Damsel

Patrick slid the sword into its sheath, the soft hiss the only sound in his home. The night shadows danced from the low fire dying in the brazier as he readied himself. He would need the darkness tonight. Stealth was the only way he could break into the castle.

With practiced ease, he slid a dagger into his boot, behind his back, beneath his bracer, and into his belt. Years of training prepared him for this night, but nothing could have prepared him for the battle to be against his own liege.

He splashed icy water over his face, chasing away the last bits of fog from the wine he drowned himself in earlier. His evening of forced oblivion exploding the moment he overheard that the love he was trying to forget was in danger. The soldiers whispering at the table beside him spoke of the youngest daughter of Lord Barker locked in the castle, forced to marry Prince Renold.

The mere thought of that evil man near his love sickened him. Rumors of his sadistic impulses filled the kingdom. Any woman forced to marry that man would suffer unimaginable agony before her life destroyed by this devil.

If Prince Orwan were home, he would plead his case to his old friend. They trained together as children, squiring together and learning true honor together. He knew his old friend remembered Patrick’s first love and would ensure her safety. But the last he had heard, Orwan was far from home, riding the kingdom’s borders to keep them secure.

There was no one who could save his love. Many knew her bleak future, he alone cared. Her father always yearned for more power and prestige. Sacrificing a daughter would mean nothing to a man like him. Others feared the royal family too much to say anything. He was the only one to care for his love.

He remembered the night two years ago when he shattered the heart of his one true love. He had been knighted and set to travel the lands to protect the kingdom and ride second to his friend and lord, Prince Orwan. He thought himself to be a romantic hero. A lady waiting for him at home would be an anchor dragging him from his fate. The realization of his stupidity came to him slowly. He knew now, he had given up truth and beauty for a false dream.

Shaking himself from his memories, he slipped out of his home and in the dark alleys of the kingdom. Guards clanked by in their armor, patrolling the streets and yelling at drunkards and courtesans to retire for the knight. Their obvious presence made it easy for Patrick to weave through the streets and alleys. His heart hammered with fear and dread like nothing he ever experienced. It was his training that drove his muscles with each step, perfect evasion as he made his way to his love. Without it, he would have ran headlong into the castle and killed instantly.

He took slow breathes as he neared the outer gates. Guards stood at attention, protecting the royal family with their lives. One family member did not deserve their dedication. Prince Renold broke his covenant with his people when he began abusing them. They deserved better. Though he never spoke the words, he always believed Orwan was the true prince. The one the people needed to lead them.

He moved away from the gates to the stone wall surrounding the castle. The gates were not an option for him. He refused to harm soldiers unless he absolutely had to do so. He would have to find a different way in. And he knew exactly where to go.

Bitterness rose as he carefully made his way to the east side of the wall. Because of his prince, he was losing his home. Once he rescued his love, they would have to flee the kingdom for her protection and safety. Tonight, he willingly gave up his path to start anew with his love. But he hated Prince Renold for making him do so.

He walked against the wall slowly, counting each step. He was nearing his target when he heard heavy footfalls coming toward him. He dove into the ground and tucked tight to allow the cape to cover him head to toe. He listened as the two guards came closer and prayed the shadows concealed him enough.

He waited as the guards passed his hiding place. Time slowed as the crush beneath their feet resounded by his ear. He watched as the boots landed mere inches from his face. He held his breath as they continued their patrol. He stayed curled until he could no longer hear their steps. He rose, brushing off dirt and leaves with relief. Fate was on his side. His quest was just and his love would be saved. He was sure.

Resuming his count, he reached the place he needed. The family’s escape path was hidden here. Few knew of its existence. Orwan had shown him the entrance years ago, drunk, and careless with secrets. Patrick had taken it as an honor. Tonight, he clung to it as his only chance to reach the woman he still called his love.

He slid his hands against the wall, searching for the lose stone. It took him several minutes to find the latch. His heart pounding as he scanned the stone wall and the surrounding area watching for soldiers to appear.

Finally, he heard the click, and he was able to turn the stone as Orwan showed him that night and the ground shifted. He rushed down the steps and felt his way through the dark tunnel gaining speed despite his blindness.

He knew the inner door opened into a small closet tucked within the royal living quarters. He tripped when he reached a staircase and he smiled tightly. Here it was. The steps must lead to the door. He climbed turning with the staircase and felt forward until his hand touched solid wood.

