The Rescue
by Jamie K. Schmidt
Sy paced the dungeon cell and kicked the straw pallet in frustration. He was the High Prince Syvolle Des Rhaschine and he was a prisoner. He crouched down and ran his fingers over the squalid stone floor, cursing his luck. It was all her fault.
He should’ve known she’d be trouble the moment he saw her. The Court weapons’ commander was proud to announce to the royal family that the only offspring of Master Assassin Shade had been hired to train and guard Sy. No one had ever said Shade had a daughter. She was a delicate little thing with turquoise eyes and fine white blond hair. She looked like a princess, not an assassin.
Sure there were concubine-assassins, but they dealt in seduction, poison or strangulation. Sy was a warrior. He wanted to learn the deadly and mysterious art of the shadow lords.
“Ladies are not meant for battle,” Sy had told her.
“Neither are princes,” she sneered back. She slid from her horse like a gymnast. “What you need, Prince, is a lesson in how appearances can be deceiving.” She ran at him and he braced himself for impact. But at the last moment, she leapt and flipped over him. Before his confused mind could take in the details, she had a blade at his throat.
“Adriana Night-Shade.” She put her stiletto back into her soft, leather boots. “You can call me Drey. Remember, an enemy can take on any shape or form.”
It got worse after that. How all that energy could be stored in that little body, Sy never knew. The lessons were tough and more than once, Sy returned to his room bruised and battered. He took a lot of long, hot baths. Not only was she was an unrelenting teacher, but she was an excellent guard as well. When they went out into the village, she buckled on black Oriental style armor and tied her long blond mane away from her face. He felt like a fool, a baby, when she walked beside him, glowering at all who dared to snicker.
They were only challenged once. The Viscount’s son, Bastion, was a bully and thought it would be an interesting pastime to see how good the new castle guard was. Sy had been preoccupied with a merchant’s wares and only saw the resolution of the skirmish. Bastion had picked up Drey by the forearms and was dangling her in front of him. He was laughing and taunting her. Drey didn’t get angry, in fact, she smiled.
Sy saw her lift her knee to her chest and kick Bastion under his ribs with the ball of her foot. She landed gracefully and nimbly leapt back. Sy saw a blade flick out of her boot’s toe. Bastion was doubled over trying to catch his breath. Drey dropped her heel between the big man’s shoulder blades and his chin hit the dirt. She kicked him over on to his back and kept the blade on her foot trained at his neck.
“That’s showing her, Bastion!”
Drey didn’t look to see where the voice came from or who it belonged to. But Sy recognized it was his older brother, Dexter.
“Know that I could’ve killed you, but you are not worth the time it would take to clean off my blade,” Drey said and nicked Bastion on his chin. The blade retracted before blood reached it and she walked away. As she came towards Sy, he was ashamed that he had not been there to help her, to rescue her.
Dexter pushed his way through the crowd and came up along side Drey. Sy couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he knew Dex could be charming. Women sighed after him when he passed, although Sy couldn’t see why. Sure, Dex was tall and handsome, but he had been born without the royal birthmark and thus could not lead. And thus could marry beneath him if he chose.
Sy had hated his brother, at that moment.
“And what would have happened to him if kidnappers had decided to snatch him while you were showing off?” Dex said, as they approached him.
“I can take care of myself!” Sy shouted and would’ve lunged for him, but Drey stepped between them.
“The point is moot since it did not happen, Low Prince.” Drey gestured to Sy and they left the market.
“Do you have an answer for everything, my Lady?”
Sy had felt Drey stiffen as Dex’s laughter followed them.
Brought back from his daydreams by a crawling insect, Sy flicked it off him and decided to lie down on the pallet. He stared up at the ceiling. No way out that way. He looked sideways. The bars of the dungeon were of tempered steel, double edged and lethal sharp. He was caught. Well, at least he wasn’t a stranger to being held captive.
Last summer, when the kidnappers did come for him, Sy had been grabbed from horseback while ground fighters kept his guards occupied. The kidnappers had taken him to an abandoned mine in the forest hills of Althazar. He had no chance to use the arts that Drey had taught him, because they bound and gagged him immediately. He had sat there for five hours, while the kidnappers played cards and waited for the ransom to come through.
It never did. Drey came in its place. The lanterns flickered and went out as if from a strong wind, but the air in the cave was stagnant and chill. There was nothing there. His guards had spooked, and fumbled with the re-lighting, but the match would extinguish as soon as it was lit. They suspected magic or some other force at work. They grabbed their weapons and searched around, using the cave walls for guidance.
