I panted as I ran, clutching my aching side. I sat down heavily on a mossy log to think. I knew I had to find answers. Me, a princess? Impossible! But, oh...maybe...I knew that Uncle Michael had adopted me when I was three. But he had taken me from an orphanage. Hadn’t he? How I wished I could remember! But the years were all fuzzy and dark in the back of my mind.
The loud crunching of leaves caught my attention. I lay down on the damp leaves behind the log, poking my head out just far enough to see. As the figure stepped closer, I made out the features of...Will?
I knew I had been spotted and rose from my hiding place, sitting on the log again. Will sat down next to me. After a minute, he cupped my head in his hands and turned my face toward his. I pulled away. I hated to be treated like a baby.
Will sighed and said, “What are you doing, Elena?”
I turned away. “I’m leaving,” I answered with a hardened face. “I have to. Oh...you just won’t understand!”My exasperation, frustration, and confusion were too much to express in words.
Will stared at me. “You know you can’t do that, Ellie. Father would be so upset. Surely the work can’t be that bad.”
I was irritated even though I knew it wasn’t Will’s fault he didn’t know. “It’s not the work! Enolio is a traitor! And I have to find the queen. I have to ask her...I need to know who I am!” I leapt up and ran through the trees away from Will.
“Ellie!”
I kept running.
Soon the woods broke away and I was on the main road. I turned toward the town and continued to run. I had a feeling that Will was following me, but I didn’t care.
Finally I reached the city gates. The guards let me by without a second glance. Relieved, I entered the square. It was market day, and all around were tents and booths full of merchandise and salesmen and women hawking their wares.
I wove in between carts and tables toward a side street. I kept running without looking behind me until the paved road reached a white stone building decorated with gold, silver, and jewels. It was the Castle Grattan. Outside were rows of armed guards. As I saw them, I realized that I hadn’t thought out this part of the plan. Actually, I had no plan. What was I going to do? How could I get inside?
One of the guards gave me a scrutinizing look as I approached him. “No beggars allowed here,” he snapped.
I was indignant. “I am not a beggar,” I retorted. “I have come to see... um...”
“She’s with me,” came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Will. He’d followed me?
The guards gave him inquiring glances. I looked at Will. I could detect a slight nudge of his head toward the right. I looked back and saw an opening through the guards.
“She has some... business to attend to,” Will continued, stalling for time. I saw my chance and darted through the guards. I found the door and slammed it shut behind me. I fumbled for a latch, but felt none in the shadows.
The guards at once saw what I had done and burst in after me. I dove behind a large vase before they could see me. There was confusion for several minutes, and I realized that they were searching the room. I waited tensely in my hiding place.
Then a guard’s eyes saw me behind the pottery and yanked me to my feet. The other guards surrounded us. “Who are you?” one of them demanded.
“Elena Dremont,” I answered defiantly .
The man’s grip on my shoulder weakened. The other guards stepped back and glanced at each other nervously. I stared. Did they know who I really was?
Seizing the moment, I pulled free of the guard’s grip and darted toward a stairway. At the top of the stairs I ran into a hall filled with curtained rooms. I found another staircase and ran halfway up, and then I froze and listened. I heard nothing.
I sank in fatigue to the carpeted floor and laid my hands on my aching sides. After I had caught my breath, I began to think hard. I had to do what I’d come for. After all, this place was the only place that had answers— I thought, anyway. Had I come so far for nothing? I hoped not.
I stood up and continued up the passageway. Maybe the place I was looking for was at the top. The hall I entered was even more beautiful and spacious than the previous one. As I walked slowly down the corridor, faint voices came from one of the chambers. I followed the sound to a bedroom curtained with a silky gold and purple cloth.
I carefully peered in. There, on a richly decorated bed, lay a blonde-haired woman. Her face was flushed and feverish, but I could recognize her features as those belonging to Queen Renice. She was being attended to by a maid, who was holding a bowl of soup and coaxing the frail woman to drink it.
I suddenly felt very out of place. Turning, I was about to leave when the sound of pounding feet coming up the stairway made me freeze. Scarcely believing I was doing it, I slipped into the bedroom and slid under the queen’s bed, heart pounding.
The queen gave a start, and the bed creaked above me as the queen tried to sit up. “Who was that?”
“What d’ye mean, your Majesty?” the maid answered. “I didn’t see nobody.”
