Well, made it through chapter six! I knew exactly what I wanted to happen in this one, yet for some reason it was a struggle to write. That said, I have plowed ahead and am making quick work of the next chapter. I hope you enjoy this one, and a heartfelt thank you to everyone who's reviewed the story so far - I know I'm slow at releasing updates, but your feedback really helps keep me motivated to finish. :)
Chapter Six
King Mies paced the throne room, his heavy steps echoing across the marble floor. He mumbled to himself, hand stroking his stubbled chin, swarming with worry – when had everything turned so wrong? He was desperate to get the treaty in place, knowing that the longer the delay, the more likely Queen Serenity would sense that something was amiss. Pushing the issue, however, looked just as suspicious with the Princess missing and his men unable to find her. Mies paused to release a frustrated growl; he would gleefully hang whoever had kidnapped that damn moon girl.
"Temper, temper." His mistress chided, slinking up behind him as she ran her hand over his shoulder.
"Beryl." The King remained motionless as she walked around to face him. He half-smiled at her, taking a moment to admire her fair skin, and soft waves of crimson hair. The King was not a stupid man, and although she had no love for him, she was indeed a beautiful woman.
"Now tell me, what are those girls doing here?" she demanded, her expression hardening.
"The Queen summoned them." The King sighed – as if a missing Princess wasn't enough, he had a bunch of nosey girls poking around the palace.
"Get rid of them," Beryl commanded, placing a firm hand on the King's arm. "It's too dangerous with them here."
"I can't." He shook his head, "I have no real reason to deny them," he explained. Beryl nodded; the King was right. She had kept an eye on Queen Serenity from behind the shadows, and could easily tell she was on edge. Any further upset would only put their plan – her plan – into jeopardy.
"Do we know who took her?" she prodded, wondering if her outside contacts could be of any use.
"They say it was the Black Cloud." Despite his efforts to remain neutral, Beryl could see the disappointment creep across the King's face.
"You know where she is, don't you," she hissed, determined to make Mies realize that any hope he had left was utterly pointless. "He did it. He has her," she insisted, "he wants to ruin you." The words spilled from her lips, seeping like poison into the King's mind. "He wants to see this kingdom burn."
"What do you suggest I do?"
"Find her, and kill him," she whispered, breath hot on his ear.
The King's face grew stoic, his jaw clenched and breathing deepened. "I will not kill my son."
"Your son is a traitor," Beryl spat, wincing as Mies forcefully grabbed her upper arm. She masked her surprise with a scowl – he was not supposed to speak back to her.
"I've made Elias next in line for the crown, what more do you want, woman," he barked, his nostrils flaring.
She grit her teeth and refused to back down, fiery eyes burning with irritation. "Unhand me," she ordered. The door at the other end of the room creaked open, and the King immediately retracted his grasp.
"Your Majesty, I beg your pardon." Kunzite paused in the doorway, bowing his head in respect. "I can return – "
"Not necessary. We're finished here." He cast a final glare at the woman, silently dismissing her. Unwilling to create any more waves, she acquiesced.
"My King." Beryl placed a kiss on Mies' cheek before tilting her head and turning to leave. "Kunzite," she greeted. He nodded out of formality, fighting to conceal the curl of his lip and shiver down his spine as she sauntered passed.
The door slammed closed, and the King's shoulders relaxed. He sat on his throne, and released a heavy sigh. "What did you learn?" Mies asked.
"The Daboia have her now," Kunzite reported.
"Acacius," Mies muttered – that man had always been a thorn in his side. "Do you know where they are?"
"No, but we have a few ideas," he replied. "We're readying scouts."
"Good. And the guardians?"
"Restless, your highness." Kunzite paused as the King snorted. "They won't back down until their Princess is safe, but they may be able to offer more help than we initially thought," he explained, choosing his words carefully. While Kunzite could see warriors in these young women, he knew the King did not; after all, fighting was not a woman's place.
"Keep them close," he instructed, wearily rubbing his tired eyes.
"Yes, your highness." The master-at-arms placed his fist over his heart as he bowed his head.
"Is that all?" the King asked, the weariness evident on his face.