One guard made a choking noise as a dart hit his throat. He fell. The other panicked and surrendered to the air. Nothing was there. Dim light leaked into the cave and Sy felt a knife cut away the ropes and gag. He whirled around to see an apparition in black. Before he could scream or attack, he recognized the turquoise eyes. How she got in the mine, Sy never knew. But she rescued him and saved the day. They had taken the remaining guard prisoner.
Dexter had been waiting with the horses impatiently and when he saw them approaching, he hurried over. “I thought . . . It took so long. . . . I’m glad you are safe.”
But he had not been looking at his brother when he said this.
Even though Sy knew it was his duty as the High Prince to marry a Princess, marry whether he loved her or not, it was not easy to think of one day losing Drey. He knew that soon Drey would teach him the shadow techniques and blade warfare to go with the martial fighting style he had mastered. And after that, she would leave. He entertained the notion of asking her to stay on as Master of the Guards, but he knew it would be an insult to her talent. And so to avoid hurting her, he never asked. Instead, he looked forward to each day of practice and to seeing her.
It all changed one night after dinner. He went looking for her to ask her a question on the new wrist lock she had taught him. Sy found her looking deeply into her brother’s eyes. He had left as they started to kiss.
Maybe she was a Princess. Maybe the old man, Shade, had a touch of royalty in his blood? Sy had spent hours searching the library for records of births. But there wasn’t even a mention of Shade in there. Drey was as common as they came, yet so uncommon.
It was a few days later when she disappeared. Dexter did not seem worried, but Sy was out of his mind. If he had the means, he would have taken off to find her, knowing--hoping, that when he found her and rescued her, she would call him her hero and forget about his dopey brother. He would’ve searched all over, from the palace grounds, to the village and the surrounding towns around them. He would’ve gone on many fine adventures and saved many glorious people. . . . . But he went no where. And Drey had not come back yet. Sy went on staring at the ceiling and daydreaming.
Bored with his thoughts, Sy got up and stretched the kinks out of his neck and tried not to think of her. A fly buzzed around his nose and Sy clapped his hands over it, letting the dead carcass drop to the dungeon floor. He should’ve propped the door open when he went in here. But he had wanted to be alone and figured his father’s dungeon would be the last place anyone would come looking for him. Lost in thought, Sy had seen the door slam shut, but by then it was too late. He was locked in until some one came and saved him. He almost preferred the dungeon to that embarrassment. Oh how Dexter would laugh. Sy heard footfalls on the steps outside and tried to fade into the shadows like Drey taught him.
“Is he in there?” a soft female voice murmured.
“Yes, milady, he’s been in there since he heard the news.”
“I better go talk to him,” she said.
The dungeon door creaked open with her touch and Sy turned away to face the wall.
“Sy, haven’t I warned you about daydreaming?” Drey walked up to him, easily finding him in the darkness.
“I figured I was safe here,” he said, moving by her to lie back down on the straw bed. He threw his arm over his eyes.
He felt her smile in the darkness and it hurt him deep inside. “My brother is not a faithful man. Did he tell you about the Duchess Angeline? She’s going to be very upset at him. They were destined to be together.”
“I think I can handle Duchess Angeline, and any of your brother’s unfaithfulness, if he’s so inclined,” Drey said, sitting down next to him.
“You’re father must be proud of you, marrying so well.”
“He is pleased because I am happy. That’s where I’ve been these last few days.”
Sy took a deep breath. “Father says I’m to marry on my nineteenth birthday, you know. That’s only three years from now. And she’s going to be titled and rich and beautiful and ladylike and wonderful!”
“Yes, she will be all that and more.” Drey put her hand on his arm and lifted it away from his eyes.
“But she won’t be you,” he whispered and was blinded by tears.
“She’ll be better,” Drey said and stood up. She dusted the straw off her backside and extended her hand to him. “She won’t make you get up at 5 a.m. and do push-ups. She won’t make you run around the castle until you are ready to vomit.”
Sy hesitated and looked up at her.
“We’ll always be friends. I’ll train your children and my children and we’ll grow
old together.”
He sniffed. “That’s right. We’re family now. You aren’t going to go away.”
“No, I’m not,” she said as he took her hand.
“So, I’m going to get to be in the wedding?”
“Oh, of course my Prince, you will be the star attraction.”
They walked out of the dungeon hand in hand. Sy looked back into the dank room and smiled wistfully. Maybe his princess would know how to break boards with an aerial kick.
“Does this mean, I can skip fight practice today?”
Her mocking laughter echoed up the stairs.
The End
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