The story so far: Adon Santinetta and Crown Prince Lorens, accompanied by Princess Carena and Lord Bardonnel, make a state visit to Satele, where they soon encounter an anti-regime mob, a divided court, and an assassination attempt. During trade talks, Satelen Lord Marinacci makes a very unwelcome proposal, which Lorens rejects with prejudice. Upon hearing that a coup will be attempted soon, Adon and Lorens devise a plan to extricate the delegation. As princesses Carena and Grania try to reach the latter’s suite after the state dinner, they are stopped by Satelen soldiers.
One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine
“I am the Crown Princess of Satele! I can go where I wish!”
Opposite her, the Marinacci squad leader with the smooth voice, a wiry, olive-skinned man of average height and short, curly black hair, chuckled without mirth and shook his head. “Grania Valleroi! You do not seem to realize you are no longer Princess of Satele. Your father’s kingdom falls tonight, and you with it.”
“That shocks me less than you know,” Grania said, stepping forward to shield Princess Carena. “And it wounds me not at all.”
“Brave words, lady,” the man said, sneering under a narrow black mustache, “but they’ll do you no good. My men and I will overcome your lone guard in a trice, and then you and the young lady will be coming with us. The new king wishes you detained until he can speak with you. He is quite busy at the moment.”
“How unobservant of you!” a Margonnian voice said, and the tall, golden-haired Lieutenant Dalian Archeta stepped forward into the pool of light cast by one of the few lamps still lit within the atrium. “The princesses have many guards. You will not be detaining them.” Four other Palace Guards, swords drawn, strode forward to screen the women from the Satelens.
“You Margonni dare to interfere in an internal Satelen matter?” the rebel leader growled, drawing his sword.
Lieutenant Archeta shrugged. “You are threatening Princess Carena, whom we are sworn to protect, and Crown Princess Grania is her companion, so, no, we are entirely within our rights. You, however, are at fault in threatening the freedom of an innocent foreign dignitary.” He paused and looked down his nose at the Satelen. “But who ever said rebel trash operates within the law?”
“You’ll pay for that, you prig!” the rebel roared and strode forward, accompanied by his men. The lieutenant stepped out to meet his rush, sword rising to parry the other’s blade. Their swords locked briefly, and Dalian thrust the other man away, sending him sprawling.
“If you were smart, you’d stay down,” the lieutenant shouted over the clanging of other swords as the Palace Guard troops met the other rebels. “But you’re not,” he said with a sigh, watching the other man scramble to his feet and advance toward him. “Do you wish so eagerly for death?”
“You will be the one to die!” the rebel leader yelled, his face fiery red. He rushed in recklessly, trying to drive the lieutenant back into the fray behind him, but Dalian gracefully side-stepped as he parried, letting the man’s momentum carry him into the back of another rebel. Distracted and thrown off balance, the man fell to a guard’s thrust.
Dalian tsked. “See what you’ve done?” He effortlessly blocked another blow, a savage backhand delivered as the rebel leader scrambled to his feet again. Keeping his eyes on his opponent, the lieutenant shouted, “Private Oakman! Well done! Now cover the princesses!”
The expected “Yes, sir!” came back immediately.
Breathing heavily already, the Satelen again tried to force the lieutenant to retreat, but he stood firm, absorbing the blows and forcing the rebel back instead. As they circled each other, Dalian said, “If you withdraw to the Grand Ballroom, we will let you go.”
“Never!” the man shouted back.
“Fine! As you wish,” the lieutenant said, moving forward to attack from a mid-guard position, but then he halted and stepped back, lowering his sword. “Do you know Shark Bites? You’d be wise to defend with Shark in the Water.”
“What are you talking about?” the rebel leader shouted back.
Dalian shook his head. “Sad, really. You’re Satelen, and you don’t know the Andromdes Sword-Fighting Forms? Pity. Well, then, defend yourself the best you can.” He stepped forward again, stabbing with swift, mid-body thrusts that the rebel just barely fended off. The lieutenant nodded. “Not bad, rebel! But not particularly good either.”
At that moment, three figures skidded into the light, the one in the lead shouting, “Save a few for us, Margonne!” He and the two others, clearly Aertellans by their leader’s lilting speech, drew their swords, and in a flurry of aggressive and ruthless fighting, all six of the Satelen rebels were lying on the floor, dead or severely wounded. Laughing, the newcomers wiped their swords on the clothes of the dead men and sheathed them.
