Nixiesocean: Yay! More reviewers! Does this mean this story isn't a flop?
Responses:
simplegrl007: Yep. I know, and yes, it is called fencing but the same stances can also be used in real fighting.
Da Vinci at Work: I'd hoped so! They're meant to be foils. Aram hotheaded and rash, Ade coolheaded and reasonable… At least up until this story began.
Emmanuelle H.: Yay! A sequel! It's meant to be amusing, the whole 'he doesn't love me, so I won't let him know it' is kind of cute. I already know how long it'll take them to figure it out. : ).
Bye bye, read and review!!!
Chapter 3: A Rough Night
I yawned. I had settled in my chair. Aram had tried to breach my walls many times, but I shut him out. Ceara was there, scribbling some runes into her diary. She had very nearly killed me when I tried to read it when we were eight. I don't now. It's impolite. She can have her personal space; I have mine, don't I?
"Is it sunset yet?" She asked quietly. She didn't speak loud unless necessary. I don't either, though lately I've spoken far more often than I normally allow myself. Ceara loosens my tongue!
I looked out the window. The sun was just turning red. "In, maybe, ten minutes. It's red." She didn't smile. I felt the touch from my brother again. "He's prying again," I muttered under my breath. I hadn't expected Ceara to hear, but hear she did. She gracefully got up from the chair and came over to me. She placed her fingers on my forehead. They were cool.
Immediately, the connection I shared – even a blocked one – was severed. It wasn't there, it was completely lacking! "Don't worry about it, Ade. It'll wear off in a day or so. By then, we should be far enough that the connection won't matter." She gave my head a playful slap and went back to write in her journal.
"Could you hand me a piece of paper?" I asked quietly. She handed me a piece of parchment. I sighed, "And a quill with an inkwell that isn't dried out?" The requested items were handed over. After trimming the quill, I started writing.
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I paced. How could I get Ade to speak to me again? I was just thinking about him when I felt something painful in my mind. I touched my head; it was whole. I shrugged and went back to pacing. Something was wrong. I realized what it was. Ade's mind – even blocked from me – had never truly been gone. It was now.
I was worried. What had happened? Had Ade gotten himself into trouble? I rushed over to his rooms. When I reached for the handle, I was stopped. I just couldn't move. No servants passed the halls. It bothered me. Why? Finally, the weirdness left. I opened the door. The window was open and a breeze was lightly flowing into Ade's room. I knew something was wrong.
Ade never opens his window.
Then I noticed the piece of parchment on the desk. I picked it up. It was written in a language, more a mix-up of letters than a true language, that we had made when we were kids.
Aram,
Don't be angry with me. I've left for good reason. I'm sorry for any distress I may have caused you and Mother. I won't tell you where I've gone, or why. Don't try Meg – she won't know. The only person who does know where I've gone is Ceara. She's with me. Translate this note if you wish – I'll be gone by then.
The severed connection will rejoin in a day or so, Ceara said. By then, we intend to be far enough away that our connection won't matter.
You're probably angry – and you have every right. Just know that I'll be safe.
Ade
That stupid, idiotic brother of mine! He ran off! The reliable, coolheaded one ran off! I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it. I looked down, in Common was a better-formed, curlier handwriting.
Prince Aram,
I've gone with Ade. Tell my parents, if you would. They'll understand. I'm truly sorry but we couldn't have you barging in on Ade when we tried to leave.
Ceara
P.S. Tell my parents "May-oo-ah-nay-ah". Or, if you can't pronounce that, show them this: "Mäunea"
In another, rune-based script, there was more. I couldn't read it, so I can't relay what it said.
I cursed my brother. Why'd he have to leave me with Mother's wrath?
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"Two riding horses, swift and light, if you would." I said. Ceara nodded. At the royal stables, I was in charge. The hostlers wouldn't doubt me, being a prince. If they though it unusual that "The Hermit" was requesting a horse, they didn't voice and opinion. Plus, they'd only remember that two messengers had wanted riding horses to deliver messages. It was to be out a long ways, so the hostlers needn't expect the messengers soon, Ceara would adjust their memories. I shuddered at the thought.
