Anduskon's Princess

[Taylasha]

I leaned against a large oak tree at the edge of the clearing, trying to calm my frantic breathing. My lungs were on fire, and I had a bad cramp in one leg, enough that I wasn't going anywhere for a little while. I had a hand over my heart, and my head was killing me, probably from my little collision with a tree in the middle of the deer trail I was following. There was no one around except for the occasional noise of a small animal being pounced on, or the hooting of owls.
My little stroll in the woods under a full moon had seemed like a good idea. I was just getting some fresh air, right? At least, that was what the guards at the palace gate had thought. They had let me through with barely a glance. What could happen now?
At first, it had gone perfectly. Slipping through the palace gates had been so easy that I hadn't even considered other problems arising. I had seen several shy nocturnal animals, and for a long time, everything had gone exactly as planned.
My young tigerling, Tayla, bounded ahead, chasing the occasional raccoon or fox, and coming back tired and ready for a ride, slung around my shoulders like a freshly caught lamb. She came almost to my knees, and was twice as heavy as she looked.
"You're getting to big for this." I had told her, panting a little. The moon shone down like liquid silver, casting more than enough light to see by, and except for the occasional jump as a twig snapped beneath my boot, it was pretty quiet.
I had also heard a few noises that were neither me, nor any animals nearby, and I had been a bit unnverved, but assumed it was only a bit of wind that was snapping twigs and had almost forcibly removed the thought from my mind.
Then, it had gotten frightening. I couldn't get rid of the sensation of being watched. For a while, I had thought the darkness was getting to me, but it was soon obvious that it was much more than that. Behind me, the footsteps, that stopped when I did and continued at the same time. Even Tayla, with her normally carefree atitude torwards the world, began to get uneasy. Not to mention twigs snapped, leaves rustled, and the cries of startled birds were enough to give me a minor heart attack. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, and ran. The footsteps followed for almost two miles through the godforsaken forest, and I was close to giving out when I finally couldn't hear them.
I let my head fall back against the tree and heaved a sigh. I had finally managed to lose whatever followed me, and was finally regaining a measure of calm. I put a hand to my forehead, and felt the beginnings of a lovely black-and-blue bruise growing on my temple. I had hit the tree hard enough to get a concussion, so I guess I should have felt lucky that all I got was a bruise.
My head was throbbing, and I rested it on my hands to soothe it a little. The darkness I saw with my fingers pressed aginst my eyes was wonderful after squinting into the near-darkness for the better part of two hours, and I savored it. Tayla rubbed against my ankles, purring in concern.
I might have fallen asleep right there, but, suddenly, a twig snapped in front of me. I caught a low growl.
My head snapped up so fast that my neck cracked.
Slinking toward me, teeth bared, were a pair of hang-wolves. They were larger then some I had seen, about chest-high. These were neither sleek nor well-fed, as most hang-wolves were. They were about the sorriest-looking things I had ever seen. But I didn't spend much time feeling sorry for them. If it had been regular wolves, I would not have been half so worried. They are often more frightened of you than you are of them, and will not attack unless provoked. Hang-wolves, on the other hand, lived for killing, whether they needed the kill or not, whether the kill was human or animal. Hang-wolves will kill for play.
These two were stalking towards me, crouching to spring. I pulled a pair of long twin daggers out of my sleeves, and held them in an X over my chest, but couldn't help backing up a step away from the wolves, almost tripping over Tayla, who was hiding behind me.
They looked so.....deadly.
I aimed a swipe at the nearest one. It jumped, and, in the moment that I hesitated to pull back for another swing, clamped it's jaws around my wrist. I dropped the knife.
Blood welled up from around it's teeth, running in jagged rivulets down my hand to patter onto the leaf-littered ground.
"Argh!" I grunted. The wolf released me suddenly, it's teeth tearing ragged gashes in my flesh, backing away to join it's mate. My right arm now hung useless by my side, and I couldn't fend off two wolves with only a dagger, training or no training. Indeed I was already backed up so far that my back hit the tree I was standing in front of.
I remembered somethign my old teacher had told me once about fighting animals.
"Fighting humans, that's easy." he told me as we sat oiling leather scabbards and fencing gloves in the wooden hut that served as storage, seeking shelter from the pounding rain outside.
"What you should worry about" he continued, turning over the dagger sheath he was oiling, "is fighting something that can't be surprised by skill, can't be frightened, bluffed, or tricked into doing something, and has no sense of honor to appeal to when you're about to lose." he said. I had shivered. I knew better than anyone the sort of animals that Anduskon's harsh climate fostered. The scorching heat created a landscape where only the strong survived. Even in the forests that spread throughout the kingdom's northern areas, predators reigned. Among my own people, friends were a commodity that many could not afford. I myself could only make friends with those who were of my own "social standing." The women of my own status and age were far too concerned with their husbands safety, if they had them, and those that were not yet married were concerned only with aquiring a mate. I had found solace with the young men my own age, who, although they had been instructed to treat me with the utmost care, although many sunk to flirting shamelessly with me when I was with them, they treated me only as one of them. I was more than grateful for this kindness, even though more of them tried to prove themselves better than me than to include me. I expected no special treatment, and I got none.
The other hang-wolf lunged at me, and I swung a blow to it's stomach. This one landed, and the hang-wolf fell back, whining in pain.
