slightly shivering prince. The dark and experienced eyes of the horse froze in silent contact with the prince’s own. Nothing more needed to be exchanged. The horse painfully snorted as it ran full speed away from the mountains and its very heavy and abusive rider. Valente looked remorsefully after the horse as it and its snowy hoofprints disappeared into the wandering winds of white.

  Gregor stretched and flexed to let his muscles and joints reinvigorate. The moving pain and stiffness from his wounds gradually subsided, as he thankfully grunted and shuddered.

  “Feels much better to be on my feet again.”

  Cass threw the knight a concerned glare. Gregor pounded his proud chest demonstrating his unstoppable vigor.

  “I’m sure I’ll live.”

  Cass would roll her eyes at his overconfidence, but Gregor had proven able to back up such claims.

  Gregor rigidly moved to the base of the path. His body and muscles relearned their proper functions after the long period of mounted travel. In front of the stretching giant, a few snowy stones slabs lay frozen to the ground. They each paved small steps upwards to the base of the mountains. Here, the carved stone road began its ragged ascent on the chilling face of looming rock.