Chapter 5: Pursuit

A cold breeze blew through the silk dress, bringing uncomfortable chills to Alena's body. Shivering, she brought her arms closer, hoping to contain some of her body heat. She had no idea the elements could be so unforgiving.

Sometimes she would walk outside in the winter but the princess was always smart enough to dress in large, fur coats and have a servant carry a torch near her to give her extra warmth. Now, wearing nothing more than simple undergarments and a silk dress, the cold air was already giving her first test.

Alena gritted her teeth, pushing forward. She knew if she could not beat even this simple trial, she would not be able to survive the difficult challenges she was determined to test her strength on. If she could not handle the cold night, she might as well head back to the castle, her head bowed low in shame. Alena could not live with herself if it came to that.

As another blast of biting air flew through her dress, Alena silently cursed herself. Why could Brey not have told her of his plan before they went to the study? At least then she would have had the common sense to dress more warmly. A voice inside her head reminded her Brey had tried to warn her but, in her arrogance, she had not paid attention. Alena realized if she was going to be able to sharpen her senses for future endeavors, she was also going to have to be less arrogant.

The princess looked back down the road she was walking on, noticing the dim glow of the castle's lights over the horizon. It had not been a difficult task to get over the castle's walls and sneaking through the surrounding peasant houses was no problem at all. However, the adrenaline from her excitement was passing and Alena started to realize just how tired she was getting. After all, it had been past sundown when Brey had first arrived at her room. She figured a number of hours had passed since then.

She looked down the road in front of her and saw some village lights glowing. Alena did not know much about the farming villages surrounding Santeem Castle but she knew enough that the peasant population should be awed by her presence as the Princess of Santeem and allow her to rest somewhere. The princess quickened her pace, eager to get out of the freezing air and into a nice, warm bed.

"Well?" Cristo asked, walking forward.

"Definitely fresh footprints," the man said, studying the tracks in the soft road. "Judging from their imprint on the ground, they were made by someone with small feet and in a hurry. I'd say these tracks were made no more than an hour ago." He stood up, adding, "They seem to be heading east, towards the mountains."

"Are you sure they're the Princess' footprints?" Cristo asked. The last thing he needed tonight was a wild goose chase.

"The prints have a mark of nobility," the man explained, tracing their outlines. "See how light the imprint is? Normal peasants who walk this road usually leave deep impressions, sort of reflecting their moods. This light impression with small feet could only be made by a young woman in very high spirits. Unless a peasant girl just had a romantic encounter with a knight errant at the castle, I'd say that the Princess is headed in that direction." The tracker pointed down the road.

Cristo nodded approvingly. Reginald Schoet was indeed one of the finest scouts in the kingdom. It was said he could track a slime up to fifty miles, no easy feat since the tiny, timid creatures left hardly any trails.

The bodyguard looked behind him, checking on the rest of the search party. Flail, dressed in a dark, raven cloak, stood imposingly by the edge of the road, taking in each detail handed to him.

Flail was one of the most famous mercenaries in Santeem, having a reputation of showing no mercy when it came to bringing justice to thieves, muggers, and other low-life. His cold, stoic face seemed a perfect match for his notoriety. It was a stroke of luck on the bodyguard's part the mercenary happened to be at Santeem Castle when this crisis arose. Having him in the party probably increased their chances of finding the Princess three-fold.

Beside the mercenary stood Henry, Royal Hunter of Santeem Castle. Usually sent out by the King to hunt for wild animals for feasts, Henry would often go out on his own to hunt kaskos hoppers as sport. The giant insects, although easy to kill, were usually hard to find and often much too quick for normal hunters. Thus, their wings were considered great trophies for the local villagers. Henry had a good number of trophies in his home and was known to spin wild tales of each hunt.

Cristo had sparingly seen the reputed hunter, often only in the audience hall when he escorted Alena to her throne. Of the few times the bodyguard had seen Henry, the hunter always seemed to have his long bow on his back. Even now, he had his bow strapped to his back even though they were only hunting for the Princess. Cristo wondered if he even slept with the bow.

And then there was Brey, leaning on his crooked walking staff as the searching party stood by the road. The old tutor's expression still had not changed since they left the study. He remained expressionless, although not stoic like Flail. Brey had packed more than expected, bringing his spell book and a few changes of clothes. It seemed as though he was expecting the search to go on for several days.

"Where does this road lead to?" Cristo asked. He did not have a firm hold on the layout of the Santeem country, usually going only wherever Alena went.

"To a few of the farming villages," Henry replied. "Weser, Sant, and Serning, I believe."