One down, one to go. I thought. My wrist was bleeding heavily now; there was a puddle beneath it. It ocurred to me that the hang-wolf must have struck an artery for me to bleed this much, but for then, I concentrated on the task at hand.
I had bigger problems. Much bigger.
The hang-wolf that had wounded me was slinking toward me again, this time with every intention of ripping me to shreds.
What a time to be right-handed! I thought breathlessly. My left-handed swordwork was poor in comparison to my double work, or even my single, but right-handed work.
It lunged. I swung, but missed it again as it jumped just beyond my reach, forcing me to step forward to hit it.
The three-inch-long claws hidden in it's paws came forward, and I knew it was through playing with me.
before I could so much as twitch, it leapt, knocking me down. The deadly claws sank into the skin over my collarbone. I could hear Tayla give a tiny growl, and the wolf looked up long enough to swipe at her with a paw before returning to what it considered it's meal.
The hideous jaws before me opened wide, snapping for my head. I jerked away, but I only made it worse for myself. Instead of the swift, painless death I would have earned, the hang-wolf's fangs closed on my shoulder. I felt them break my skin, a white hot searing through every nerve, tendon, muscle, and bone throughout my body.
A cooling blackness invaded my mind, and I knew I was going to pass out. There was particularly painful flash, like the burst before a candle goes out, and I felt myself falling through a long tunnel. I remember only feeling relief, relief that the pain was at an end, relief that I would never have to endure this again in life.
Just before I blacked out, though, I saw something that puzzled me. I could not have heard, but the wolf above me unhinged it's jaw from around my shoulder, looking up as though listening. It turned then, and I felt a wondrous relief as it removed it's weight from my ribs, which I could feel cracking ominously.
That was my last sensationg before I slipped into the cooling blackness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Who do you think she is?"
"I'm not sure."
"She's a looker, though, isn't she?"
"For certain."
My brain would not work for me, the voices I heard made no sense, although I could tell that they should be close enough to hear, to understand. I was in an extremely bemused state, and only gradually did it occur to me that there was something remarkably like sunlight filtering between my eyelids.
I also became aware of a sense of many hours passing while I lay unawares, and of something important left undone.
I realized that there was something small and furry stretched out against my side.
I turned my head a little, although opening my eyes seemed to be beyond me, and felt the furry something move.
My eyelids were the weight of millstones and just as difficult to move, but I persisted.
I finally wrenched them open and saw Tayla's inquisitive face over mine. I tried out a small smile, and she returned it with an all-out grin, tongue lolling and sharp little teeth showing. Before I quite knew what she was doing, she bounded off, presumably in the same direction as the voices I had heard.
"Wha-?" I croaked. My throat was so dry I could barely speak, and my mind was fuzzy, as though I had a cotton shroud draped over it. I tried to swallow, but there was nothing left in my throat.
I put a hand to the ground to prop myself up, before memory hit me and I realized what I was doing. Of course, by then, I was halfway to my feet. Pain shot through my arm, ribcage, and shoulder like bolts of summer lightening. I slipped back to the ground, but it didn't stop for almost a whole minute, but it felt more like hours.
My sight was starting to go gray when the pain ceased. My head swam, and I remembered the black and blue bruise that probably spanned it about now. No wonder I was dizzy.
I took several deep breaths, grateful that it didn't hurt too much, before I tried again. This time I used a conveniently placed tree behind me to help me up inot a sitting position, leaning against it. It hurt much less this time.
I flexed my shoulder, testing. Once more I felt like I had a miniature lightening storm inside my skin, and I bit my lip so hard the skin almost broke. .
I wiggled the fingers of my right hand, the one bitten. It was difficult, but all the fingers moved, so I guessed nothing was broken. I couldn't see how bad the bite was; there was a clean white rag tied around my wrist, tightly enough that I guesed it was half the reason moving my hand was so difficult. There was another bandage around my shoulder, wrapped diagonally around my waist to keep it taut; the white cotton looked strange against the ebony black hunting leathers I had worn on my little hike in the woods. Fortunately for mending purposes, it was only a leather vest and trousers, with a black linen shirt worn underneath. The hang-wolf's teeth had only pierced the shirt. Oh, and my skin.
I thanked Eireny, patron of women, that I had decided I would need supplies for getting away from home. I had packed a couple of cloaks, a waterskin, and a few small loaves of traveler's bread I had filched from the palace kitchens. There was also a change of clothes and a small cake of white soap, not really necessary, but probably useful anyway, and of course my ever-present long daggers, even more useful. In the palace, women were forbidden to carry weapons, so, naturally, they all did, although they were extremely subtle about it, like my daggers, hidden constantly inside my sleeves, where even the most careful invader wouldn't look. Thinking about them, I checked inside my sleeve. They were gone. I couldn't really be surprised; if a stranger had saved me; they would probably have rather had me unarmed, at least for a while.
I looked around me and saw, to my surprise, my pack lying propped against a tree. My daggers were tucked inside the top. I noticed that one of the sheaths had been patched, and both of them had been oiled. I spent a lightheaded moment or two thinking how kind of them it had been before shaking my self harshly.
No time to be silly. I said to myself. Take a look around.
I sat in a clearing lit up by the russet leaves of autumn maples and the last glowing embers of a dying campfire. There were two more packs lying on the ground around the fire and two piles of tack lying on the ground.
