above the page.
Is doing fine and sends her regards. Keep believing in us and put your faith in the Great Spirit. May its wanderings find you pious. Dad.
Kenton rolled it up and stamped it with the royal seal of King Chellias. He took it down to the messenger’s office.
“I have a letter.”
The woman there took it. “When the next messenger comes back it will be delivered.”
“Thank you.”
As Kenton went back to his tent to rest he heard the galloping of many horses. That was never a good sign. He breathed a reluctant sigh when he saw that they were of Chell. The horses came to a stop at the first tent and someone yelled that the Welgo’s were heading down a river towards a protected town only a few hours away. The riders were assured that a protected town was safe. The riders disagreed.
“It’s not a raiding party.” One of the riders yelled. “It’s a full army. Over fifty boats heading swiftly down the river. Countless Welgo’s. They could destroy a hundred towns.”
Controlled panic erupted through the castle grounds. The king rode around and shouted orders. The commander echoed the orders. Kenton found his commanding officer and asked if he could be excused to rest. The C.O. laughed darkly and handed him a sword.
“Protect the king with your life, Flora.”
As usual he didn’t care to remember anyone’s names.
Kenton ran to the stables and found Sidestep resting. The horse jumped to it’s feet when it saw Kenton.
“No, it’s alright. Stay here and rest. I’ll take another.”
Sidestep neighed angrily when Kenton led another horse out.
“You’re no good to me tired. I can’t lose you.”
Sidestep continued its protests as Kenton jumped on a buckskin and rode away.
The army dashed at full strength. Kenton kept close to the king, who continued to yell commands as they went.
It was a long afternoon. Kenton managed to get a pair of goggles from someone who had two and bartered a knife for a few two day old biscuits.
They found the river after an hour and followed it up to the nearest town. It didn’t take long to see smoke rise casually into the air. The horses found a new speed and raced towards it.
There wasn’t much left of the small town when they arrived. The bodies of horses and soldiers littered the ground. Not a single building was spared from the flames. The king roared into town. He slowly looked about, but finding that there weren’t any survivors he rushed through and out into the vast nothingness.
A small hill loomed in the distance. Atop the hill were a hundred or so Welgos in their furs and leather jackets made from a conglomeration of strips and odd ends. The king raised a shiny sword to the sun and let out a war call so mighty that even his own shivered with fear.
The Welgos raised their own swords and started down the hill.
“The Great Spirit is here!” The king bellowed. “If you die you will fall straight into its arms. The more beasts you kill the softer the landing. Now ON!”
The army ran straight towards the Welgos. Kenton pulled his sword and kept his eyes glued to the king.
The two armies clashed with a great force. All the feelings of pride and intensity vanished instantly as swords sliced effortlessly through skin and flesh. Horses whinnied and humans moaned.
Kenton engaged several Welgos. His sword was covered in blood in only a few moments. He lost track of the king almost at once and did all he could to keep the invaders from ending it all for him. The horse didn’t respond as Sidestep would have. It tried to stay brave, but as other horses fell all around it soon panicked and ran any way it could to get away. Kenton swung his sword at an invader but the horse jerked the wrong way. Kenton’s arm took a slice. He managed not to yell out as he jabbed the sword through the invaders neck.
The horse couldn’t take the commotion anymore. Somehow it found it’s way out of the fray and bucked Kenton clean off. It took off through the burning town and away.
Kenton slowly got to his feet. Plenty of Welgos and Chells ran around without horses. He returned to the action and took out several Welgos, including some that were about to kill his fellow warriors.
The mess lasted for a while longer. Kenton took a few more hits to the jacket, which was very sturdy and kept all but the sharpest blades from cutting through. His arm bled profusely and the blood flowed down to his hands and made the sword hard to handle.
He didn’t know how long it took, but after some time he collapsed to the ground and no one was there to attack him.
A friendly face came over. It sure was a relief after all that.
