For those of you who were wondering about Iris and Roan, you should give them more credit-- they're smarter than you think. By the way, what makes you think that Jerrold really IS the prince? Maybe he's just a shady kid.
Chapter Four
I soon felt bad about the way I'd treated everyone. Not bad enough to apologize, oh no, but to at least make conversation. After all, if I was going to spend time with these people I barely knew, I was going to have to make an effort to get along with them, and keep my anger to a minimum.
"Does someone want to explain the revolution to me?" I said bluntly. "I still haven't got any idea of what's going on."
Roan looked at me, his blue eyes expressive. He knew I was trying make an effort and behave more appropriately.
"Well," he began, "King Ludwig and Queen Drusilla have been some of the worst sovereigns in Kyrria's history. They tax the absurdly and ignore the needs of the people. They spend the kingdom's money frivolously, building unused palaces and having balls and parties," he said darkly.
Jerrold spoke up. "They also discriminate against nonhumans. Elves, giants, gnomes-all of their craft work is banned from Kyrria's markets. Their homes are burned, their livestock stolen, their fields destroyed by those who believe the royal propaganda. They needed to be stopped, so a bunch of men got together and recruited the boys as well as other men, and started a revolution campaign," Jerrold explained.
Roan shrugged. "It's not going so well in Jenn. The people are just too loyal there. But in Bast we have some supporters, and in Frell I saw quite a few men with red lined capes," he said. "Men who have red lined capes are revolutionists," he explained.
"I know," I said. Pausing, I thought for a moment. "So we're going to Ayorthia to gain support from another kingdom?"
Roan and Jerrold nodded. "We're traveling as two brothers and their wives," Roan said.
I glanced at Jerrold. "My husband?" I asked.
Jerrold grinned. "My darling wife!" he said, laughing.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It could be worse…
~*~
That night we arrived in a large town called Frottica on the Kyrrian border. We'd been in that carriage for hours, and my legs were desperate to move. I didn't care where we stopped, I just needed to get out of that carriage.
We found a place to stay that night; an inn called The Bird's Nest Tavern. Roan went in first, to arrange for our rooms, and then came back out, nodding at the horsemen to unload our luggage. Roan opened the door of the carriage and helped Iris and I out. Wrapping Iris's arm around his, he glanced at Jerrold and I. I gave Jerrold a look, but he just gave a nonchalant shrug and hooked my arm around his.
As we walked in, Jerrold whispered in my ear, "Walk more regally. You're the wife of an important man."
I stuck my chin out and stubbornly ignored him, because I didn't know if he was joking or not.
The tavern was dirty and loud, with unkempt men and women holding mugs full of ale. I saw people's eyes lingering on Jerrold as we turned the corner to go up the stairs. Is he really an important man? Why would he say that to me?
When we reached the end of the hallway, Roan handed Jerrold a key, and pointed to the door across the hallway.
"That's your room," he said. Jerrold walked towards the room, opened the door, and stood in the doorway. Roan turned to walk into his room, where Iris was standing, waiting.
"Wait Roan-," I said, "where am I to stay?"
He turned towards me, trying to hide a smile. "With Jerrold," he said simply.
My jaw dropped. "What? Why?!" I cried.
"He's not evil, Daria," Roan said. "And you're supposed to be married. Now go." He pointed to the room.
I stomped through the door, and sat huffily on the bed. The room was simple and sparse, with a bed, night tables, screen, wardrobe, and a small table with two chairs. Our trunks were at the foot of the bed.
I glared at Jerrold, who looked as though he was trying not to laugh. "Am I that bad?" he asked good-naturedly.
I flopped backwards angrily and heard the door open, and close. I dozed off lazily.
When I awoke, Jerrold was sitting at the table, with two steaming bowls and two mugs of what looked like cider.
"Welcome back," he said. "Are you hungry?"
Still groggy, I nodded and sat down across from him. He nudged a bowl and mug towards me. I sipped the cider. It was warm, and the heat spread through my body, thawing me and my rude attitude. In the bowl was stew, with beef, potatoes, and carrots, with a piece of hardy brown bread.
I wolfed down the meal like a starving child. Jerrold looked at me, surprised. His face was comical, with his eyes wide in shock and his mouth hanging in a slack smile.