He pulled his dagger from his belt and unlocked the door. He opened it into the closet and was met with a castle guard turning to him. He rushed forward before the man had time to pull his sword. The guard yelped and launched forward. Patrick punched the man in the neck and tried to cover his mouth to stop him from altering the other guards. The young man fought back and landed a solid punch to Patrick’s kidney. His breath caught and the guard took advantage and shoved him back. Patrick grabbed at the guard when his boot hit the edge to the top stair. He felt himself falling back into the darkness. The guard was dragged down with him and they both tumbled down the first flight of stairs.

The two men tumbled down the steps, crashing into the wall, the stairs, and each other. Patrick’s head struck stone with a hard crack, and the world went dark.

In his mind, he saw his love’s face the night of his accolade. Her eyes filled with tears as he left her behind.

He woke with a gasp. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

Head aching, he looked to the side to see the guard still unconscious beside him. The young man’s chest rose, and he was relieved to know he lived. Quickly, he tied and gagged the man then slipped back up to the royal family quarters.

This time, he was met with an empty hallway. It was a surprise to see no guards on the floor. He had no idea who in the family were home, but he expected a more robust presence of the guards.

Relieved that fate once again smiled upon his quest, he made his way past the king, queen, and princes quarters to the end of the hallway he knew his love would be kept. The soldiers at the pub mentioned she was kept at the end of the hall of the family quarters.

He ran to the end of the hall, drew his sword, and kicked open the door. He scanned the room to see only one person occupied it. His love stood by the window eyes wide as she clutched a dagger.

His knees nearly buckled. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

“You?” She asked in a rough whisper.

He nodded. “Yes, my love. I am here.”

She frowned. “Do not call me that.”

Guilt assaulted him. “I must apologize, my love. I never meant to hurt you.”

She lifted the dagger slightly. “You never meant to hurt me, but you would come for your future king?”

He frowned. “I will protect what is mine with my life. Yes, the moment I heard you were betrothed to that animal, I came.”

Her hand began to shake. “I never thought it would be you.”

“I know. I have made mistakes, but tonight I will make my amends.”

He stepped towards her and she brought up the dagger as if to protect herself. He froze. “My love, you are safe now. Put down your weapon and come with me. I will protect you.”

She stepped forward raising the dagger defiantly. “You are a traitor. I will see you hanged for this, Patrick.”

He was stunned. “I am no traitor. I am a knight, sworn to protect our lands and its people. You, my love, are the one I have sworn above all to protect even if I must go against my future king. That is my duty as a knight.”

She slashed at him. “Do not call me that. I am not your love, and I will not allow you to harm Renold. You are a traitor and it is my sworn duty to stop your treasonous assault o this castle.”

He took a step back, surprised by the strength and swiftness of her movement. She advanced on him and barely avoided being cut against the chest.

“My name is Mara.” She side-stepped and slashed again. This time he had to use his sword to deflect her knife. “You are no knight. You are a traitor.” She brought up the dagger and with a practiced skill he never thought she could possess, she spun the dagger around in her hand and back swung toward her neck. He fell back and crawled several steps away.

She advanced and this time when he blocked her arc, she used his balance to kick him in the stomach. She swung around and then kicked him again in the arm. His sword shot from his hand and skidded away from him. She moved to place herself between him and his blade.

“You do not understand, my love…Mara,” he corrected. “Prince Renold is evil.”

She scowled. “You tie yourself to the devil, Patrick, not I. Who is with you? How many have come to kill their liege?”

He looked around the room. “I am alone. I had no time to rally support. When I heard you were to be forced to marry Renold, I made haste to save you.”

“There is no force, Patrick, you idiot.” She began to pace, keeping a close eye on him. “Tell me the truth, now Patrick and I will have your life spared. Who sent you? On whose orders do you come here to kill the prince?”

In frustration, he pulled the dagger from his boot, causing her to spin and hold up her dagger in readiness to battle. Her stance and clear skill remarkable and confusing. “I am under no orders. I came on my own to save you. I cannot stand by and allow you to be condemned to marriage to that monster.”

Her scowl deepened. “You lie. Our betrothal has not been announced. Only few know of it.”

“I overheard two soldiers discussing it tonight at the pub. I swear to you, Mara, I came only to protect you not to attack the prince.”

“But you would kill him if you thought him a threat to me.” She said more to herself than him.

She turned and looked out into the night, letting her guard down for the first time since he entered her rooms.

“Yes,” he answered despite knowing she was no longer giving him her attention.

