The Count's Daughter
By: Stubby the Newsgirl
Chapter 2: The Chase
Amalia had raced quite far, following the hoof-prints of the four horses until she reached the green entrance of the fire swamp.
"What shall we do now?" Shall we follow them into the swamp?" Amalia asked out loud. Faerie's Whip snorted in objection and Calliope, peeping from the saddlebag barked her defiance.
"I agree, but what must we do now?" Amalia cried out. Both animals looked at her questioningly.
"Oh, fie on you! FIE!" Amalia shouted out spontaneously to the Princess' captors. Faerie's Whip jumped back and Calliope ducked back into the saddlebag.
"What now?" Amalia thought. Then, like a beacon in the dark, logic shined on her stupidity. "We shall go around and continue following them!" she finally concluded bringing Faerie's Whip into a steady gallop.
As they reached the other side of the fire swamp, Amalia was perplexed to find no hoof-prints anywhere.
"Perhaps they didn't make it…" she said aloud, but she could not trust the judgment she had made. She could never be satisfied until she knew her father's death had been avenged. She decided the only thing to do was to wait until they came out. IF they even came out. She dismounted Faerie's Whip and led the mare behind the brush of the forest so they would be hidden. Faerie's Whip grazed silently as Amalia tried to decide what she had to do next.
"When they come out, I'll draw my sword and then… well, then what?" Amalia spoke to herself as she reached for the sword she had packed in the saddlebag. "I should say something, like-"
Just then, Calliope jumped out of the saddlebag and barked loudly.
Amalia dropped the sword in fright, then saw Calliope and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, hush!" Amalia scolded the dog then reluctantly sat down. She was quite embarrassed even though no one had seen her. Calliope whimpered, then crawled under Amalia's arm to be pet. Faerie's Whip, feeling rather neglected, lay next to Amalia and laid her head into the maid's lap.
Amalia looked up to the sky. Though it should have been very dark since it was so late in the night, they were bathed in the light of the moon. Amalia spotted Cassiopeia- it had been her mother's favorite constellation. Amalia's mother had shown it to her long ago before she had died. Her mother- Beatrice Norland- was always a happy woman, even while she was suffering through the pneumonia that eventually killed her. Amalia's memory of her mother was always with laughter, singing, and joy. She knew that the marriage between her father and mother had been arranged, but her mother never seemed to show any discontent from it. Her father, however, often expressed his distaste to being married to such a "foolish" woman. He considered her quixotic behavior a disgrace to the name of the Rugen's. She loved her mother more than anything else in her life. As for her father, she wasn't quite sure where her feelings lay. Her father had always been a very cold, unaffectionate stranger to her, but still it was her obligation to find his victor and kill him. For the first time, Amalia realized that she was an orphan. Technically, she wasn't a true orphan. After all, she was twenty years old- more than two years from the coming of age. She was an adult, but she still felt like an orphan. Wearing the suit of a pageboy from when her cousin was only of thirteen years didn't make her feel any older.
"How am I ever to defeat the Spaniard if my father couldn't?" Amalia questioned herself until she drifted to sleep against the chestnut mare and held the small dog for comfort.
*-*-*-*
As the sun rose over the coast of Florin, four white horses with four, very unusual looking riders passed quickly and quietly, unharmed, out of the fire swamp and towards lands where they would be free from the terrible reign of Prince Humperdink.
*-*-*-*
Amalia opened her eyes, slowly as the sun began shone brightly. "It was never this bright in the mornings!" she thought as she sat up abruptly.
"Where am I?" she cried aloud.
Faerie's Whip got up to her feet and whinnied, Calliope barked incessantly, and Amalia recalled the details of the previous night. She quickly came to her senses, readjusted what needed to be readjusted, tucked Calliope and the sword into the saddlebag, and observed the new tracks that had been left.
"BLAST! FIE!" Amalia cried as she mounted Faerie's Whip. "We're about an hour and a half behind them! Giddy up! Quickly! You must run faster if I'm to save the Princess and kill that Spaniard!" Amalia said to the mare.
Faerie's Whip was not a stupid animal; she understood her rider's command, for she ran as though the most carnivorous creatures imaginable were chasing her. They followed the track until they were out of the forest. Once the darkness of the forest had left them, Amalia realized that the tracks were leading towards the Bridge of Walton. Amalia knew the bridge very well from all her escapades with Demetri. She would beat those villains if it were the last thing she'd do.
"This way, Faerie's Whip! I know a short cut!" Amalia commanded as she directed the mare the opposite direction of the prints.