"Please excuse my rude manners, kind sir," I said, battling my eyelashes ridiculously.
Jerrold laughed, playing along. "Oh of course, my good wife," he said. He pulled me to my feet and spun my around, then dipped me, pretending to dance. We started laughing and fell onto the bed. Suddenly realizing what it looked like we were doing, we sat up quickly and somberly.
"What time is it?" I asked him.
"About nine-thirty," he replied
I walked to my trunk. "I should get dressed for bed," I said. He nodded in agreement. I took my nightdress behind the screen and struggled to take of my dress, but finally got it off and my night dress on.
"Are you decent?" I called over the screen.
"Yes!" Jerrold shouted back.
I walked out from behind the screen to see Jerrold sitting cross-legged on the bed. I grabbed both our mugs and sat on the bed with him.
"Where did you grow up?" I asked. I was curious to know about him, ever since Iris and I discussed him.
Jerrold frowned. "You don't want to know," he said.
"Oh, yes I do!" I cried. "Pray tell me!"
"All right, fine," he said. "I grew up in Frell; near the palace."
"What was it like? Had you ever been there?" I pried.
"No," said Jerrold quickly. "I'm tired; let's go to bed."
"Why didn't you want to tell me that? What was so bad about it?" I asked.
"Nothing. Never mind," he replied, blowing out the candle.
We both lay in bed, both physically and mentally as far apart from each other as possible. Soon, we both fell asleep.
~*~
A shout jolted me awake that night. I lay in bed, and heard the yells and barks get louder, and closer. I sat up quickly and turned to Jerrold, shaking him violently.
"Jerrold! Jerrold wake up!" I whispered loudly.
He sat up slowly. "What?" he asked, his eyes still closed.
"Do you hear that?" I asked. We were silent for a moment, as the cries of the men filtered through the walls. Jerrold became immediately alert and rolled off the bed and ran quietly to the window. I followed him and looked out. There was a mob of angry men banging at the door of the tavern. They seemed to have a few torches, and it looked like many of them had swords. Their angry faces were illuminated by the fire.
There was a loud thud as the tavern's door fell backwards.
"Get behind the bed, Daria," Jerrold said. He went to his trunk and pulled out a sword.
"Why?" I asked.
"Just do it," he said forcefully.
I stood behind the bed as I listened to the men pound up the stairs. There was more shouting and yelling, some banging, and then an eerie silence that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
A bang on our door made me jump.
Jerrold opened it cautiously. Two greasy men stood at the doorway, dressed in dirty tunics. They pushed past Jerrold to stand in the middle of our room, as more men flooded to stand at the doorway and peer in. One of them walked around our room, inspecting, and the other stood near the bed.
"What be your name, boy," the first one said to Jerrold.
Jerrold stood tall. "We've no business with you," he said strongly.
In one smooth motion, the second man leapt over the bed, grabbed my elbow, and twisted it behind my back. He held a knife to my throat. Jerrold made a move towards me, but the first man blocked his way. I stood with the knife at my neck, half terrified, half furious.
"I said," the first man yelled, "what be your name!"
Jerrold glanced at me, struggling with the ugly man threatening my life. "My name is Robert Lexington, and this is my wife Meghan," he said slowly.
"I see," the first man said, looking at me. "Well… do you know these two?"
All of a sudden, someone pushed Roan and Iris into our room. Both were gagged, and their hands tied behind their backs. Roan's eyes were strong and alert, and Iris looked solemn and strong.
I stifled a scream. Roan! Iris! What do they want with them…? I looked at Jerrold, who stood stone-faced staring at them.
"No," he said plainly. "I've never seen them in my life."
The first man looked at me. "Is this true?"
"Yes," I said as firmly as possible. The man's grasp on me had grown slack, and I wretched myself away from him.
One of the men in the hallway kicked Roan's back, and he fell painfully onto his knees. I saw him shake with anger, his eyes closed to hide the rage within them. Iris was staring at him, helpless.
"Very well," said the first man. "So sorry to disturb you, good sir, lady," he said, sarcastically, sweeping a mock bow. Two men grabbed Roan's arms and pulled him to his feet, and them roughly out of the room. Another man picked up Iris and threw her gruffly over his shoulder.
The men walked out of our room, slamming the door, and we heard them leave the tavern, chanting "take the traitors to the king!"
