The Fugitive Prince Read online

  “Oh. I suppose that could be interesting.”

  Cass slight smirk peeked in eager anticipation.

  “I reckon it will be.”

  Cass brushed herself off. The prince was quick to follow. Grabbing her bow from the small campsite they had scrounged together, the huntress led Valente. She came to a gradual stop a few paces north from where their bird was roasting in a small cove among the trees. The welcome warmth and the building tender aroma pulled away as they entered its folds. The darkening and cold Liosian forest grew bolder around them. Cass pulled down her hood and let the cool air flow through her golden yellow hair. Her braid gently bobbed in the wind. The freedom of this nature uplifted her spirits. Cass smiled. Valente tried to rub the growing chill away from his arms. Cass stepped towards the prince.

  “Alright Valente, take this.”

  The huntress offered the prince her spidersilk bow. The glint of the string entranced the prince. Valente took a moment to respect its brilliant build before he grabbed it.

  It’s so light.

  The prince was beyond impressed as he lifted the weapon. Its combination of craftsmanship and quality was beyond most things he had seen. The curve of the wood was deliberate and pronounced. Its string was pliable, yet without a doubt trustworthy. He had gazed at the bow with fascinated curiosity before, but now, with it in his hand, he understood its value.

  It could be an artifact.

  Valente let his palm rub against the smooth and potent wood. Even the grip itself felt natural in his inexperienced hands.

  “Where did you get this bow? It’s incredible.”

  Cass attempted to focus on the task as she tersely brushed aside the prince’s curiosity.

  “It was my father’s. Here. You know how to hold it right?”

  The prince lifted the bow before him and did his best impersonation of the huntress. He peered out into the darkness bearing handfuls of certainty. He arched his back and stood as though to embody the powerful freedom he had seen in Cass’s usual movements. Cass put an impatient pair of hands upon her hips mixing it with a skeptical glare.

  “Is that supposed to impress me?”

  The prince shrugged. He lowered the bow and raised his free hand to offer a tentative excuse he did not have.

  “Well, you do it.”

  Cass lowered her eyebrows into an opportunistic smirk.

  “I don’t act like I’m constipated.”

  The prince and the huntress exchanged humored looks and laughed. Valente exaggerated his ashamed nod. Cass grabbed her braid and gestured with her free hand toward the bow. Valente let himself be guided and raised the bow. Cass moved forward pushing Valente’s grip higher and his elbows a fraction outwards. She tapped his feet adjusting his stance in slight portions. Valente stood in uncertainty as Cass looked him over. She gave an approving nod as she began her pacing.

  “Bows aren’t like swords. You don’t want to focus on your dominant hand. You want to focus on the eye that leads your vision.”

  The prince flipped the bow in both his hands trying to find a difference. He did his best to keep true to the stance Cass’s had molded him into. After a short reflection, he decided his right hand was more natural.

  “Does that matter? Surely the more dominant hand for pulling back the string makes sense.”

  “Not for this. You want to aim at your target. This isn’t a test of strength. It’s a test of dexterity.”

  Cass approached the prince and stood beside him. She looked into the woods. The prince followed her gaze. Cass’s vision settled between the trees as she pointed among them.

  “Okay fancy pants, you see that shrub between those trees?”

  Valente carefully tilted his head revealing a small bush hidden in the cloak of night nestled just behind two entwined trees. A small gap provided the only vision of the bush. Valente nodded.

  “Good. Now close your right eye.”

  The prince did so, and his vision shifted hiding the bush behind the two trees.

  “I can’t see it anymore.”

  “Now with your left.”

  The prince once again obeyed, but this time the small bush showed itself through the minute gap.

  “Yeah, I can see the bush again.”

  Cass knowingly smiled.

  “You’re a left eye.”

  Cass adjusted the bow in the prince’s hand forcing him to hold the bow in his right hand. She gently tapped his stance back into proper form.

  “Just like me.”

