Transgression

Dark and cold and distanced from everything she had ever known.

But the High Princess of the Realm could take such things in her stride.

Aramanthis told herself this as she huddled under a coarse blanket with another underneath her, cushioned by a heap of hay, not of the freshest, in the dark loft of a cold barn.

One of the horses snuffled below in the darkness. Too noisy to be her mare, likely one of the stallions. Slowly, she turned over on her other side and felt the hay yield and shift, the rough fibres of both blankets irritating her bare legs and arms which were more used to satin or silk.

Mantis blushed as she remembered Kinoaveh helping her undress in the flickering light of the torch. The three strange men did not exactly stare, but they did not look away.

Was losing her outer garments supposed to keep her from running away or just humiliate her? Maybe both.

She flinched at a snort from downstairs, not sure if this was from a man or a horse.

Her eyes opened wide as she heard the creak of the loft ladder yielding to someone climbing up. She prayed wordlessly that this would be Kinoaveh.

“Sorry, Princess,” the soft familiar voice murmured. “He held me tight even after he slept, so I could not find you sooner.”

“Kinny,” Mantis whispered, “are you well?”

“I have had better nights,” came the reply as Kinny added another blanket over her, making air waft onto her face.

“Sorry I smell,” Kinoaveh said, joining her under the combined blankets, “there was no way to wash.”

Though her nose wrinkled from the stench of sweat and what must be sex, Mantis said, “That is the least of our worries.”

“True enough,” Kinny replied, holding her close.

Mantis soon realised that her loyal friend and servant wore no clothing at all.

Kinoaveh must have felt her tense because she said, “I had to strip bare, but luckily only their leader wanted my body tonight.”

The High Princess of the Realm forced herself to relax, remembering how the two of them had often enjoyed the pungent baths warmed by lava flow, comfortable in their nakedness.

“We will be warmer and safer together,” Kinny said. “May you have happy dreams, Princess.”

“Thank you.” Even while Mantis welcomed the warmth and companionship, she could only let her body feign sleep.

She would never forget the black-feathered arrow that crippled her Celadon’s horse which fell into the forest path. A heavy club hitting the guard’s head kept him from getting up if her bodyguard ever would rise again.

Only about a mile from the castle, these brigands blocked any forward progress with their three stallions and soon dragged Kinoaveh from her mare.

The knife at Kinny’s throat made Mantis acquiesce though her friend was shouting, “Ride home! Ride home!”

Mantis felt the sting of tears as she listened to Kinoaveh’s soft breathing. Maybe she should have ridden hard and summoned help for Kinny. But even in that moment, she had been sure that one of the stallions would catch up with her mare, so what was the use of trying to escape?

***

Kinoaveh let a smile bend her lips in the darkness when she felt the somewhat warmer body of High Princess Aramanthis loosen into actual sleep.

Without a doubt, getting captured within the expected safety of being near home had challenged Mantis greatly.

But Kinny knew the princess was resilient, not only by blood but by training. Any royal had to be prepared for anything. The history of their legacy proved how necessary that was.

She could imagine the beginnings of uproar and confusion at the castle, how it would focus once the rider dispatched to trace the predictable path that Mantis and herself rode returned at speed with bad news.

Out of breath, probably met by the Crowned High King himself at the drawbridge, the man would kneel and report the absence of High Princess Aramanthis and her companion Kinoaveh and that the tracks of both mares seemed to vanish only about a mile from the castle. Neither horse seemed to have gone lame or thrown a shoe or anything ordinary that could have caused delay.

Kinny frowned as she thought of the High Queen receiving the news, probably informed in the midst of dressing for the evening meal. Her calm, usually pleasant features would freeze. She would dismiss the bringer of news with an abrupt wave of her hand. Then, alone with her companion, the Queen would most likely have given way to floods of silent tears.

Kinoaveh knew, partly because the Queen’s companion was Kinny’s mother, that compassionate support would be offered, hopeful words spoken, and some golden wine poured into the High Queen’s goblet.

This still bothered her, though, that the High Queen’s peace was shattered by the abduction of her only daughter.

But then, omelettes cannot be made without cracking some eggs.

The High Queen would not fall apart, at least not with Kinny’s mother at her side.

Staring into the darkness, Kinoaveh heard one of the men sleeping below begin to snore. Someone else cuffed him awake. A grumbling exchange lapsed into silence.

She smiled, recognising Ardlyn’s voice though she could not hear the words.

How passionate the Captain had been earlier. Kinny liked the idea that he needed her so very much. Maybe tonight Ardlyn had planted the seed of their first baby.

Their whispered conversation afterwards reassured her that she was completely included in his plan. He even liked one of her suggestions.

Of course, Kinny would never admit to Mantis that she had wanted the Captain as much as Ardlyn wanted her. She must act the role they decided on beforehand.

A little frightened was how she appeared, but bearing up and able to support Mantis to some extent. Important not to pamper the princess too much. The time for pampering had ended.

Carefully, Kinoaveh extricated her limbs from embracing Aramanthis so that she could lay beside her instead. She licked her lips, remembering how the Captain devoured her with kisses and soon was plunging into her like a stallion taking a mare.