I stood, shaking with anger and fear, in the middle of the room.
"Get dressed," Jerrold said insensitively. "We're leaving- now. Put on your simplest gown, and pack your finest in my bag. We'll reach Ayorthia by a different route."
I didn't move. "But… but what about Roan and Iris?" I said slowly.
Jerrold shrugged. "They'd want us to keep going," he said.
"So we just leave them?" I said, raising my voice.
"No," said Jerrold calmly. "We'll rescue them once we get the support of Ayorthia. It'll be easier that way."
I clenched my jaw. "They won't become martyrs, Jerrold. I won't let that happen," I growled.
Jerrold grabbed my hand. "Nor would I, Daria," he said seriously.
I pulled my hand away. Jerrold walked to the door and put his ear up to it, listening. I changed into a new outfit behind the screen. It was very common; I wondered why Iris packed it for me. It was a dirty white peasant blouse, a blue corset top, and an ugly black wool skirt. I shoved a blue gown into Jerrold's bag, hoping it was formal enough. Jerrold threw me two wool blankets, and I packed that too.
"We can't go out the front door," he said. "Some of the men are still there, drinking. It wouldn't be safe."
"So how do we get out?" I asked.
Jerrold threw open the window. "It's not to far down," he said, sticking his head out. "We can use the stones as steps."
Turning and looking at me, he shook his head. "No, we can't do that. You can't climb, especially not looking like some tavern wench," he said, eyeing me with a smile on his face.
I scowled, excepting his challenge. "I'll be fine," I said rudely. "Let's just go."
Jerrold sighed a fake sigh. "Okay, I'll go down first. When I reach the ground, toss down the bag, and then you come down," he said firmly.
"What if you fall?" I asked.
He grinned. "I won't," he said, climbing out the window.
I watched him go down. He moved him quickly, almost like he'd done it before. He was very nimble-footed. When he reached the bottom and looked up at me, he signaled for me to toss down the bag. Carelessly, I tossed them out the window, and stuck my head out to look down.
Jerrold was doubled over, holding his stomach. The bag was at his feet. I'd hit him in the stomach.
"Sorry!" I called down quietly.
He waved aimlessly at me. "Just come down," he wheezed.
I climbed through the window, my mind clouded with images of the last time I'd "escaped" a room. I navigated my way down relatively quickly, not realizing how close I was getting to the ground.
All of a sudden, I felt an arm around my waist, pulling me backwards. I fell into Jerrold's arms, and he twirled me around, and placed my feet gently on the ground.
"What did you do that for?" I asked angrily.
"Didn't you tell me you wanted to be the damsel in distress?" he said seriously, hiding a smile.
I slapped him across the face. "Don't mock me," I said furiously. "You know I could have done it myself."
Jerrold stood there, shocked, holding his face. He looked as though he couldn't decided whether to laugh out loud or hit me back. So he just turned on his heel, holding his bag, and grabbed my hand. He started to walk towards the woods. We walked towards a warm, glowing light that turned out to be a clearing, with a small barn in the center. An old man sat in a chair, whiskey bottle in his lap, passed out.
Jerrold walked briskly into the barn, while I stood impatiently outside. He came out leading two horses. He climbed on top of the black one and tossed me the reins to the other one. It was a black horse with a few white markings on the feet and head, and a large white stripe across his stomach. I struggled onto the saddle, glaring at him to comment.
"His name is Torlin; mine is Merlin," was all he said. "Follow me."
We rode quietly out of the clearing, and into the forest, where we broke into a steady gallop. We rode and rode, for a day straight, until my legs and bum were were and my legs were rubbed raw from the saddle. We ate nothing, drank nothing, spoke of nothing. The only thing we heard was snapping twigs and the click of the horse's hooves.
It'd been almost twenty-four hours after I'd last slept, and I was finally having trouble keeping my eyes open.
"Jerrold," I said. "Can we please rest?"
He nodded. "Of course. I hadn't realized you were as tired as I am," he said.
We stooped at the edge of a meadow, and hid the horses in a thicket of bushes and grass. Jerrold pulled two blankets out of the bag, and tossed one to me. Using my bag as a pillow, I laid down, facing the sunset, wondering about Iris and Roan and their well being.
Another exciting chapter (or at least I think so). You know what to do- Review Review Review!!