“I...thank you, Sarah, you can go now. I’m not very hungry anyway. Let me rest awhile.”
“All right, ma’am. Sleep well.” Dishes clinked, and the hem of the maid’s black skirt passed the bed and left the room. There was a soft thud as the door closed.
I waited in the shadows, biting my lip. Then the creaking above me began again.
“Little girl,” I heard. “Little girl, you need not hide from me. What is your name?”
I was caught.
Timidly I pushed my way out from under the bed and stood before the reclining queen. I knew my face was as red as a wild strawberry.
The queen turned to look at me. “Why are you here?” she asked.
I looked at my shoes. I hardly knew the answer myself. But she required an answer. “I was...I wanted to...I...” I stammered.
The queen smiled. “What is your name?”
“Elena,” I answered.
The queen nodded. “What is your last name?”
“I...I don’t know exactly,” I stammered. It was true. I didn’t know. Uncle Michael had given me his own surname, Dremont.
“Are you lost?” the woman asked in a kind voice.
I shook my head. “I came to find...answers,” I stammered. This is unreal. I am talking to…the QUEEN.
“Answers to what?”
“I don’t know who I am.” There, I had said it.
The queen looked thoughtful. “Who do you live with?”
“My Uncle Michael and his son and daughter. I was adopted when I was three.” I didn’t know why I was saying all this to a perfect stranger, the queen of all people, but something about her soft demeanor made me feel at home. More at home than I could ever remember.
I decided to tell her everything. “My sister and I went to Lord Enolio’s house to work this morning,” I continued. “And I overheard the king and Enolio...” the tears came to my eyes. “And Enolio said that I was...that I was your...” I stopped and looked at the queen. Tears were streaming down her face.
“Elena?” she whispered. “After all these years?”
I didn’t know what to say. “I...am?”
The lady nodded, and then opened her arms. “Oh, Elena, come here! Sweet daughter—”
I burst into tears. She smelled of sweet flowers and sunshine, and as I sank into her embrace I was filled with a wistful sadness that I had not known her, had not loved her sooner. But questions still pounded in my head, and a minute later I ventured to ask,
“Ma’am...um, Mama?” the word was so unfamiliar to me. She cupped my face in her hands, and I didn’t feel like shrinking away at all.
“Why was I at the orphanage?”
She held me close. “When you were very young,” her voice cracked, “You were lost at a picnic in the woods. We never saw you again.” Fresh tears wetted my hair. “But you’re back now. You’re home, sweet Elena. I won’t let you go again.”
Then came a terrible thought. “Mama!” I exclaimed, sitting up straight. “King Edw—my father—Enolio killed...” I put my head in my hands.
“What is it, dear?” my Mama asked, and in her voice was fear. “What about Enolio?”
I looked back up at her, tears in my eyes. “He—Enolio caught him, and oh, Mama...”
“Where is he?” Mama asked. She gave me a little shake to sober me. “Where is your father?”
“I don’t know!” I wept. “I don’t know!”
Then voices rose in the hall.

 With a gasp, I leapt off the bed and scooted underneath it. The voices grew louder, and then there was a thud as the door opened. Black boots entered the room and stood around the bed.
“Your Majesty,” a deep voice growled, “Did a girl enter this room?”
There was no answer. I could hear my heavy breathing and hoped no one else did.
The man sighed. “Never mind, then.” He exited the room, followed by the other men.
No sooner did the door thud behind them then it opened again. A pair of black boots with silver spurs walked into the room.
“Your Majesty,” came a voice. Enolio's voice! I froze.
“Yes?” my mother whispered.
“I am sure you have been informed of your husband’s absence. He left this morning to meet with me on an important issue. I am afraid that armed men overtook him and managed to assassinate him. I am sorry for the grief it must cause you.”
These words were said in such a callous manner that I clenched my teeth with rage at Enolio from under the bed. My poor mother!
The creaking from above my head resumed. “You are a liar,” declared my mother in a brave voice, though there were tears in her voice as well. “You killed my husband yourself, you horrible man. You will be imprisoned for life for this deed!”
Enolio’s silver spurred boots shifted. When he spoke again, his voice was calm. “So I see you have spies, as I do,” he said. “Commendable, but futile. My plans have gone much farther than you had anticipated. Even now you are dying, a victim of a poison that has been slipped into your food and drink by one of my associates.”