I hadn't seen it before, which worried me. I knew every inch of woods for miles out side the palace on every side, preparation for what I had attempted last night.
I had a moment of panic as I pictured having been rescued, as I obviously had been, but by the guards of Selwyn castle, but calmed myself as I reasoned that guards, however concious of the state I had been in last night, or whenever it was, woultd have taken me back to Selwyn, if only so that I could be properly punished there. The thought made me shiver. And, no matter how little I had seen of the city outside, always going straight out to the forest beyond, this was not Selwyn.
There was no one around that I could see, but I could hear the occasional snap of a twig, and vague, distant voices which grew steadily louder until I could make out, if not every word, then at least the general outlook. From what I heard, they were discussing something that had to do with herbs, wounds, and blood, subjects that made me cringe, although more with a first impressioin than with squeamishness.
The I heard something that nearly gave me a heart attack.
"You know, I heard that they had another runaway down in Selwyn." said one voice. It was a warm and friendly voice, the kind that makes an instant friend of everyone who hears it.
"Did they catch him yet?" This second voice was cool, confident, self-assured, the way every unmarried male in court tried their best to sound. Apparently, some idiot of a woman had told them that women love a man who's sure of himself. Okay, I'll believe that. But most of them took it too far, becoming cold, uncaring. I had had enough of these approach me to mark them as something to avoid. This time, however, the voice was too naturally smooth to be the product of a deranged fad.
"Nope." continued the friendly voice. "I heard it from a maid who works in the palace. And hear what else... this one's a woman! Bet they have half the guard out looking for her."
"Must be pretty important, then. Any idea what rank?" asked the confident voice.
"No. They're keeping it all hushed up to keep the rumors from going wild. It's probably someone important."
I let my head slump back against the tree, heaving a sigh. So they didn't have wanted posters in every village with a reward for someone with my description. I wondered briefly what excuse they would use for searching for me. Maybe a kidnapping, although at least three guards had seen me walk out the gate of my own free will. Or, more likely, I had mysteriously dissappeared in the middle of a crowded room, which actually had happened once or twice, although not through kidnapping, but with a little help from a cloak I had bought from a strange old lady selling her potions outside the palace gates, and which was, incidentally, packed away in the little satchel sitting right beside me. It didn't make me invisible, exactly, but little more than the kind of moving shadow you glimpse out of the corner of your eye when you're not concentrating.
I passed a hand over my eyes. My head hurt; logical thinking was a chore. My mind was somewhere else entirely when an orange-and-black ball of fur hit me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me.
I hugged my arms to my ribs, which gave a weak cracking sound, until I could breathe again.
I looked up. Tayla hit me on the shoulder with a large paw, fortunately not the shoulder that was wounded, then started to give my face a thorough washing with her rough tongue.
"T-tayla!" I sputtered. "Get off me!" I pushed her off, again before remembering. My wrist burned, and I bit my lip against the pain, but I couldn't help gasping in through clenched teeth. I flexed my fingers again.
Grasping my wrist to ease the sting, I looked down to find Tayla watching me with such a worried expression that I laughed.
"Mow?" she sqeaked, making me laugh harder. It hurt, but she cut such a comical figure that I couldn't help it.
Her huge gemstone gold eyes looked up into my matching ones.
"So," I pretended to ask her, "Do you know where we are?"
"About forty-five miles east of Selwyn."
I turned my head so fast that my long black hair flew into my face, and I had to brush it out with my left arm, the one with a bitten shoulder, which hurt.
Standing at the edge of the clearing were two men who I identified as the owners of the voices I had heard a little while before; and it wasn't difficult to tell them apart.
The one who had spoken was the confident one.
He was watching me intently, in a way that made me want to look away; so I studied him through eyes half-closed.
He was tall, strong-looking, handsome, and dark, sort of like me, but with pale skin as opposed to my perpetual suntan.
It was his eyes that caught my sttention, though. They were grey, but not the soft gray of a dove's feather's, but like clouds over a stormy sea; almost silver.
The other was of average height, and that word pretty much described him; average. He was of medium build, with brown hair, blue eyes, and medium skin the color of wet sand, the kind common to most people of the lower rank in Anduskon.
Most of the upper class had skin so white they looked like china dolls, and stayed out of the sun in their well cooled houses. The women also were commonly stocky and, well, I hate calling them fat, so...plump. I had always stood out like a cat among dogs. I was much too slender and I had an easy grace, like a cat with it's claws unsheathed. I couldn't stop myself from attracting males, who took my retreats as an invitation to flirt, or worse. They were strong, but for most, that was all you could say for them. They had neither tact nor looks, nor the sense good horses were born with.
These seemed a little more intelligent, or at least, that was my first impression.
They led a pair of horses behind them; not especially fine animals, but bred for speed and toughness; the kind of horse that could go for days with only minimum amounts of food and water. It didn't occur to me to wonder why they didn't have any tack.
Tayla bounded away from me to pounce on the dark one's boots, growling in play. He crouched to tussle with her, and I guessed which one had been feeding her.
The kindfaced one, who was holding a light chestnut that almost matched his light brown hair, was still watching me with somethign like a mix of surprise and puzzlement on his face, as though he couldn't tear his eyes away from me. I looked away first, which seemed to surprise him.