"Here ya go, Yer Highness." The hostler said. I nodded politely, mounted and we took off. Ceara had already worked their memories. They didn't wave – we were messengers after all; messengers for those who would fear a hero.
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He worries me. He's never been this driven. He's never been this… odd. He's never been so close to me before. Oh, Diary! When I requested to come along, he came over. He lifted my chin with a finger. He looked into my eyes. I truly wanted to reach over and kiss him. I didn't. He said, "I don't care. We're friends, right? Friends care for each other." He doesn't know how much that hurt me. I can't let him know. It would ruin our friendship.
I wish he loved me the way I love him! He's so nice, so polite, and so different from his brothers. Why can't he love me? What is so odd about me, that Ade remains indifferent from my "charms"? I don't want him for my face. I wish he'd love my soul.
Why can't he love me? Is it because I'm not a rich enough heiress? I want this trip to be more than him discovering himself. I want something to happen! I want excitement, adventure. What trip would be worth it without a sprinkle of romance?
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We stopped late in the night near a stream. The horses drank deeply. Ceara started to pull out a tent. I stopped, watching her. Even after a day's hard ride – which gave me saddle sores – she was still beautiful. She looked, aware that I had stopped pulling out the tent.
"What?" She asked. I blushed in the near-darkness. Yes, men can blush.
"I, um, don't know how to set up a tent." I grinned foolishly. I glad was she had come. She had camped out in the forests with her parents.
She laughed. It sounded so pure and beautiful. She was a kind soul. She was unlike the other women – different. "You, the prince of Furde, don't know how to set up a tent? What did you plan to sleep under? The stars?" I grinned foolishly. She sighed. "Well, then, let's get started."
She brought out thin metal strips shaped like arrowheads, "Stakes". She took five sticks of bamboo (very exotic, can only be afforded by the royal family). "Pole". She pulled the rest of the tent out and laid it flat, with the top, "canopy", upwards. She efficiently "staked" the tent down, three on each side. Then, deftly, she stuck the canopy's pole through the loops in the oiled fabric. I was amazed. She gracefully stuck the remaining four sticks through vertical loops.
I looked at the tent. It was a rectangular prism – we learned about it in Arithmetic last year – and a deep shade of green. Before I had begun to unload my things, Ceara had her tent set up. I grinned.
"You're good at this, you know." I told her while laying my bedroll on the forest floor. Though it provided shelter, the tent had no bottom.
"I've had practice." I heard her reply. "Besides, you'll be an expert in no time. No fires tonight, though."
"I thought I was the leader!" I teased.
"Sure, Leader, tell me that the next time you need help with your tent!" I poked my head out of the "tent flap" and stuck my tongue out at her. I didn't know she had such good night vision, because I heard her say, "And that is very immature!"
"What is?" I asked innocently.
"Sticking out one's tongue."
"Fine." I countered. "I'll remember that the next time you stick out your tongue!"
"What's for dinner, O Great Leader?" Her head appeared in the tent flap. "Your awesome Leaderness must have thought of something for our first dinner, no?"
"No…" I muttered. "I didn't think we'd be sleeping out on the first night."
"What?" I had obviously surprised her. "Goddess Ade! Where did you think we'd be sleeping?"
I blushed again. "An inn… or a hostel. Both provide food."
"A hostel!" She squealed. "We can't afford a hostel let alone an inn!"
"I can," I reminded her. "I took some silvers and coppers. We can find a money-changer to exchange some of my gold."
"Goddess, Ade, you know nothing about sleeping outside, do you? When was the last time you slept outside your own bed?" She tapped a foot on the ground; then held up a hand. "No, don't tell me. I fear for the answer." She rolled her blue eyes. "Well, I think I can scrounge up some food from the forest, don't you dare leave this tent. Wild animals are about."