I was stunned. My mother was poisoned?
My mother’s voice was weaker. “You forget that there are many on my side as well. You can never succeed against those who believe in righteousness and truth.”
Enolio gave a laugh. “I have more on my side than you know,” he said in a cold voice. “And as for your long-lost daughter? Well, she is in my hands at this very moment.” He paused, expecting, I supposed, a sign of surprise and horror from my mother. Apparently he received none.
“Well, I see that you have received word about your daughter. Never mind, she will never see your face. She thinks herself an orphan, you know. She will be an ally to me as I gain the throne of the late king and queen.” His sneering voice chilled me.
“So I leave you to your death, Queen Renice...and remember...there is no use in opposing me. I am afraid you would regret the act.” With that, the man crossed the bedroom and left, closing the door behind him with an ominous thud. I could hear his footfalls grow fainter as they sounded down the hall.
I waited a moment to make sure he had left, and then scrambled out from under the bed. I looked at my mother. Her face was pale and drawn.
“Mama...” I whispered.
She looked at me with sad eyes. “I’m so sorry, Elena,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I knew I had to get her out of there. I grabbed her hand. “Come on, Mama, let’s go. We have to leave now!”
She shook her head. “I can’t, Elena. You have to go without me.”
“No, no!” I exclaimed. I yanked off the bed covers. “Come on, Mama! I’m not leaving without you!”
“You can’t carry me, sweetie.” She protested. “You can’t stay here. Please, go, Elena! He’ll be back, I know it!”
I was crying now. “But he’ll find us! I know he will! I can’t do anything to stop him, Mama! You have to come and help me!”
Her white hand stroked mine. “Yes, you can, Elena. You can try. God will help you; I know it.”
I shook my head and sobbed, “No, Mama! Don’t stay here...”
Footfalls sounded in the hall again. Fear appeared on my mother’s face. “Go, Elena! There, behind the curtain– there’s a window. Open it and you can climb down the flower trellis. Go, sweetheart!”
I ran to the curtain and yanked it to the side. I fumbled with the window latch and opened it. Grabbing my skirt, I climbed out and gave one last backward look at my mother, before climbing down the trellis and leaping to the ground. I was at the corner of the Castle. Seeing the woods, I turned and ran, hoping no guards had seen me.
As I rounded a bend, I was startled by a sudden movement as someone darted out from behind a tree. It was Will.
“Where have you been?” he hissed, jogging beside me. “It took forever to get rid of those guards, and then lord Enolio himself came and I had to hide or he’d know I wasn’t working at his mansion.”
“I’ll explain later.” Will must have noticed the tear marks on my cheeks, but he did not speak again.
It was afternoon when we broke onto the dirt road. We made our way through the market as discreetly as possible. I saw the chimney’s smoke as I reached Uncle Michael’s house. Though I had lived there from the age of three, it had never truly felt like my house. Especially now, I reflected, since I knew who I really was.
What am I going to tell Uncle Michael?
Jenna and Uncle Michael were sitting around the fireplace when we entered the house. Uncle Michael’s eyes were serious. Jenna didn’t meet my gaze.
“Sit, Elena,” Uncle Michael told me. I obeyed. Will stood behind me, solemn.
“I need to explain something to you,” my uncle began. “When you were very young, I brought you home from the city orphanage. I didn’t know that you had any royal background or that you had been lost at a picnic. But now that you are older, it seems you have figured it out for yourself.”
He nodded toward Jenna. “Enolio gave her the rest of the day off. Considering the circumstances, she thought I should all, er—know the situation.”
Jenna remained silent and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
Uncle Michael spoke again. “Elena, we want to help you. But you’re going to need more help. Tomorrow I’ll go and see if I can round up some townspeople to give us some assistance. And Will and Jenna are going to see if they can find anyone at the lord’s mansion that can help us too.”
I glanced at Jenna. Her eyes were full of tears. She looked as though she were about to speak, so I put a finger on her lips.
“I was listening behind the curtain,” I told her, and her eyes widened. “Don’t worry, it’s okay,” I consoled her. But then I remembered what Jenna had promised Enolio. Jenna seemed to understand my silence.
“I would never do anything to hurt you,” Jenna said tearfully. “But I was so frightened...”