  The prince watched the huntress. She seemed pleased with her own lesson and work. She stepped backwards behind Valente and called over his shoulder.

  “Now turn your body a bit more as to face the bow and spread your legs a little.”

  The prince adjusted his position to satisfy the huntress’s request.

  “Now bark.”

  Valente shot a confused glance backwards at the huntress who was trying her best to squelch the grin that was bubbling under her cheeks.

  “Don’t look at me like that. Eyes forward!”

  Cass’s grin overflowed.

  “It’s a rarity you get to command a prince.”

  Valente opened his mouth to retort, but Cass carried past his oncoming remarks. She walked forward plucking an arrow from her quiver.

  “Okay. Now here’s an arrow. Notch it.”

  Valente deftly mimicked what he had seen Cass do many times before. She watched with observant approval. She nodded as she once more tapped Valente’s feet back into position.

  “Good. One finger above the feathers… Perfect. Now aiming with your left eye. Try hitting that bush.”

  The prince started at the huntress with an incredulous dollop of confusion. She was serious. The grin on her face had swapped with expectancy. It softened for a moment to give compassion to the worried and shaken prince.

  “Hey, you always miss the shots you don’t take.”

  Valente swallowed a tad of uncertainty as he turned towards the small gap. The soft and light twine musically vibrated under his fingertips as he pulled it back. The elegant harp tensing before it sang its deadly tune. Valente closed his right eye squinting at the gap. His vision sharpened from the simple action. Breathing, the cool air calmed the irresolute jitter of his nerves. He needed to find the right moment. The wave of the forest passed over him as the pleasant din of rustling leaves tossed by the breeze cheered him on. The prince lined up the shot. His body tensed as it searched for the right time. The drum of his heart slowed to a rhythmic and dutiful beat. His eye zeroed on the target. The moments between each thump of his chest lingered for near eternity. The prince’s soul called out. Valente let loose the arrow. The colorful feathers brushed past the prince’s fingers in a soft farewell. The arrow soared with a brilliant purpose and intent that he had never witnessed. He knew with complete certainty he had found the perfect moment. The gentle twang of the spidersilk twittered behind the arrow as it flew towards the entwined trees, then passed them, and finally to be lost in the darkness of the trees. Valente blinked. Cass cackled.

  “Hmm… maybe you are a right eye.”

  Cass’s light giggle echoed off the bark of the empty forest. Indignity branded Valente’s skin with burning sensation. He lowered the bow and his head. The weight of its wood seemed to have multiplied tenfold.

  “I guess I’ll leave the shooting to you.”

  Cass walked up, and she pushed the bow back up from Valente’s defeated stance.

  “Oh, come on. The fun has just begun.”

  Cass handed the prince a freshly plucked arrow. Her finger pointed ahead once more.

  “Let’s aim for that big stump over there okay. The objective is to hit what you’re aiming for okay?”

  Valente looked at the huntress. Her excited grin was barely contained as she tried to instruct him. He was not sure if she was happy to train him or she was looking forward to seeing him fail. Normally, this pleasure at his expense would have upset him but something softened his anger.
Valente’s eyes traced over his tutor as she expanded on her lessons. Her words waned from thought for a short instance. Her burning focus illuminated her soft nose and cheeks in the dim forest.

  She looks pretty.

  Valente shook the idea from his head as he instinctively looked southwards towards the Liosian capital.

  Maria.

  Valente sighed letting the deep memory of what he had left behind trickle off. Valente redirected his attention to the learning he did not want to daydream over. He continued to listen to the strange and wild girl he had stumbled across in the woods.

  As the bow sang its familiar tune, a Farlosian thrasher continued to cook itself into an unpleasantly charred discovery.

  Valente and Cass had traveled three days. Each of these had involved quick walking, fast strolling, and lively pacing through the forest. All of which Valente had made sufficiently clear he would rather have a horse be doing in his stead. Cass did her best to battle the prince’s issues by keeping in mind those that hunted after them. Valente’s stubbornness was eager to stay negative. However, Cass’s patience persevered in the face of the complaints. The stubbornness soon turned into hopeful jests. Valente now only occasionally complained.