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Is he always so ignorant? No, I shan't blame him. My mother and father intended for this type of thing to happen. They knew I'd have to leave the safety of a palace to find my own food. They prepared me for this type of thing. But, seriously, how can someone be so ignorant of a world? Moneychangers are all scammers! At least we'll have some sort of way to pay for food; Ade's silvers shall pass the tests. I shall forgive him, however, because without my parents' preparation, I may not have come. I would've let him run off by himself.
No, I wouldn't have. I know that, deep down; I'd have always come. If I love him near as deeply as I think I do, I would never have allowed him to be in such trouble. Diary, can you believe he's never pitched a tent? I had to teach him everything about it!
I had to go get fruits and vegetables from the trees and bushes today. The rabbits, although easy to scare, truly are helpful in finding berries. The squirrels brought me nuts and I dug up roots that are edible raw. I'll have to teach Ade how to find food for himself.
sigh Diary, when will he ask me? Maybe never, but I can hope. There's a flickering in his heart – Father's lineage to me – that I can see. Maybe he's learned how to guard it from me! Would that be so good? I'm not sure I'd like to see a human could guard his heart so well from a Dragon – though I love him dearly. It is not uncommon for a Dragon to have a Human consort – Queen Ilona was one for a month or so; though, not a full-fledged. Mother said she was never dishonored. I should hope not. That would prove mightily embarrassing for King Brennin. The fairy-tale pair was crowned last year when King Tristan and Queen Ditri grew too old (or so they said) for the throne. Mother thinks it is because of Queen Ditri's failing health. She is in her forties or near it.
In Auszin-Guen it is apparently okay for a royal to step down in favor of their heir. It isn't surprising. Although the Auszins loved their king and the Guenians their queen, they themselves still aren't on the best terms. The new king marrying a Furdian isn't the best way to calm the irritation. At least the two younger royals married Auszins and Guenians. I think they're stabilizing the new country. Shortly after Ade, Aram and mine birth, they – the king and queen of Auszin-Guen (then "Auszin and Guen") – joined it into the current country.
Enough of a history lesson, there isn't much more to say, Diary. I shall update tomorrow on our impending doom.
Just kidding. Ade will make a wonderful hero.
I just hope I'm at his side.
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I yawned. My sleep wasn't restful. I woke up too many times during the night with a branch, root or stone under my back. A bedroll is far different from down-filled coverlets and feather-stuffed mattresses. My back ached by sunrise when Ceara came to wake me. We had cold water, berries, roots and some fresh meat. I didn't question Ceara's foods. They were probably healthy anyways. I missed sweetmeats and puddings already.
We rode hard again. I still had saddle sores. Ceara stopped us early "to teach you the basic herbs and plants of a temperate forest". Whatever that meant. I just resigned myself to her as a teacher and diligently learned my herb lore. I kept getting woundwort (an antiseptic) and woodwort (a poisonous root). Ceara deemed me satisfactory for tonight.
"Now, go set up your tent while I watch." I mixed up the up side of the tent (since it was getting dark) with the underside, so after I staked it down, I realized I had to take out the stakes, right the tent and then continue. Ceara was laughing by the time I put the last stake in and was trying to find the canopy of the tent.
On the upside, I was so exhausted I didn't care that we had cold meat for dinner and dropped into bed.
A rough start, but more exciting than palace life, on that Ceara and I agreed.
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Diary,
I am trying to patient. He is thickheaded about plants and herbs, though I know he'll learn. I love the man so much. He set up the tent incorrectly – something his father did, Queen Katharine told me once, before she started acting all funny – and then kept getting woodwort and woundwort mixed up. I am extraordinarily glad my parents made me learn those plants. Imagine putting woodwort on a wound!
Anyways, he has saddle sores; I can tell by the way he walks. He refuses to admit he has them. He is such a brave man – though that gets in the way more often than it aids. I wish he'd ask me about some sort of ointment for the sores.