I smiled and reached for her hand. She squeezed mine and smiled through her tears, then gave me a hug. I wanted to relax, but there were too many worries scrambling around in my head. I turned to Will and Uncle Michael, but my uncle had disappeared. I gave Will a questioning look.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. He just left.”
____________________________________________________________________________________
The next morning, I met Uncle Michael coming down the front walk. He had been gone all night.
“Uncle, where have you been?” I asked. He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t explain now, Elena. But this is for you.” He handed me a rolled up parchment with Elena Dremont written on it in ink.
“Where did you get this?” I asked, taking the scroll.
“At the city square,” he answered. “A man in black handed it to me.”
I nearly dropped the parchment. “A man in black!?”
His eyes were serious. “Do you want me to open it?”
I contemplated the offer. “Let’s go inside.”
Will and Jenna looked over my shoulder as I read:
By order of Sir Enolio, Lord of the Mansion Kharice, we do now formally take up arms against Elena Dremont and her company, and will subdue her and her said company, due to the vast extent of our army, if she does not do three things, to wit:
1. She must surrender any and all of her company, men and women and any children they possess to Lord Enolio and his company, to be used as he sees fit.
2. She must relinquish all inventories, including weapons, to be used under the discretion of Lord Enolio.
3. She must solemnly swear to be humbly obedient under the rule of Lord Enolio, soon to be King of Aria, and never to rise up against him, lest great misfortune fall upon her.
If this treaty of peace is not accepted, the Lord Enolio will most certainly fall upon you and your company and not only kill as he sees fit, but also imprison and torture any he wishes, under the seal of the King of Aria, when he so comes to the throne.
Signed, Sir Enolio, Lord of the Mansion Kharice
Will and Jenna looked at me with serious eyes. Uncle Michael sat next to the fireplace, staring off into the flames.
I knew I could never submit to that horrible scoundrel, but oh, how could we possibly oppose him? I could never send anyone to their death and live without guilt for the rest of my life. But my mother’s words rang in my ears... “Yes, you can, Elena. You can try. God will help you; I know it.”
Resolved, I lifted the treaty and tore it lengthwise, then again, and again, until all I held was shreds. I turned to my Uncle and tossed the shreds into his lap. They floated this way and that and settled around his feet on the hearth.
“Please return these to the Lord Enolio,” I said firmly. He reached down, grabbed a handful of shreds without a word, then rose and left. I realized that I felt different. I was no longer undecided. I knew I was Princess Elena of Aria.
Now all I needed was an army.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬-_____________________________________________________________________________________
As I stood in the kitchen that afternoon, stirring a pot of soup for our evening meal, I heard a commotion from outside. Gathering up the vegetable scraps in my apron, I stepped outside into the street.
Men and women were coming down the path to our house by the dozens. I recognized friends from the market and men who owned shops in town. Others were clad in mail and had swords strapped to their sides. Was this Uncle Michael’s doing?
A great shout rose from the small crowd and they all rushed forward. I turned bright red and stepped backward, dropping my apron. Potato peels and carrot stems tumbled to the ground, and my face blushed even redder.
Several women grabbed my hands and shook them vigorously, some kissing them, even though they were stained with vegetable juice. Others came and bowed before me. I didn’t know what to think. Where was Uncle Michael? There—I saw him near the back of the crowd. He saw my pleading look and hurried forward.
“Thank you all!” he called above the clamor, and the voices quieted. “I am pleased that you would accept this invitation so readily. But there is a battle to fight—one which Aria has never seen the likes of. We will need your assistance. But for a moment, give me and the princess a moment to talk.” The seriousness of his voice and manner was surprising to me. What’s more, he had never called me “princess” before. It had always been “Elena” or “Ellie”.
He pulled me aside. “Elena,” he began, “These people are here to help. I knew that we needed a fortress of some sort to assemble ourselves in, so I assembled some men to build one in the Pine Forest a mile or so behind our house. Is that all right?”
“Of course,” I said, rather bewildered. Everything was happening so fast! Uncle Michael was about to speak again when shouts rose from the crowd.
“The house!” “Fire!” “Your Majesty, your house!”
We whirled around. Smoke was pouring out of the chimney.
“Oh, NO!” My uncle left me and ran in the back door.
“No, Uncle!” I exclaimed. I turned to the crowd. “Please, somebody help him!”