  The woods grew with a more gradual freedom and spread out. Navigation among the trees became less of a weave and more of a walk. Fragments of light served as glowing voyageurs among the thinning leaves. The light grew bolder as the forest spread itself thin. Swaths of grass rose in their eager place. They had reached the northern side of the Liosian forest. The trees here were less densely packed, yet this had allowed the wooden watchers to grow taller and reach out to the heavens above. The sky gifted the massive Longbarks illumination along their near endless stems. A wholesome warmth of the sun emanated off the unmoving legion of giants. Among these tall northern trees, the huntress and the prince forged onward. Valente found himself pleased about the ease of travel. The lack of many roots, shrubs, and other green-sticky objects had some hope for his deteriorating garb.

  Cass was less optimistic. Hunting had grown harder. There was less foliage and thus fewer critters scurrying under the looming trees. The huntress, however, had not run out of tricks. She whipped the prince with her open hand pulling his attention away from the mighty leaves above.

  “See there. That large patch of grayish green moss. That’s Ogan’s Beard. It loves water and drinks it right up like a thirsty sailor. Grows everywhere too. If you see it, you know there is water nearby.”

  Cass rubbed her hand over her tentative lips.

  “You can also eat it. Not tasty by any standard, but it’ll keep you alive.”

  The prince looked up on the expansive patch of moss at the base of the grand tree. It was almost as appetizing as the fallen stick in the dirt beside it.

  “I think I’ll pass,”

  Valente’s stomach growled, “for now.”

  The pair continued their path under the canopy. The streams of light grew stronger as they continued to worm through the massive leaves. Valente looked upwards trying to get a glimpse of the sky. The sway of the green paddles pushed away most of his attempts.

  “Looking for something?”

  Cass turned to face the prince as her body kept going forward. Without the difficulty of a thicker forest, she confidently strode backwards. Valente looked back down and gave Cass an open shrug.

  “Oh. Nothing. I’m just looking for the Star of the Seven. I heard it’s visible around this time of year.”

  Cass looked up among the sway of leaves. The leaves moved with the breeze to form a vast ocean of green.

  “The star so bright you can see it by day? Good luck finding it through those things.”

  Cass lowered her questioning gaze to the prince.

  “Why are you stargazing, anyway? Not the best place to do it.”

  Valente looked up at the emerald canvas. The light of the generous sun glowed behind them. The promise of sky remained unfulfilled.

  “Yeah. Perhaps you’re right.”

  The prince placed his hand in his pocket tracing over his Tharian crest. Cass spun and walked forward again. A glimmer of light refracted through the leaves sending a bolt of warmth against his cheek. The prince softly touched his hand to his face.

  “The star reminds me of my mother.”

  Cass stopped in mid-step and half-turned to the sky-gazing prince. Her hood clung to her hair concealing most of the sincerity in her face.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

  The prince sent his vision more earthward. His eyes followed a large leaf attempting its flight on the breeze that blew between the giant trees.

  “It’s alright.”

  The wind tossed the leaf upwards and into an excited spiral.

  “I remember her singing on a balcony. I was so little I could barely walk on my own legs. She sang a song and pointed out that star every night. I can’t remember the tune for the life of me. It was something about the gods watching us and discovering love, but I can’t recall. Although, I remember that star and… her voice.”

  Valente clutched his palm around his royal crest as though it were the memory of his mother. The flying frond twisted towards the ground. Its short and beautiful flight ended as it brushed into the earth.

  “ Those above the clouds looked down and found their pride,

  For the many souls that roamed the great land,

  Each gave a gift to help us with our stride,

  Began the new dawn of love with no demand…”

  Valente stared stunned in admiration sprinkled with disbelief. Cass crooned the powerful and familiar tune. Her voice carried a deep passion he was unprepared to experience. She was just a commoner, yet her graceful voice sent shivers through the prince.