"King Mies, if I may," Kunzite paused to take a step closer and lowering his voice. "I believe it would be in our best interest to consider telling Queen Serenity about Endymi—" The King's cheek twitched, and Kunzite coughed to mask his mistake. "—the prince's betrayal."
"We will do no such thing," he hissed, back rigid as his fingers coiled around the arm of his throne.
"They will find out."
"Then I shall task you with making sure they don't."
"But Sire –" Kunzite protested, speech halted as the King held up his palm.
"That is all, Kunzite."
The solider stood his ground, lips tight as he struggled to control his tone. "The prophet in Muadib said he would save her," he said, focus unwavering. King Mies rose to his feet, visibly shaking as his veins boiled with anger.
"You are dismissed," he roared, his voice reverberating against the marble floor and thick stone pillars. Kunzite surrendered an apology before taking his leave, unable to release the tightness that had settled in his chest. He knew that the King's secrets would do nothing but harm, and with the best interest of the kingdom in mind, decided that it was time to develop a plan.
Hearing footsteps fast approaching, Beryl wretched herself away from the throne room door, walking briskly down the corridor to the drawing room, where she found her son mulling over ancient texts. She paused in the doorway, and watched him read, frowning at his thin frame and pallid skin. Elias was intelligent and obedient; he bided his time observing the world around him, planning and strategizing each interaction. However, deep down Beryl knew. She knew that what he had in intelligence, he lacked in personality and charm. She knew the people would be reluctant to follow him. She knew he was no king – not even with all the magic in the world.
"Elias," she said, breaking his concentration.
"Mother." He tripped as he rose to his feet, book tumbling from his lap as he bowed awkwardly.
"I need you to gather the ingredients for the King's elixir," she ordered, eyes sharp as the boy nodded.
"Is he unwell again?"
"I've started to see the signs." She masked her disappointment in the wavering of his almond eyes – it was almost sweet how concerned his was for the King. "Do you remember what we need?"
"Calamus root, lodestone oil, honeysuckle, vetivert and licorice root," he recited, anxiously watching for her approval. She smiled, and he released a sigh of relief, his posture relaxing.
"Tonight, if you can."
"Yes, mother." He nodded.
"You're a good boy, Elias," she praised, placing a gentle kiss on his head before leaving him to his studies.
Two men rode across the desert land, their horses' powerful strides leaving clouds of dust in their wake. A large mesa stood proudly in the distance, and Endymion slowed his steed, cocking his head to the side and listening intently. Wind whistled through the stout, bristly trees, and buzzards cawed overhead as they spun languid circles in the sky. Motoki watched in earnest as his friend studied their surroundings, forehead creased and lips pursed in concentration.
Endymion halted at the rocky mass, and his horse sought sanctuary in its shadow. He dismounted, unhitching his sword from his saddle, and arming himself with an extra blade. Motoki followed suit, searching for any sign of their enemy – how did Endymion know?
"They've set up camp around the other side," he stated, taking a quick swig of water.
"Are you sure?"
"Listen," Endymion instructed. Hardy laughter clung to the wind, accompanied by the rhythmic strokes of blades being whetted. "Can you smell that?" Motoki inhaled, catching the subtle tones of cooked meat and smoke.
"So, what's the plan?" the blond asked, untying a bag of throwing daggers, and tucking them into the slits on his belt.
"We go into their camp, and rescue the girl." He focused forward, mind and body alert.
"That's not a plan," Motoki replied, voice hitched with panic. For a man who usually thrived on order and strategy, Endymion was not being his rational self. "We can't just walk in there and expect them to hand her over."
"Well, what have you got?" Endymion snapped, patience wearing thin and angry at himself for losing her in the first place.
"I'd prefer not to get killed," Motoki muttered.
"They won't kill us." His tone was sharp and succinct. Motoki snorted at the response, at least one of them was confident. "And the last thing he wants is to be wanted for treason," he added.
"He's still not going to give her up without a fight," the blond warned.
"Then we fight."
"Let's just think about this for a minute before we go bursting through their –" Motoki sighed and rolled his eyes, his words useless against the stubborn man who was already inching his way along the rock barrier that separated them from the Daboia and Serenity. He steadied his breath, and shook the nerves from his hands before following dutifully behind.