“Sidestep killed?” The other fighter, Marvie, asked.
“No, he’s back at base. I took another one.” Kenton said, his voice gruff from the dust and excitement.
Marvie had the rare gift of being able to smile and mean it through almost anything. He was of average height and rather thin for someone who wielded a sword for a living. “Good. I saw you on the ground and assumed the worst. That horse saved my life a few times.”
“I think I did that.” Kenton said, trying and failing at a smile of his own.
Marvie pulled a few clean strips of cloth from the inside of his jacket and started treating Kenton’s arms. “You just go where that horse takes you. It has more sense than half the people here combined.”
“You’re probably right.” Kenton grimaced as the pain of his wounds finally reached his brain.
“So when did you get back?”
“Right before having to come out here.”
“Let's get you back to rest then.”
“Who won?” Kenton asked, looking around at the mess of bodies both dead and alive.
“The king always says we do.” Marvie whispered. “Who knows, really.”
Kenton rode back to base on a horse found wandering a good distance away from the battle. There was no sign of the one he took there. Marvie convinced the king, who always seemed to get through battle without a scratch, to let Kenton go back while the rest of the able bodied army continued to the next town. Marvie stayed back. He was the only one who could double as a medic who made the trip.
Late in the night and feeling woozy Kenton made it back to base. He went to the medical tent where they cleaned out his wounds and gave him plenty of water and dried meat. Being injured was one of the few ways to get meat, and the medics secretly suspected a lot of people took a few hits to reap the benefits. Kenton quickly went to sleep.
He found himself staring at the tent’s ceiling sometime in the night. A loud commotion had woken him up. Someone was being brought in, and all the noise meant it must be someone important.
“How did it happen?” One of the medics asked.
Marvie’s voice responded. “A few Welgo boats came down the river and shot arrows at us. He was hit several times in the legs. I managed to get him dressed but he’s been bleeding pretty bad. If only we weren’t so far out.”
“He doesn't look good. Commander Rogerseen can you hear me?”
Kenton rolled over and shut his eyes. He figured he’d be writing another letter in the morning.
8.
It had been almost a week since that wondrous and weird day out in the gardens. Ackerley survived another week of horrible tasks. His handwriting was slowly getting better. The ancient man in the library finally let him transcribe a real page from an old book, though he gave someone else the same page later and took that one instead of his. The fancy dinner on Wednesday wasn’t so bad. He danced with several people. The princess didn’t show up to that one. He had a sinking feeling that the siren found out something and locked her away somewhere.
He thought about telling Jarn about the strange woman in the creepy nursery, but didn’t want him to think he was pulling his leg. It all sounded a bit farfetched, and the further the event got the more he wondered if it really happened a
t all.
Saturday night came with another fancy dinner. This time Cerise was in attendance. She sat against the wall and watched as she always did. Madame Thrindle glared at Ackerley every time he got within twenty feet of the princess. He didn’t care. He exchanged several smiles with the princess. Each one felt almost as good as the whole conversation they had last Sunday.
When it was all over Jarn and Ackerley wandered the grounds. It was becoming a tradition after a fancy dinner.
“You know I saw that.” Jarn said with a smug smile as they walked by the front gate.
“Saw what?”
“You making eyes with the princess. At first I thought you were doing it with that weird little woman she hangs around with, but then I saw that the princess was smiling back. So what’s happened? Do you know her or something?”
“We talked once.” Ackerley announced proudly.
“What?! And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know if I should.”
“Uh, yeah. It's not everyday that the princess talks to anyone. In fact, I think you're the first person to ever get close enough to try.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
Jarn laughed. “This place is so boring that the goings on of that silent princess make news. Everyone wants to know about her and nobody is allowed to know. She’s almost as big a mystery as Lord Chellion himself. I still think he’s dead but that’s just me.”
“She’s from a kingdom in the mountains. They have some kind of connection to Chell but I’m not sure how.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Mr.