My hands become slick with sweat, contradicting the bitter
cold night. I rub my palms on my trousers to dry them.
An ear-piercing screech breaks the night’s silence and
then they charge. Running at full speed down the side of the
mountain towards us. The first one to reach us literally runs
into Tristan’s awaiting hand where his neck is snapped. I crouch
down, feeling sick, all I can hear every few seconds is their dying
screeches, but they keep coming.
Kiar roars in pain beside me. One of the exiles is hanging
on to his leg by its teeth. I run over against Tristan’s protests
and dig my dagger into its eye. The exile immediately lets go,
squealing.
“Thank you,” Kiar says, looking green.
Another one races for me. I have no dagger now. I back up
and hit the stone wall of the mountainside. I can see all the
exile’s teeth; its mouth is wide open, ready to bite. He freezes
an inch from my face and crumbles to the ground, an arrow
sticking out of the back of its head. My eyes meet Morrick’s. He
just nods and continues to fire his bow.
Neve fights two exiles as I help Kiar against the mountainside.
Legis, Liber, Neve and Tristan tighten in front of us, while Kiar,
my mum, Alana and I stay behind them. Morrick flanks to our
right, firing arrows from his horse. There are too many; they
will tire us out soon.
“Kiar, give me your sword,” Alana says in a stern voice.
Kiar laughs through his pain. “You’re a girl, not a warrior.”
“Don’t say I didn’t ask nicely.” Before Kiar can respond,
Alana punches him in the face, knocking him out. She kicks his
sword off the ground into the air and grabs it. If that were me, I
would’ve lost all my fingers. She gives me a grin. “I will have to
help protect you, princess.” She pushes her way between Neve
and Tristan and fights.
Neve is knocked off a bit by the sight of Alana fighting,
but he recovers quickly. Tristan gives no reaction. Typical. I
have a newfound respect for Alana. She’s a quick and graceful
fighter; she moves easily as if she knows their steps before they
even attack. I watch as she and Tristan share a knowing look.
Jealousy boils my blood. She is beautiful, sharp and can protect
herself. I go right back to hating her.
I check on Kiar’s leg; it is bleeding pretty bad. “Mum.” She
comes to assist me, pulling off Kiar’s belt from around his
waist, which holds five fighting knifes. He was really expecting
trouble. She tightens the belt around his leg just above the
bite to slow down the bleeding. Taking off her own cloak, she
presses it against the wound. A chunk is missing from his leg,
displaying shredded tissue. My stomach coils, but I manage to
keep it down.
The fighting dwindles. Tristan and Alana finish off the final
few. “You have quite a talent, Alana,” Morrick says with pride
in his voice.
Alana blushes, something I didn’t think she was capable of.
“Thank you, King Morrick.” She bows her head.
“Saddle back up. We need to leave before more return,”
Morrick says while turning his horse. Tristan helps get Kiar
up on Neve’s horse. Since Neve’s horse is vacant, I jump up
on it awkwardly. I took riding lessons when I was younger
so hopefully I can still remember. Once I’m up, I feel proud
Alana isn’t the only one with a hidden talent. No one passes
any comment; only Tristan barks orders at me to stay in front
of him. Alana glances around at me. I give her a grin and she
snaps her head back around.
Riding is more exhausting than I remember. My thighs burn
in no time from holding my body to suit the rhythm of the horse.
Moving through all the exiles’ bodies is disgusting.
Once we pass through the mountains, we hit the desert at
full speed. Light shines in the distance; a camp is set up with
two fires burning and several tents. As we race closer, a man
stands, waiting on us. The closer we get, the faster my heart
pounds. I know this man. He was in my head, talking to Adora,
or Linda. It feels like a lifetime ago.
“What’s wrong?” Tristan asks from behind me. My posture
must have stiffened. We’re too close to camp for me to explain.
Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know where to start.
Morrick reaches Mirium first and embraces him.
“Nothing,” I reply to Tristan just as we reach Mirium. I slow
my horse down and get off as gracefully as possible, which isn’t
graceful at all. Mirium is greeting my mother when his eyes fall
on me. He pulls off the wise old wizard perfectly, with his long
white hair and beard. He holds a staff in his left hand and a
long royal blue cloak frames his body.
“Sarajane.” He bows his head slightly to me.
“Mirium.” I bow back.
My mother looks startled. “You know Mirium?”
I don’t know why, but I lie. “No, I heard you use his name.”
My mother gives a relieved smile. “Of course.”
I don’t return her smile; I’m still too angry with her. Tristan
and Neve pass me, carrying Kiar to the closest tent. They greet
Mirium as they pass.
“Come. Food is ready,” Mirium says to the rest of us.
A young girl no older than sixteen hands us a bowl of stew
and a roll of bread each. She smiles and gives everyone friendly
greetings. When she reaches me, her eyes focus on the ground as
she stretches out my food towards me. “Princess.”