Peering around the corner, Endymion found the majority of the tribe slouched around the fire, recounting tales of adventure. Their weapons lay discarded by a tattered tent, and the remains of a boar sat at the edge of the camp. Their stomachs were swollen with mead from the barrels stacked two high around the western perimeter. With no guards and little protection, it was clear that the Daboia's ego was their one true downfall – they overestimated their talents, and miscalculated the threat of their rivals. Endymion shook his head; they hadn't been that hard to find. He scoured the camp for Serenity, and felt the heat on his back weaken as the sun began to fade – a reminder that he had to act soon.
"Any sign of her?" Motoki whispered, his heart racing, as he thumbed the heel of a dagger. Endymion took a step back.
"No." He rubbed his face; this was not going as planned. "I can't get a good line of sight, but I imagine they've sent up tents to the east." He motioned with his hand. "She has to be there."
"We'll be completely exposed if we go around," Motoki said, clearing the sweat off his brow with his arm.
"I know," Endymion nodded, "but I don't think we have—" He stopped, holding up a finger and remaining still. The Daboia erupted into a fit of catcalls that echoed into the darkening sky, causing Endymion to scurry back to the corner. "She's there," he noted, stepping aside for Motoki to get a view of the situation.
One of the Daboia had dragged the girl from her tent, and pushed her towards Acacius' feet. The large man crouched down to meet her at eye level, casting an abhorrent smirk as he looked over her.
"If you play nice, I might let you eat," he taunted, licking his lips. Serenity remained silent, jaw clenched as she glared at him. Receiving no answer, Acacius squeezed her cheeks with his hand. "You will not ignore me," he snarled, tired of her uncooperative behaviour.
"Release her," Endymion called, stepping from his protective covering. Serenity gasped, washed in a wave of relief as men clamoured to get their weapons. They paused mid-step when Acacius held up his hand. He rose to his feet, chest puffed and nose held high.
"Finders keepers. Isn't that right boys?" he sang, his tribe humming behind him in agreement.
"I'm not here to fight. I'm just here for the girl," Endymion explained, tossing down his sword and raising his palms as a sign of surrender. "Let her go." He glanced at the princess, his cheek twitching with anger at the purple on her skin. Serenity averted her gaze, face burning and guilt pooling in her stomach.
"You're not a prince here, Endymion," Acacius scoffed. "What's stopping me from killing you right now?" he asked, clenching his hand.
"Do you really think I'd come alone?"
"I don't see any of your men," he snorted, and shook his head.
"That doesn't mean they're not there."
Serenity's attention flitted between the men, and she stretched her neck attempting to see beyond the rock, praying to find the rest of the Black Cloud.
"You're bluffing," he accused, eyes narrowing as he tried to read his opponent's reaction.
"Try me," Endymion challenged. Serenity slid backwards across the sand, pulling her knees to her chest hoping to be forgotten.
"Kael," Acacius shouted, nodding to a plump man seated by the fire, who grunted in irritation. The man took a spear from the pile that lay in the sand, and marched with cumbersome steps to where Endymion had made his appearance.
"I wouldn't go any further," the Black Cloud leader warned. The tribesman shot a sidelong glance at his master, who urged him ahead with the tilt of his chin. Weapon pointed forwards, Kael shuffled across the terrain
"What do you see?" Acacius leaned towards Endymion, eyebrow cocked in victory.
"Noth – fuck!" Kael cried, dropping his spear and clutching his thigh. The smug grin dropped from Acacius' face, as two men rushed to Kael's side, trying to examine the depth of the dagger. Motoki remained in his position, ducking low and pleading to the gods that no more men came to check.
"Your hunters are gone, and the rest are drunk. Forty of my best men are just beyond the hill – this is not a fight you can win," Endymion stated, relishing in the his rival's shift to discomfort.
"What's she worth to you?" Acacius grunted, unable to deny that he had been bested.
"Name your price."
Acacius stroked his chin, pacing as he weighed his options. His lips curled, and he ground his teeth, fighting the temper that was beginning to boil. His forearm tightened, and fingers coiled into a fist. Sweat dripped from his neck, and in one swift movement he slammed his fist into Endymion's chest, causing him to stumble backwards with a surprised groan. He coughed as the air returned to his lungs, jaw set as he pushed back his sleeves. Endymion lunged forward with a guttural cry, tackling Acacius to the ground.