“What do you say, lads? A fine scrap!” the leader of the Aertellans whooped, and the two men with him grinned and agreed.
“And you are?” Lieutenant Archeta asked, sword still in hand.
“Oh, sorry, lieutenant,” the man said, holding out a gloved hand, which Dalian shook. “I’m Count Nelius dor Ammil, and these lads are my kinsmen, Adolis and Finas. I saw the beautiful Princess Carena escorted from the banquet and came to make sure she returned to her rooms safely. Shenanigans are afoot in the palace this night, and it would wound me deeply if she came to harm.”
“Nelius!” Carena called, beaming. “You are most welcome!”
“We can exchange pleasantries later,” Princess Grania interjected. “Lieutenant, the jester’s son said to get us safely to my suite. We should go now.”
“The jester’s son?” Dalian asked, and then his eyes widened. “Yes, Your Highness! Of course he did! Captain’s orders, privates! Get these women to the royal suites!”
“Yes, sir!” a half-dozen voices said in unison. The Palace Guard troops formed up to surround the princesses and Nelius dor Ammil, who had claimed a place at Carena’s side. His kinsmen appointed themselves as the rearguard.
“Follow me, gentlemen,” Grania said as the lieutenant joined her and the Marine. “We must get out of sight.”
She walked away as fast as her long, sea-green gown and high-heeled shoes allowed. Taking them along the outside of the palace’s unusually dark, central atrium, they moved in and out of pale pools of light. Finally, she stopped at a door under the main staircase and opened it. Still holding his cutlass at the ready, the Marine insisted on entering first, and she and the rest followed.
When the dor Ammil lads closed the door behind them, Grania halted them in the dim hallway. “This corridor leads to the residence servants’ stair,” she explained. “Many of them are serving at the banquet, but we may cross paths with a few on our way up to the third level. They’ll probably avoid us, but beware! Partisans are everywhere in this place.”
She glanced at Carena, smiling. “Take your shoes off, dear. The climb will be so much easier—and quieter.” In a moment, they were both barefoot and holding their skirts high to move more quickly.
Directing the Marine as he strode before her, Grania led them to and up a shadowy flight of wooden stairs, down a long, narrow hall where two could barely walk abreast, up a second flight, and finally, through a door that spilled them out into a bright, ornate hallway. Plush golden carpet covered the floor, and lamps blazed in a dozen sconces between gilt-framed paintings.
As their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, the princesses put their shoes on and walked regally in the center of the Palace Guard. Two Satelen guards stood beside the door to the princess’ suite, and four others clustered at the door to the king’s suite. They watched Grania’s entourage suspiciously, all with hands on their sword hilts.
As she neared them, Grania shouted, “Guards! The king needs you in the Grand Ballroom! He is under attack!” Seeing their princess surrounded by Margonnian soldiers, the six men exchanged worried glances, unsure of what to do.
Lieutenant Archeta stepped forward and spoke in a commanding voice. “Are you loyal to Valleroi or not? Crown Princess Grania gave you an order! On our honor, Margonne’s Palace Guard will protect the princess with our lives. But you must rally to your king! Now off to the ballroom!” Without hesitation, the six bowed to the smiling princess and ran for the stairs.
“Thank you, Lieutenant!” Grania said. “They needed a little shove, didn’t they?” She made to open her suite’s door, but the Marine stepped in front of her. He turned the knob and pushed inward. Immediately, a loud thwack sounded, and lurching, he cried out and twisted against the doorjamb before falling across the threshold.
Dalian shoved Grania against the outside wall, covering her with his body and shouting, “Bowman inside! Pursue!” Four of the Palace Guard troops burst into the suite, seeing a small, dark-clad figure running toward the short hallway to the princess’ bedroom, and they gave chase. Rather than turning into the bedroom, the bowman made for the door connecting to the king’s suite. Producing a key, the figure missed the keyhole on the first try, a mistake that made the difference. The foremost guard tackled the bowman to the floor.
One of his comrades shouted back to the lieutenant, “The shooter is down! It’s safe!”
“Ensure the rest of the suite is clear!” Dalian yelled back, and two soldiers checked every room and closet before announcing, “All clear!”