"Knowing the Princess," added Flail, his voice deep, "she will seek shelter in one of those villages for the night. She is not one to remain out in the cold elements for long when warm food, fires, and beds are abroad." Cristo nodded in agreement. Flail was known to have a strange ability of getting to understand the behavior of the person he was tracking within minutes of learning who his prey was. His description of Alena fitted her perfectly.

"We should get a move on," Henry said, stepping forward. "The air feels like rain and the Princess' tracks will be harder to follow if they are washed away when the road turns to mud."

"Rain?" Cristo asked. "What makes you say that? It was only cloudy when we left the castle."

"Rain rolls off the mountains more often than it does in the field," Henry explained. "The way the wind is blowing to the west, I wouldn't be surprised if we got a quick, spring storm before the night is over. Look." The hunter pointed at the Santeem Mountains in the east. Even though it was night, Cristo could tell the sky over the mountains were filled with clouds, blotting out the stars. The faint glow of the moon's silhouette revealed their rapid, rolling descent from the mountains.

"How long do we have?" Cristo asked as he watched the nearing rainfall.

"I'd say about two hours, maybe three," Henry replied.

"Then we'd better get a move on," Cristo said, waving his hand. The searching party started to move again, towards the farming villages.

As they walked, Cristo fell towards the back of the group where Brey was hobbling on his walking staff. "Brey," the bodyguard said once he had fallen beside the tutor, "you were very quiet back there. You usually have something to add in every conversation. Is there something wrong?"

Brey looked up at Cristo, his face still emotionless. "Not really," he replied in an even tone.

"Come on, Brey," Cristo said, trying to push a little. "I know you better than that. There's more on your mind than just guilt, isn't there. What is it?"

Brey looked at Cristo for a while, his beady eyes hardly straying. Cristo tried to get a sense of what Brey was thinking but the old man seemed to have an invisible wall blocking any emotion. Finally, he muttered, "It's nothing you'd understand."

Cristo opened his mouth to argue, convinced the old tutor was hiding something, but decided to stop. It was probably futile to push forward as Brey seemed very closed off right now. Sighing, the bodyguard shrugged and quickened his pace, rushing forward to Reginald to discuss strategy.

Brey watched Cristo walk forward, his wrinkled face solemn. No, Cristo, you wouldn't understand, he thought. You'd never understand that Alena needs this. Heaving a heavy sigh, Brey continued to walk. He knew no matter the cost, he would have to get to the Princess first.

Alena rushed to a two-floor building, huddling her body close to protect herself from the increasingly cold wind. She had just felt a few drops of rain and did not wish to be caught in a sudden storm. Seeing how this was the only place with any lights left on, she figured someone inside was still awake.

The building was not very big but still the largest the princess had seen since she entered the sleeping village. The faint light emitting from the bottom window barely illuminated a battered sign swinging wildly on rusted rings in the cold wind. Weser Inn was simply carved into the sign's splintered frame.

Compared to luxurious inns Alena was used to staying at, the place could easily pass for their outdoor latrines. Still, so long as it had a warm bed, she could care less.

Slowly, Alena pushed the wooden door in, its hinges creaking in protest. She peered in, taking in any sights and sounds of the main room. It was a sorry setting.

Several, splintered tables filled the main room, wooden chairs lying upside down on the top. The chairs were in bad condition as well, several of them missing one or even two legs. Anything wooden appeared as though termites or rats had gnawed on them for some time.

The walls were for the most part faceless, although several stains were splattered across their surfaces. The stains varied in color and Alena had no idea where they could have come from.

Above all, a strong, alcoholic smell burned her nostrils and she wrinkled her nose. The strongest drink Alena had been exposed to was sweet smelling exotic wine. This stench had such a searing scent in it the princess could hardly breathe through her nose.

"We're closed!" a gruff voice came from the opposite side of the floor. Alena peered around the door to see a bar stand. Several stools lined it, some half-broken, some lying on the floor. Mugs and steins of many sizes lined the wall behind the stand, outlining a large mirror. On the other side of the counter, a large man stood with his back to the door. He seemed to be cleaning a stein out.

"This is an inn, right?" Alena said irritably, daring to step inside. She was not used to people ignoring her. She had expected some rough treatment from the local peasants but not outright ignorance.

"Yeh..." the large man slowly said, turning around. Alena nearly gasped. Never before had she seen such a hideous spectacle. The man was generally obese, although not completely overweight. His face was covered in a thin, rough beard and short, messy hair fell over his face. Grease stains covered his worn clothes, splattered randomly across a gray apron. The man's arms, exposed since his shirt was rolled up, held masses of dark hair down to his knuckles.

His eyes, though buried beneath rolls of flabby skin, seemed to light up when he saw the princess.

Despite her immediate revulsion, Alena had been taught some good manners and she promptly kept her mouth shut about the man's appearance. "I'd like a room," she said, crossing her arms. "You do have one available, don't you?"