[AshNight]

MEHHH! I want more! It isn't fair holding that peice up to my nose...please...
-puppy dog eyes-
I wanna read more...
-trembling lips-
I promise to be good...

huggles;
AshNight

[Taylasha]

I'm glad you like it. I totally just, like, envisioned this little place. So much more crammed into my head!
More coming soon.
Taylasha

[Taylasha]

I watched Tayla tussling with the dark one, who, although I could tell he knew I was looking, continued to dutifully ignore me. Tayla was still growling low in her throat, but not quite as interested as she had been at first.
She suddenly became bored, and turned back to me to sit down right next to my boots, facing the two men.
The dark one brushed a few black and gold hairs off his leather tunic, straightening. We sized each other up for a moment, his eyes moving over me in a cold, calculating way that made me want to slap him.
He finally looked away, and there was an expression on his face that I took for an odd sort of regret, but I didn't know him then well enough to tell. The silence stretched until I thought it was louder than any awkward conversation.
The dark one looked up at me again, this time his face was full of only innocent curiosity.
"Who are you?" we burst out at the same time.
I flashed a wry smile.
"You first." I told him. He gave an identically wry smile, though tinged with that same odd regret.
"Ayman." he said dully. I guessed that this was his name, although there was no inflection to say so.
"Ethan." said the other. I guessed that it fit pretty well.
"Kiana." I said before realizing how stupid it was. How many other people had that same name?
"Named after the princess, are you?" Ethan asked.
I was so relieved that I said, "Yes," much too quickly and loudly.
"Something like that." I amended. They exchanged odd looks, but didn't comment. I hoped for them to think I was just terribly confused, which, of course, I was. I wasn't named after the princess, I was the princess!
I was suddenly grateful that no one outside the city walls had any idea what I looked like. Unlike previous king's daughters, my father hadn't cared enough to take me with him when he went to review his "little peasant farmers", as he liked to call his subjects, which, in itself, was enough to drive me nearly insane. That, coupled with the fact that I was never allowed alone with anyone but Tayla for over three seconds was enough to trigger a three hour walk in the woods, which would begin with me raving to the silent trees of my father's latest greivances, and would end with me stalking angrily back to the palace and refusing to speak to him for days, even though I doubt he ever noticed, being much too preocuppied with important things like his next tournament. Yes, I know it sounds spoiled, but, I couldn't help it!
He made me so angry!