The Unimaginable
by Zenin

0

"There are some things you just can't imagine…"

0

I touched a melted icepack to my aching head, stifling curses as the stinging sensation bit into my skin. I could only heal myself so much, you know. I wasn't fantastic at it either. No practice.

Huh. Talk to the Rogue, I had told myself. He'll help you! Why, even your father was friends with the Rogue. Why wouldn't the Rogue want to be friends with you?

Maybe because I insulted her and then lost it when I found out she was a girl.

Mother always said I was a bright boy.

Speaking of Mother…

The door opened and she swept in, the room immediately lightening with her sweet smile. "Roald, you did not dine with us tonight. I –"

She broke off quickly and her hand slipped out to tilt my chin up. Her face paled. "Roald! What happened to you?"

Oh, well, it's like this, Mother. I went to the bar…yeah, you know, the notorious Dancing Dove, official den of thieves and spies. Yes. And the ale wasn't particularly all that good, but I met this girl and she turned out to be the Rogue and she beat the bloody hell out of me.

Why'd I go there in the first place?

I forget. Brain damage, you know.

"I fell," I said calmly. How original.

She eyed me suspiciously for a moment, then sighed. "You need a healer," she said briskly. "Let me just –"

"No!" I cried, jumping to my feet. Mother stared at me.

"I mean, no thank you. I can take care of it, Mother. It's just a bump."

"You should at least have some ice on it," she said firmly.

I shrugged helplessly and watched as she swept from the room. My sweet mother. So caring, so coddling, so completely like a strait jacket.

A chill breeze swept the room in a sudden gust. I shivered and went over to shut the window. I don't know how it had gotten opened. Had Mother opened it? Normally, I really do not like drafts…

"So what exactly are you planning, anyway?"

The soft voice startled me. I slammed the window shut and spun to face the girl sitting comfortably in my chair.

The Rogue was flipping a small knife in between her fingers, looking very bored. The knife whirred from slow, to faster, becoming a blur of shining metal –

"Well?" she said impatiently. My mind snapped back to the present.

"Um," I began elegantly. "Well…"

It seemed to easy to put into words earlier. "I'm going to abdicate the throne," I blurted.

She raised her eyebrows, delicately questioning. "Don't be stupid," she said finally. "You aren't even on the throne. Yet."

I swung around and stared moodily out the window, my temper getting the better of me. "You know what I mean," I muttered. "I'm not fit to be King. You even said so yourself. I need to find a new heir to the throne –"

"Your sister," the Rogue said calmly. "Now, was that so hard?"

"You and I both know that my sister has already been chosen to be queen of the Carthaki Isles. If I abdicate – or whatever – that would automatically give the throne to the Carthakis, through my sister, and then the country of Tortall would be dissolved into the Carthaki Empire." I ran a hand through my hair. "It's not as easy as it looks."

"Actually, it is," she said. I turned to her.

"Suck it up and be the King. I mean, you certainly won't be the best – gods, just look at you – but you won't be the worst Tortall has ever had. Now, if you'll excuse me…your Highness."

Just look at you. Yes, just look at me, I thought bitterly. The pampered prince of Corus, heir to the throne of a fickle bastard. It stung, her words, but what could I do? I turned from the window and bowed, gritting my teeth into a smile. "My lady."

Her hand paused on the handle of the door. She looked back, hazel eyes curious. "Just out of curiosity, how were you planning on finding a new heir?"

I smiled slightly, the irony of my plan touching me. "Through my father, of course."

She frowned. "You're going to ask him to get another heir?"

"Now look who's being stupid." I said smugly. "Ask him? Of course not. I'm going to try to find a son older than I who is suitable to take the throne."

Realization dawned. Her eyes widened with interest, while she tried to keep her dry, sarcastic façade going. "So, you're going to ride blindly into the countryside, calling out for any poor maiden the King used to come out and show you her sons?"