I take it, feeling confused at her behavior. “Thanks.” Her
eyes shoot up and she just stares at me in awe and fear.
“Navada, please join us.” Mirium pats a space beside him.
Navada bows to me and scurries over to Mirium.
I eat every bit of my stew and bread roll. Once everyone
is finished, they trickle off to their tents. Morrick, Mirium,
Tristan, Neve and I are all that is left. Tristan and Neve dig into
their own stew.
“What do you make of all of this, Sarajane?” Mirium asks,
catching me off guard. My thoughts had returned to home.
“Sorry, of what?”
Morrick looks annoyed with my response. “Saskia.”
“It is different from my world.”
Morrick’s jaw clenches. “This is your world. You are not
mortal, Sarajane.”
I shoot Morrick a glare. I knew I wasn’t mortal. Mum
explained to me the day at the willows that we’re partial
immortals; our lifespans are longer. But this isn’t what I meant.
“I’m more mortal than Saskian.”
Mirium looks amused by all of this. “And what does it mean
to be Saskian?” he asks me with a glint in his eye.
This all feels like a test and for some reason I really don’t
want to disappoint him. “Loyalty to this world is what makes
one a Saskian.” I truly believed this. Tristan’s loyalty to his king
never faltered, and Neve and Kiar’s to Tristan. It all trickled
down, and their loyalty was unshakable, all for their world. I
gave the right answer by t
he way Mirium’s eyes sparkle. “And
what does it mean to be mortal?”
This seems a much harder question, but one image surfaces.
I know this could cause trouble from Morrick. “Mortals value
a life.” I know we have wars, but in everyday life, a life has a
value, unlike the way Morrick struck down his son so easily.
Mirium considers this. I don’t look at Morrick, but I don’t
have to, as his anger radiates off him, making its way to me.
“Sometimes it becomes necessary to take a life; it does not
mean we value it any less”
“Well, I believe you should try and disarm someone before
killing them.” This time I do look at Morrick, who looks fit
to kill me. Mirium touches his arm gently to calm him down,
which seems to work.
“If someone valued their own life, they would not attack you.
Therefore, we wouldn’t have to kill them.” I look at Tristan in
astonishment by how passionate and sure he sounds.
“But why try and kill me in the first place?” I ask Tristan.
This is something that bothers me. Clive would have more of a
reason to kill me than just that I was his half-sister or maybe he
was crazy. Tristan remains silent.
“Because, my child, you are the biggest threat that some
Saskians will ever face and the greatest gift to the rest of us.”
Now I feel double confused by Mirium’s words, but he isn’t
finished. “Some of us are willing to give up our lives to save
yours.”
“But I don’t want anyone to do that. I never asked for that,”
I say.
“It is not about what we want in life. We do not choose our
paths or our destiny; they are already chosen for us.” This is all
getting very mythical and a headache is starting to brew.
“And who chooses our paths? Because I’d like a word with
that person.”
Mirium laughs genuinely. “And tell me, what would you say
to this person?”
“That I do not want anyone to die for me. I have enough on
my conscience already.” Not completely true, but I don’t know
if I’ll ever forgive myself for Clive. He was killed because of me
by his own father.
“One day you may have the privilege of meeting our maker
to ask your question.”
No direct answer so I ask a direct question. “And what is this
maker’s name?”
Mirium smiles. “God, of course, my child.”
Religion, a very shaky subject that I’m not going to get into.
“I’m going to check on Kiar.” I excuse myself.
“I will come with you,” Neve says while walking beside me.
When we reach Kiar’s tent, he’s awake. His face breaks into
a huge smile when Neve and I sit down on either side of his cot.
His leg is freshly bandaged.
“How do you feel?” I ask while checking his temperature by
placing my hand on his forehead. It feels normal to me.
Kiar beams up at me. “Better now that you are here, nurse.”
I laugh.
“Don’t fuss over him; he only got a little bite,” Neve says,
shaking his head in pretend disgust. We laugh and joke for
a while. Neve and Kiar insult each other playfully. I yawn.
The day’s occurrences start to set in on me. I kiss Kiar’s
cheek and bid him good night, promising I’ll be back in the
morning to check on him. Neve walks me to my tent that I
share with Alana.
Great, just what I need. She’s awake when I enter. My dagger is placed on the pillow on my cot. “Did you?” I ask, picking up the dagger.
“I found it and picked it up. I was going to throw it away. It’s
a sorry excuse for a dagger.” She turns her back on me.
“Thank you, Alana.” She doesn’t answer. She’s pretending
she doesn’t care, but she does. The dagger is clean and it shines
in the torchlight from being polished. “Maybe you could show
me how to use it?” I ask.