Serenity watched in horror as the leaders battled, gasping at every strike and cringing at the bloodied lips and bruised cheeks. The burly man roared, grabbing his opponent around the waist, and flipping him backwards over his shoulder. Endymion moaned as his body hit the ground, a jolt of pain racing up his back. Acacius towered over him, head thrown back in a throaty chuckle. Motoki raced out into the camp, skidding to a halt when he saw the rest of the men take a step towards him.
"Are we done?" Acacius spat.
"Not yet." Endymion delivered a powerful kick to his opponent's knee, sending him tumbling forward.
"Cheap trick," he grunted,had steadying himself with an arm on the ground, and pushing himself his feet. Endymion grabbed Acacius from behind, and pinned back his arms. He grabbed the dagger from his belt, holding the edge against Acacius' neck.
"I said I wasn't here to fight," he hissed, breathing ragged as he struggled to keep the man still.
"Ten pounds in gold."
"That offer is off the table. I'm taking the girl or your head, your choice," Acacius' men looked at their leader, waiting for instruction. With a deep scowl he shook his head, telling them to back off – the princess was not worth his life.
Endymion signalled to Motoki, who ran to Serenity's side. He cut the bindings around her limbs, and placed an arm around her shoulder.
"Come on," he urged, trying to help her stand.
"I can't," Serenity cried – she hadn't come all this way only to lose it again.
"We don't have much time," Motoki said, seeing Endymion's control over Acacius beginning to slip.
"He still has it." She shook her head vehemently. "I can't leave without it," she said, fingers rubbing at the bruise on her neck. Seeing the girl's distraught motions, Endymion immediately knew.
"Tell me where the necklace is and I'll leave the gold," he demanded, tightening his grip on Acacius. The man refused to answer, and snorted in contempt. Endymion lightly grazed his neck with the blade, drawing a trickle of blood.
"Pocket," he rasped.
"It's in his pocket," Endymion called, and Serenity stumbled forward, frantically digging until the heirloom was safely in her hand. Standing to her full height, Serenity bore hatred into the man's eyes, nostrils flaring and mouth trembling. Collecting every ounce of energy that she could muster, she lifted a knee to Acacius' groin, relishing in the cry of pain that escaped his lips.
"Let's go," Motoki whispered, supporting the princess and leading her from the camp.
"Pleasure doing business with you." Endymion shoved the man to the ground, throwing a small bag of coins at his feet.
"They'll hang you when they find you with her," Acacius shouted after them, curled on his side and caressing his assaulted skin.
"I can't believe that worked," Motoki cheered once they had reached their horses. He gave the girl his flask, with a gentle nod.
"Where's the rest of your men?" Serenity asked, chest heaving as she fought to control her exhaustion.
"You're looking at them," the blond replied dryly. The girl smiled, despite the shivers running up her spine, eternally grateful to the duo, but unsure what to say.
Endymion stepped between the two, his tension dampening the mood. Taking a rope from his pack, he bound Serenity's wrists despite her fervent protests. He lifted the princess onto his horse, climbing behind her and securing her in place with his muscular grip. She craned to look at him, yet he steadily averted her gaze making no attempt at comfort. Her chin fell, and shoulders hunched; she saw his raw knuckles, and noticed a bruise developing on his arm – all because of her. While her thoughts ran rampant, she couldn't help but relax into the security that his torso offered, and began to wonder why he had saved her at all. He clearly had no real plans for her, so what was the point?
No words had been spoken until they reached the familiar dwelling, and even then it was a quick order from Endymion to his sidekick. He had haphazardly pulled her from the horse, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.
"We'll take shifts," he said, allowing the chair to screech across the floor and positioning himself at the end of her bed. Endymion winced as he placed his elbow on his thigh, muscles aching and bruises throbbing. He could easily have killed Acacius for what he had done to the girl, and that very thought terrified him. He needed to rid himself of the princess.
"Wake me when you want to switch," Motoki replied, having already decided not to get involved any further.
While Serenity had become accustomed to the aches and pains that plagued her body, she found it difficult to let go of the unspoken scolding and angry looks. She had opened her mouth to speak countless times, but nothing seemed right. With a heavy yawn, and dampening eyes, she found solace in the fact that she was safe – at least for the night.