"I shall investigate into the various connections he made with the young ladies of the Court, and pay each lady a visit. It's called research, my lady. I'm sure you have heard the term before."

She ignored my jibe. "You'll need a disguise," said the Rogue, her eyes calculating.

"And a substantial distraction for the Royal guards," I prompted, watching her carefully.

She twisted a chestnut curl around her finger pensively. Finally, she glanced up at me. "Okay, Prince Perfect, I'll help." She held up a hand to keep me from speaking. "But only because I'd just love to watch you screw yourself up irreversibly."

I raised an eyebrow. "I suddenly feel so…warm inside. Your tender promises move me."

How she moved so quickly will forever be a mystery to me. I felt a stinging slap across my face – and then the window was open and my mother was standing in the doorway.

"Roald? Roald! Your face looks worse! It's beginning to swell!"

I held up a hand at her and touched my face gingerly. I could feel the swelling reduce as my healing gift took over.

Mother bustled around the room, her lips thin. "Well, if you do not want help, fine. Do you really want that window open?"

0

The following night was cool and dark. I made sure my sword hilt was covered as I slipped outside. The Rogue may have agreed to help, but I was determined to be prepared in case she had decided to pull out. Any glitter of metal should be covered to avoid being seen.

I had dressed myself in the most nondescript tunic I could find, a black one with silvery blue trimming. A dark cloak, spelled to keep out the rain completed my outfit. I tugged at the straps of a leather knapsack and strolled casually around the corner of the ramparts, heading for the stables. My horse awaited me there, already saddled and ready to ride with saddle bags loaded with food and flasks of water.

My ears picked up an unfamiliar sound. I quickly flattened against the wall, wishing my eyes would adjust faster to the darkness of the night. In the gloom, I heard a rasping sound.

It continued rhythmically for quite some time. I edged closer. A crumpled heap of blue was lightly snoring, its ham-like hand clutching a flask. A guard.

Despite myself, I grinned. The Rogue had followed through on her promise.

My horse whickered lightly at my approach. I stroked his elegant neck. "Adventure at last, Zephyr." He blew through his nostrils at the other horses in their partitions, each horse watching me with forward pricked ears. I shook my head, smiling.

"No nursemaids this time, old boy. We ride alone."

He seemed as eager as I to start our journey after that. I swung a leg over and nudged him into a slow walk out of the stables.

We were almost out of the gate when a sudden cry of alarm broke through the still air.

"Prince Roald's horse is missing!"

Good old Evan. Never slept on the job. The old horse-whisperer checked the horses every four hours during the night. It would be my luck that he chose this hour.

The shouts echoed oddly as I kicked Zephyr into a run. Then I realized it was no echo. The guards were galloping through the gate and after me.

Good job, Kate, I thought raggedly. Damn good job. Now I have a bloody troupe after me.

"Not if I can help it."

A slender shape on horseback veered out of the shadows of the surrounding forest. It raced towards the oncoming guards. I whipped around and focused on riding, breaking off from the main road and onto one of the many small trails that led into the forest.

A bright flash whitened my vision momentarily, accompanied by a resounding clap of thunder. Zephyr reared.

"What are you waiting for?" A quick hand grabbed the reigns of my horse and led us into a gallop again. "Fool!"

My eyes slowly adjusted. I blinked white spots from my vision, then ripped off a glove to touch a hand to my closed eyelids. Vision restored, I stared at my companion.

"Oh, no. You turn right around, my lady, and go home. This is not a trip for women."

She glanced at me from beneath her black headscarf, and fluttered her large hazel eyes prettily. "If you say that again within my hearing, I will break your arm." She turned to watch the path. "Besides, there's no way I'd miss the fun."

I knew there was no way she was thinking of picnics in meadows or laughter-filled parties at houses of nobility. She just expected me to screw up.

I yanked my reins from her gloved hand and rode ahead, glowering at the bleak forest landscape.

Well, a new chapter for this as well! Enjoy!