The fifth Palace Guard soldier had begun tending to the Marine, who lay unconscious in the doorway, a miniature crossbow bolt lodged in his left-side ribs. The two Aertellan lads helped move him inside, then posted themselves as guards in the hallway. The princesses entered with Dalian and Nelius as the pursuing troops frogmarched the assassin into the room.
“It’s a woman!” Carena exclaimed, her hand rising to cover her mouth.
“And not just any woman,” Grania responded, her voice flat. Her shoulders slumped as she sat on a nearby settee. “She is my lady’s maid, Tianta. She’s been with me about five years now. I never realized she worked for Lord Marinacci.”
A petite young woman dressed in a man’s black pants and shirt, Tianta struggled to free herself, but the guard’s grip was too strong. Glaring at Grania with flinty brown eyes, she yelled, “This is the glorious night we have been waiting for! Corado will make Satele strong and prosperous!”
Grania’s head came up. “Corado? You call him by his first name?”
“Of course! He is my cousin!”
The princess shook her head. “How did I not know that?” she muttered to herself.
“Because I fooled you!” Tianta crowed, laughing. “I am not even Tianta Marovoli, you cow! My true name is Natalia Marinacci, born on the Marinacci estate! What a stupid woman you are! You took a Satelen’s word.”
“I did,” Grania admitted, looking away, wondering what other mistakes she had made.
“What should we do with her?” Lieutenant Archeta asked, breaking into her thoughts. “We can’t take her with us.”
“Bind her well and gag her,” the princess said wearily. “We’ll leave her for her precious Corado to find.” Suddenly feeling her age, he levered herself off the settee as the guards tied and gagged the assassin. “I should change and pack a bag.”
She hurried into her bedroom, followed by Carena. Slipping behind a dressing screen, she said, “Carena, dear? Would you please open the bottom right drawer in the armoire and hand me everything in it? At least I set aside some clothes, if I ever needed to flee.”
A few minutes later, dressed in a white linen blouse and a loose, dark-blue woolen skirt, she quickly pulled on tall black boots and a jacket that matched her skirt. Extracting a large leather bag from a closet, she quickly filled it with clothes.
“I think I’m ready,” she said at last, looking around the room to see what she may have missed.
Carena strode to the closet and came back with another, smaller bag. “No, you’re not,” she insisted with her usual fire. “Take your money and your jewels and a few personal things. You’re not coming back.”
“What about your things?” Grania asked as she dumped the contents of her jewelry boxes into the bag and fetched her purse and a small stash of coin she kept for emergencies. After a moment’s thought, she threw in a set of mother-of-pearl combs, brushes, and hair clips, her favorite pair of gloves, a miniature portrait of her mother, and a jeweled crown and golden tiara that her father had given her.
Carena giggled. “Our bags are already stowed aboard Kestrel! Some of Uncle Adon’s guards disguised themselves as workmen and smuggled our luggage out in all the confusion before the banquet. I’m sure the gate guards thought they were just empty food crates being hauled away!”
“Clever,” Grania said, grinning along with the princess. She took a turn about the room, looking for anything else she might take. In the end, she took only a hand-sized painting of an older couple and a lumpy burlap sack and pronounced herself ready.
Rejoining the men, she inquired after the Marine’s condition. The guard tending the wounded man answered, smiling grimly, “This swordfish should live, ma’am, but he’s going to hate the walk to the ship! See, I left the bolt in and bound him tight to stop the bleeding, but he’ll want to scream with every step.”
“See that he doesn’t,” Grania said, frowning. “Unfortunately, our escape route will make it worse. Call the Aertellan boys in if they’re coming with us. We’re leaving through the secret passages.”
A note:
The squad leader’s ignorance of the Andromedes Sword-Fighting Forms genuinely surprised Lieutenant Dalian Archeta. He assumed that, since they originated in Satele, local soldiers would at least recognize the name, if not have studied them as assiduously as they were in Margonne. Their originator was the renowned weaponsmaster, Nestor Andromedes, Prince Margonne’s tutor when he was growing up in the Angevan court. Over many years, Nestor had crafted a comprehensive system of sword-fighting techniques and exercises, most of which were named after common aquatic activities (“Dolphin Leaps,” “Osprey Wheels,” “High Tide,” etc.). Teaching them to Margonne’s heirs became traditional, and later, Alfons the Wise made their instruction mandatory for the Palace Guard and the army’s officer corps.
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What an exciting and daring escape!
I sense more sword play in the near future! An exciting episode with the bulk of the action still to come!