She spun back around eyes wide. “You are not a conspirator.”

He threw up his hands is confusion. “No?”

She swallowed hard. “You aren’t working for Orwan. You are his patsy.”

“Now, hold your tongue, my—Mara.”

“He knew of our relationship. He knew you would never wish me dead.”

He put his hands on his hips, irritated. “You make no sense. Prince Orwan did not tell me of your betrothal. I happened to overhear it.”

She shook her head. “It was not coincidence. You were meant to hear them.” She sounded as if he were discovering the answer to a great puzzle, sliding piece by piece into her mind. “You come here, run away with me, and what?”

He shrugged. “We flee across the sea?”

She scowled at him. “You thought you coming here would cause me to fall in love with you and run away with you? You really have the ego of ten men.”

“For your safety,” he mumbled, refusing to admit she was right.

She gasped. “You would be blamed. Everyone knew of our past courtship. With us disappearing, no one would doubt your guilt.”

She ran to his sword and lifted it, handing it to him. “We must hurry.”

He took the sword and ran behind her. “Where?”

“To save Renold.”

For once, he listened and ran behind her down the hall. They came upon a group of soldiers outside the grand throne room doors. She did not stop. She tightened her grip on her dagger and yelled. “Sunset.”

Two of the soldiers pulled their swords and stepped away from the group. He recognized the others. They normally served as a part of Prince Orwan’s guard. He commanded them in the past.

That made no sense. They should be with Orwan at the border. Unless…

“You were right,” he whispered.

The two guys beside Mara attacked and the battle was swift but brutal. He advanced on Carl, a friend and a traitor, and locked blades with him. They fought as the other two guards took on the rest. He saw John Wembley, another former friend, run at him from the side. He cursed knowing he was at a true disadvantage when John stopped suddenly and fell to the ground, A dagger sticking out from his back.

Mara breathed heavily as she retook her dagger and moved towards the doors. Patrick quickly dispatched Carl and he followed Mara into the throne room, the other two soldiers still fighting the rest of Orwan’s men.

He saw his two princes standing at the end of the hall, Orwan with his sword I hand and Renold stepping back with his hands raised.

“Why, brother?” Renold asked.

“By nothing more than birth order, you have been given everything I want,” Orwan spat. “I want what is mine.”

“I would have given it to you,” Renold said sadly. “Had you proven yourself a true king.”

“Always the saint,” Orwan growled. “But no one will believe that now.”

Renold nodded. “I tried to believe it wasn’t you spreading those rumors.”

Patrick felt his stomach flip as he saw the mask his friend wore all their relationship slid away, leaving the bitter angry face of a man willing to kill his own brother for power.

“Orwan,” he yelled in hatred. “You lying bastard.”

The man never took his eyes off his brother as he smiled darkly. “Ah, my conquering hero. You should be far from here with your love by now. I’m afraid you will have to die then. I tried to spare you and the girl, but, alas, I will have to kill you. The murderer of my brother. I will be hailed a hero for that.”

They were close, but he knew there was no chance he would be on time to save Prince Renold. Mara, swift and agile, was two steps ahead of him, determination etched on her face. She had not seen that it was too late, yet. But she would.

They watched as Orwan brought back his sword. The deadly bow aimed at his own brother.

“Renold,” Mara yelled and threw her blade. In the blink of an eye, the dagger flew through the air, spinning it’s sharp edge, not toward Orwan as Patrick expected, but at prince Renold. The man threw out his hand and caught the blade’s hilt. Orwan swung forward but Renold and Mara were faster.

Prince Renold closed the distance in a single stride and thrust the blade straight into his brother’s heart. Orwan’s sword fell from his hand, ringing sharply against the stone. Patrick watched as his friend fell to the ground, crying out in anger as his life faded.

Mara rushed into Renold’s arms, and the two held fast to each other. Patrick watched them, a slow, painful clarity settling in. He had been wrong from the start. He wasn’t the hero of this story. That honor belonged to Mara—she had saved the man she loved, the man who would be king.

Patrick dropped to one knee before the pair. “My fealty to my future king and queen,” he pledged, voice steady with newfound humility.

The two soldiers beside him knelt as well.

Renold and Mara turned toward him, relief and gratitude softening their faces.

“Thank you, Sir Patrick,” Renold said. “For coming to protect Mara… and for standing between me and death.”

Patrick bowed his head. “It was my honor to serve you both.”