More than half the crowd, mostly men, rushed forward and into the house. Most of the women dashed for the stream. I ran to the shed and unbolted it. Three men behind me rushed inside and carried out wooden buckets. I grabbed one and ran to the stream, filling it and running back toward the house.
After what seemed like a lifetime, the door burst open, letting loose a huge cloud of smoke which filled the front yard and misted our eyes. Through the choking grayness I saw two men stumble out of the house, carrying a body between them.
“Uncle Michael!” I cried, dropping my bucket. Smoke burned in my nostrils. The men laid him on the grass as I ran to his side. His face was blackened from smoke, but—oh, thank goodness—he gave a cough and struggled to sit up.
The men helped him to a sitting position. “Are you all right?” I exclaimed. He nodded, still coughing. When he was able to speak, he rasped, “I tried, Elena, but it was too far gone...” He lay back down again, exhausted from the effort. I looked up at the house. The chimney was now in flames, the thatched roof turning black from the scorching heat and then collapsing in a burst and shower of sparks. Our house was gone.

My skirt caught on a thorny vine. Two women from behind me helped to pull it free, and I gave them a little smile as we continued down the path. The whole crowd of us was walking through the woods behind Uncle Michael and the men who had been in charge of the project. The construction of our new fortress had taken several weeks and we were all going now to see the results. Meanwhile, Jenna, Will, Uncle and I had stayed in a small cottage close to the city.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      
I smelled chimney smoke before I saw it wisping into the sky. Over the excited crowd I could make out the peaks of brick towers. A moment later a young man pushed through the crowd and grabbed my hand. At my surprised look, he explained, “Your Majesty, I am Theodore Flautner. Please come with me.” Wondering, I followed as he pushed a path through the jostling men and women and we broke away from the crowd into the clearing. I had to gasp in astonishment at the vastness of the project that had been completed. Towers crested a huge stone fortress that was so wide I couldn’t see the other side.
Theodore led me around the fortress to a curtained door on the side. He gave a little bow and said, “Here are your quarters, your Majesty. When you are ready, I would like to meet you outside.” I nodded, and he left.
I stepped inside hesitantly. The room was spacious and cheery. A long soft bed stood against the wall, and a cherry wood wardrobe stood open. I looked inside to see several dark colored dresses, all my size. They were soft as silk. I ran my hand along the bottom of the closet and felt a pair of brown women’s boots. Standing again, I looked around the room in pleasure. Someone had evidently spent valuable time preparing it for me. But, I reminded myself, I was the princess Elena. I would have to get used to it.
After washing my face in a china pitcher, I changed out of my rather muddy dress and slipped on a fresh dark green one. I twirled in front of the mirror, silently admiring the swirl of the silky skirt. I stepped back outside, much refreshed and eager to find Theo. What did he want with me?
Uncle Michael came around the corner. I smiled and gave him a hug. He squeezed me back.
“How do you like it, Ellie?” he asked in the low tenor voice I loved so well.
I grinned. “It’s beautiful. Where are you staying?”
“In the left wing. I’ve got to be in the section with the other smiths. We’ll be making artillery: swords, spears, and that kind of thing. Speaking of which,” he straightened and stretched his back wryly, “I’ve got to be getting over there. Bye, Ellie.”
He kissed me on the cheek and left.
I could hear men’s voices, so I followed the sound to a grassy space behind the fortress.
The lawn was bustling with activity. Men walked back and forth with buckets, axes and swords, and a whetstone whizzed. Before I could take many steps, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I saw Jenna, looking happier than she had for a long time.
I gave her a hug. “Isn’t this place beautiful?”
She nodded with a smile. “It’s lovely! I have a room just opposite to yours. Then we can sit on my bed at night and talk. Oh, and Will and I got a lot of people from the mansion to come and help. Isn’t that great? Even old Arnold, Will’s boss.”
  I giggled at the thought of the plump man crossing swords with Lord Enolio. Jenna laughed too. “He wanted to help, so I figured we could use all the people we can get.” But then a shadow crossed her face. “I still have to work at the Mansion Kharice, at least until the end of the month. That’s what the contract said. Dad and I checked yesterday.” She lowered her voice. “I think the lord wants me to spy on you.” She must have interpreted the look on my face, because she gave me a wry grin. “Don’t worry. Father said I might be able to give him false information.”
I grinned back at her. “Don’t worry; I know you wouldn’t betray me.”