If a baby already grew inside her, would it be a boy or a girl? Or maybe twins? One of each would be best, Kinny decided as she drifted into sleep.

***

Captain Ardlyn paced the dark interior of the barn to leave through the smaller door and go out into a blustery night. He could hear the creak and rustle of tree branches being pestered by the wind. Looking upwards, his sharp eyes could not locate a single star. The dark of the moon blessed treachery and stealth. Under cloud cover, even better.

He inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh air after the staleness inside the barn. Tracing the scar that ran from his left ear toward his chin, Ardlyn basked in a double satisfaction. Firstly, his plan going perfectly. Secondly, the hot welcome Kinny gave him despite her murmured protests in case High Princess Aramanthis could hear them up in the loft.

In the darkness, he had imagined the Princess under him, plunging into her to steal her precious virginity and plant a rebel seed. Ardlyn nodded to himself. Her hands might claw at him as she called him Scarface and threw whatever feeble insults she could. Soon bored with her protests, he would slap her privileged face and invade those chaste lips with rough kisses until she began to whimper for more.

The snap of a twig breaking nearby brought him to full alertness, left hand on the hilt of his sword.

The low hoot of a lesser owl, a bird not usually found in this forest, reassured him before he sensed the shadow approaching.

“What news, lad?” Ardlyn asked, then listened to the breathless report. The trail, obscured by this rebellious lad, undetected. The guards at the castle acting like a heap of stinging ants when their nest is disturbed. The shouting of the King. The absence of the Queen who kept to her chambers.

“Well done,” the Captain said. He grabbed the lad’s shoulder to pull him close and murmured praises in his ear before rewarding him with a kiss that promised more. Cheaper payment than any coin and bound the lad to him much more strongly.

“Get back as soon as you can,” he instructed. “They must not discover they have such a bold rebel in their midst.”

“At once,” the lad agreed and slipped away into the night.

Ardlyn frowned. Missed opportunity to take him up against a tree, but best not to indulge desire too often. Keep the lad always eager for more and unsure of being rewarded, so he would work harder for the Rebellion.

Besides, his men both worshipped him if he needed that sort of release. With Kinny secretly on their side, the Captain anticipated finding opportunity during their journey. He knew for a fact that taking Kinny when they could hear everything would have sharpened their appetites with jealousy.

***

High Princess Aramanthis was caught in the snare of a bad dream that dragged her through the familiar rooms of the castle. Cobwebs and dust covered everything, the only inhabitants being spiders weaving their intricate webs.

Mantis felt relieved when Kinny called her to wakefulness. Then, however, the musty smell of hay and the cold creeping through the edges of the coarse blankets reminded her where she was. “Castle of ghosts,” she said, referring to the bad dream which had haunted her since childhood. “I almost would rather be there than here.”

“Take care what you wish,” Kinny said, “things could be much worse.”

The day soon became intolerable.

Mantis kept her composure while sitting on a mounting block in her underwear as the scar-faced leader used his knife to roughly saw away her long, beautiful tresses, though her throat felt choked with tears. Only the edges of her hair had ever been trimmed as the full glory was meant to cloak her shoulders and cascade down her back on her wedding day. Her mother would be so disappointed.

When Scarface walked away, another of the men threw some peasant clothing to Mantis. She felt so cold and miserable that she beckoned Kinny to help her into the garments. “What have they done with my clothes?” she whispered.

Kinoaveh, who already wore peasant clothing, only shrugged. Had Scarface taken her to satisfy his vulgar desires again earlier this morning? Usually, Kinny was not so moody.

Mantis watched as a man smeared mud on her beautiful mare, no doubt to disguise the distinctive markings while another used a knife to ruin the decorated mane and tail. She wished her mare would kick them, but she was trained to stand obediently.

After Mantis climbed the stone steps to mount, the leader barked a command. One of the men came over and bound her waist and wrists then fastened the end of the rope around Kinny’s waist and wrists.

Nobody would be making an escape today, it seemed. She could easily imagine the rope snaring around a sturdy tree trunk, making one or both of them fall to the ground as the horses ran onwards.

The lumpy journey bread she had managed to eat sat heavily in her stomach as they began to ride away from the barn.

Mantis glanced over her shoulder, trying to find some detail she might remember later. The only thing she noticed was the clumps of her hair scattered on the ground.

The back of her neck felt cold. She looked forward at Kinny who was riding in front of her. Normally, when the path allowed, they rode side by side.

Maybe Kinoaveh, under that calm exterior, was as frightened as she was and, like her, would never admit to being afraid.

***

Blood silently shouted from the crumpled clothing once worn by High Princess Aramanthis.

As if merely discarded, the garment lay on the marble floor not far from the double throne.

Right shoulder so at least not anywhere near her heart.

Hopefully too high to involve a lung.

Torn also, but no point mending. That blood stain will never come out.

Thank goodness this was not one of her elegant gowns, just riding clothes.

Could cut out the blood stained parts and make useful rags of the rest.