  “That song… that’s what my mother…”

  Cass smiled at Valente, as her happy tune came to a short end.

  “I’m glad. That’s the Song of the Seven. An old Creation song. A hymn my mom taught me. Sounds like your mom was a believer too.”

  Valente let both his indignity and appreciation fight for mental dominance as he recalled his lost mother’s tune. The words seemed to flood forward from a gray corner of his mind. The surge of nostalgia brought with it vivid and warm memories. Valente smiled and bowed to the huntress in a deep and sincere respect.

  “Thank you. Truly. I did not realize you were such an excellent and talented bard. You have a most eloquent voice.”

  “Eloquent?”

  Cass blushed, “I don’t know what that means but I like it. Thanks.”

  Valente’s smile grew bolder as his cheeks stretched to their limits.

  “My pleasure. You helped me remember my mother. I—”

  Valente cut himself short for an abrupt observation. Cass had quickly crouched down to listen. The redness in her face was cast aside in purposeful focus. Valente’s voice called out with hushed curiosity.

  “What is it?”

  Cass closed her eyes as to attune herself with the surroundings. Her head tilted as the noise she heard made itself known once more. She shot upwards with vigorous haste and surprised the prince. Cass looked at Valente her eyes full of an imperative duty.

  “Someone’s calling for help.”

  Without another word, the huntress ran off to the West.

  -6-

  Valente barely caught his breath as he stumbled on. His heart fell deeper into his chest as he surveyed the surrounding trees bewildered and panicked. He had lost sight of Cass. She had run so quickly towards the distant cry she forgot to wait for him. Valente’s chest heaved with effort and fear. He was lost. Alone. He had not thought about how safe he was. Knowing a capable escort was a few paces away eased the heavy edge of the wilderness. Without her, the trees and the woods stood thick with a worrying gloom. Valente pushed away the realization of reliance. Now was not the greatest time. Searching the shrubs and trees for a hidden answer he trudged forward, but before he could find what he was looking for, she found
him. A powerful tug on his vest sleeve sent him off balance. He spun his arms in frenzied circles to steady himself. The action proved ineffective as he tumbled towards the earth. Cass caught the prince’s fall and brought him behind a large collection of bushes. The prince would have bellowed and smashed into the ground had not Cass caught him in her arms. She placed a stern palm over his mouth to mitigate his noise. The forcefully coddled prince’s wide eyes stared at Cass. A minor fragment of relief broke free and spread a calmness over Valente’s instinctive hysteria. Cass removed her hand pushing the prince into a crouch beside her.

  “Look.”

  The prince spun his head around to follow the huntress’s outstretched finger. A small road bisected the forest here from north to south. In the middle of this path, remained a cart covered in various crates and barrels. A burnt and distinct brand marked each container: The Tharian Trader’s Guild. Valente squinted to reconfirm his eyes’ discovery. Tharian trade carts were a rare sight in Lios this near to Season’s End. Valente’s hope blossomed for an instant.

  Perhaps they can get me home.

  A whimper rose from in front of the cargo. An older man knelt before it pleading for his life. His hands clenched together in desperate prayer to the gods. Around him, several men armed with blades and axes picked at the cart. Each took whatever caught their eye. They systematically destroyed and discarded anything else that failed to pique their interest. The merchant sobbed.

  “Please, don’t hurt me. My family needs this.”

  The tears supported the middle-aged man’s truth, but all of it fell on deaf ears. One bandit kicked the man over onto his side. The merchant grunted as he landed in the road’s mud. The bandit unsheathed his blade. His grimy and gruesome grin loomed over the vulnerable merchant. The bandit chuckled from his own twisted humor and traced the edge of his sword along the man’s abdomen.

  “Do I gut this crybaby?”

  A stiff voice called from the cart’s front. A large man bearing a vest of steel and chain rose and paced from a plundered crate. His hand drummed against the hilt of the blade embedded in his belt.