She turns around; her face shows no emotion. “Ladies do not
fight.”
She is one to preach. “You do,” I throw back.
She huffs and sits up. “I am a servant; you are a princess. Do
you not get it yet? My life is to serve you. I am no more than
your ghost.” Sadness fills her eyes.
I shake my head. “No, Alana.”
She laughs bitterly. “Don’t be so naïve. Open your beautiful
eyes and take a good look around you. This is not an equal
society like the world you came from. It’s about your bloodline,
and you’re more important than the rest of us.” Her voice rises
in frustration. I look at her, lost for words. “You are a sorry
excuse for a princess.” She storms out of the tent.
Tears sting my eyes. Her words hurt more than I ever could
have expected possible.
That night, I think about all Alana said. I think she’s really
upset over having to be a servant, tidying up after me when she’s
such a gifted fighter.
The next morning, I go to Morrick’s tent. He raises an
eyebrow when I enter. He’s seated on a rug with Mirium,
enjoying a platter of fresh fruit.
“Ah, Sarajane, please sit,” Morrick says.
I sit crossed-legged. I don’t feel as confident now that I’m here, but I’m not going to be a sorry excuse for a princess anymore.
“Morrick, what decisions do I have as a princess?” I hold my
head high as I speak.
“It depends what it is.” He pops a grape into his mouth.
“What about jobs for people?” I ask.
“I would listen to your opinion.” I feel disappointment. My
opinion; that is all. “Why the sudden interest?” I don’t blame
him for questioning me.
“I don’t want Alana as my servant anymore.”
Morrick looks aggravated now. “Sarajane, we have important
things to discuss.” In other words, I am dismissed.
after me when she was born to fight.” I hold up my hand so
he will let me continue. “I think she’s worth more than my
personal slave. She’s bright and strong, so I request you make
her a guardian.”
Morrick looks livid. “Don’t be so silly. Never in our history
has a woman been a guardian, and most certainly one with no
affinity at all.”
This was news to me. I hadn’t realised Alana had no affinity.
“I understand, but never in your history has a mortal become a
princess.” I hope I have my facts right to prove my point.
“That is different,” Morrick barks.
“Have you ever considered her gift is fighting?” I ask.
Mirium studies me. “What would you propose, Sarajane?
That we throw our rules aside on a whim?” He has a good
point.
“No, but I would hope King Morrick would at least consider
my proposal seriously. I’m not saying to change your rules. I
just think when extraordinary people are discovered, then
extraordinary exceptions should be made.”
Morrick seems stunned for a moment. “You feel very
passionate about this?”
“Yes.”
“I will consider it,” he sa
ys. I rise to leave. “Sarajane, as
for now, Alana is yours personally. Understand that you can
command her to do certain things within limitations.”
I never thought of this. I smile at Morrick and Mirium.
“Thank you.”
I rush back to my tent to tell Alana the great news, but it’s
empty. I can hear striking swords behind the tents. Are we under
attack? I creep around, keeping my head down. Tristan and
Legis are practising. Sweat soaks both of their tunics. Tristan
looks overly attractive. I stand there watching his every move
until Legis notices me.
“Princess?”
Tristan’s gaze falls upon me. I can feel a blush rise in my
cheeks. “Have either of you seen Alana?”
“She is with Kiar,” Tristan replies stiffly. He returns to
fighting. Is he jealous of Alana being with Kiar? I won’t let that
sink in or ruin my news for Alana. I find her in Kiar’s tent as
Tristan said. They’re laughing when I enter. Alana goes quiet
when she sees me.
“Have you come to check on your patient?” Kiar asks,
smiling.
“No, I’ve come to borrow your visitor.” I look at Alana; she
doesn’t budge. “Please, it will only take a moment”. Without
looking at me, she stands.
“I will only be a minute,” she tells a worried Kiar. I roll my
eyes and smile at Kiar to let him know it’s nothing serious. His
face relaxes. Does he like Alana? That would be something to
look in to.
As we enter our tent, Alana crosses her arms defensively.
“What?” she asks with a tone.
“I spoke to Morrick—”
She cuts me off. “You ran to Daddy because I upset you.”
Her words are laced with sarcasm.
“No, I requested you were made a guardian.”
This knocks Alana off completely “What did he say?” Her
eyes are wide with astonishment.
“He will consider it.”
Her face falls. “Oh.”
“But you are mine to do as I command for the moment.”
Her face turns into a snarl. “You are enjoying teasing me,
princess.”
“Alana, I want you to be my personal guard. No more picking
up after me. You’re better than that.”
“Oh… I don’t know what to say.”
I have to laugh. “That’s a first.”
She smiles back at me shyly. “Thank you so much.”
I return her smile. “You’re welcome, but it comes with terms.”
She sits on her cot, beaming. “Name them.”