"Yeh, sure do, ma'am," the innkeeper said, putting down the stein and wiping cloth. He seemed to stare at Alena and she felt a little uncomfortable having the large man look at her in such a manner. She was used to men admiring her simple, cute features but this man was sending out a strange sensation the princess was not used to. It made her want to recoil from him but she politely remained still.

The man hopped over the counter, landing on the floorboards with a loud thud which sent vibrations even to where Alena was standing. "Be jus' a minute," he said and the innkeeper rushed into a room off in the corner.

Alena stood still in the middle of the floor, afraid of moving and drawing unseen attention to herself. The smell of stale alcohol was even stronger inside and a lingering smell of vomit was present as well. She wondered if all peasant villages were this bad. If they were, she was more than happy to have been born into nobility.

Eventually, the innkeeper came back into the main room with a small book and a quill pen for writing. He set the book on the bar stand and pulled up a stool, promptly sitting down on it. "Then…" he said, looking at Alena. "Is it jus' you?"

"Yes," Alena said, keeping her place in the middle of the floor. She had no desire to be anywhere near the large man, guessing he smelled worse than he looked.

"That'll be three gold pieces, then," he said, holding out a large, dirty palm.

Alena stared at the man in disbelief. He actually expected her to pay to stay in such a rundown place. She figured he should pay her for even considering entering his inn. "Do you even know who I am?" she asked, hoping to shed some realization into the innkeeper.

He looked at her for a long time and Alena started to wonder if he was just taking the opportunity to get a better look at her body than to actually figure out who she was. Finally, he muttered, "Rich?"

Alena nearly sputtered in rage. "I'm the Princess of Santeem!" she cried, her face turning red in humiliation.

The innkeeper looked at her for a moment, then threw back his head and roared a tremendous, rolling laughter. Alena looked at him in disbelief, stunned anyone could be so ignorant.

"Haven't you ever seen me in the throne room?" she asked. It was difficult to be heard over the man's loud laughter, though.

"Nev'r been to the castle," the innkeeper said once his laughter passed. He returned to face Alena again and gave her a broad smile of yellow, rotted teeth. "Y' gonna pay or not?" he asked, his voice sounding more business-like.

Seeing she was not going to be able to convince the innkeeper of her identity, Alena sighed and patted her hip where she usually kept her money pouch on shopping trips in other cities. As she only patted her hip, Alena suddenly realized she had not brought any money with her. She looked at the man, a sheepish look crossing her face. "I...don't have any gold coins on me," she said quietly.

"Y' can't pay?" the innkeeper asked, rubbing his hairy chin.

"I didn't say that!" Alena quickly said, holding her arms up. She reached for the white feather hat she was wearing and held it out. "Why don't I give you this? It is quite an expensive hat, imported from the exotic Gardenbur country. I'm sure you could fetch a great price for this…"

"Tell y' what," the innkeeper interrupted, standing up. He grabbed a key from his pocket and motioned for the princess to follow her upstairs. "We c'n settle the fare later. Why don't y' get some sleep."

"Th...thank you, sir," she said, surprised by the man's sudden generosity. Reluctantly, Alena followed the innkeeper up the steep stairs to the bedrooms above. To her surprise, the second floor of the inn was in better shape than the bottom floor. There were no stains on the walls or floor and the doors to the rooms appeared tidy, even better than the entrance to the inn.

Eventually, they came to a room at the very end of the hall. The innkeeper swung the door open and Alena peered in. It was dark, having no moonlight filtering in through the single, cracked window. A small desk sat in the corner with a single stool, and a simple bed rested in the middle. There was also a strange odor emitting from the room, as if something was rotting. Alena figured she would have a difficult time sleeping in the room but she was too tired to complain.

"Thank you, sir," she said again as she entered the room. The innkeeper nodded and swung the door shut behind her.

Alena stood still in the small, dark room, listening to the wind whip against the single window opposite her. She felt uncertain, wondering what she was doing in such a place. It seemed her entire world had turned around in a single day. Just the previous night, she was sleeping peacefully in her large bed in Santeem Castle, dreaming of the next diplomatic trip she and her father would take.

Now she was standing in a rundown room, wondering if she would be able to get any sleep at all. A few doubts tugged at her mind, whether what she was doing would be any benefit. Sure, she had her freedom but was the cost going to be her comfort? She began to re-consider her earlier actions, realizing it had been foolhardy of her to just take off without any sort of preparation. She wondered whether she should continue on her quest or just head back to the castle, telling everyone that it was just a joke her and Brey had decided to pull.

Alena flopped down on the bed, too tired to even undress herself for the night. She decided to sleep on it, going with her feelings when she woke up. After all, it could not get any worse than it already was.