Jenna looked over my shoulder, and an odd expression came over her face. With a hurried, “Goodbye, I’ll see you later,” she hurried off.
Perplexed, I looked behind me to see Theodore walking toward me. I looked back toward Jenna—she had disappeared.
“Your Majesty,” Theodore said with a small bow, “I want to introduce you to someone.” He beckoned, and Arnold joined us. I had only seen him on occasion, but he was as round and cheerful as ever.
“Hello, my dear,” he said with a smile. “Theodore and I are going to be teaching you a few things.” He reminded me of an old, wise grandfather.
Theodore nodded. “Elena, have you had fencing lessons before?”
I nodded, feeling pleased. “Several.”
Theodore seemed surprised. “Really? Who taught you?”
“My Uncle Michael.”
Theodore looked skeptical—one eyebrow above the other. “I see. One moment, please.”
He turned and walked toward three young men grinding swords on a whetstone.
I pursed my lips. Theodore didn’t believe that I could swordfight. Well, I’d show him.
“No, no, no,” I could hear him say to the men grinding swords. “Not so sharp. We are only practicing. There now, these two,” and he selected two swords from the pile beside them. A moment later he joined us and handed me a sword with its sword belt.
As I buckled it on, Arnold reached for the other one.
Theodore looked even more surprised. “You, sir?”
He nodded. “May I?”
Without a word, Theodore let him take the sword and returned to the whetstone to get another for himself.
Inside I smiled. The old gardener was going to teach me to swordfight?
Arnold must have seen my amused look, for he said with serious eyes, “Looks can be deceiving, Elena. Remember that.”
That sobered me. Theodore then joined us again.                                                                                                                                                                                            
“Ready then?” he inquired. “Let’s go. Follow me, please.” He led us through the crowd to a grassy clearing.
Arnold stepped aside, and I stood before Theodore.
“First of all,” Theodore began, “You must call me Theo. Now, I do not know how much you have learned previously, so I am going to test your skill with the sword. Ready? Go!”
His sword clashed against mine. He was strong for his size and build. It took all the effort I had to parry his heavy blows. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a crowd growing around us, causing a glimmer of nervousness to tighten my throat. That moment of distraction was enough—Theo’s sword twisted mine from my hand and flung it to the ground.
He lowered his sword.
“Rest a moment,” he said, and, thankful, I sat down on the grass. Theo retrieved my sword and handed it back to me.
Arnold came to my side. “The crowd distracted you, I know,” he said. “In a battle, there will be many distractions. You must keep your mind on the task at hand or it may be your undoing.”
I nodded, trying to be teachable. My pride had been hurt. I didn’t know as much as I thought I had, and to fail in public was doubly embarrassing.
Arnold seemed to read my dismal thoughts. “Don’t worry, dear,” he encouraged. “It’s just your first try. You’ll get better. Next time, remember to aim for his legs. And now,” he said louder, standing up, “I’m going to see how well young Theodore can fight this ‘old gardener’.”
I saw a twinkle in his eye. Theo seemed at ease, however. “All right,” he gave assent, drawing his sword. “Hurrah!”
His blade clashed down upon Arnold’s in a shower of sparks. Arnold parried and sent back a blow with surprising strength. Theo blocked it, and the next few minutes were a flurry of flashing steel and whirling blades. Arnold was holding his ground admirably, even forcing Theo back several steps to meet and parry his blows. The crowd was shouting with excitement, some cheering for Theo, others for Arnold.
The fight ended unexpectedly when Theo’s left boot caught on a smooth stone which slipped under his weight, sending him crashing into the undergrowth of leaves and brambles.
Arnold stood, out of breath and puffing with a wide smile, and leaning on his sword.
A few men from the crowd helped Theo untangle himself. He had a wry grin on his dusty, sweaty face. “Well done, sir,” he remarked, sheathing his sword. Then, in fun—“We’ll make a swordsman of you yet.”
The crowd laughed. I had to smile. Perhaps things wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

I sank into a chair. Uncle Michael, Theo, and Arnold looked grave. I handed Theo a scroll which read:
By order of Sir Enolio, Lord of the Mansion Kharice, we do now formally take up arms against Elena Dremont and her company, and will subdue her and her said company, due to her refusal to sign and return the treaty of peace which Sir Enolio had so graciously issued, and now call Elena Dremont and her company to war in the Valley Bracken, three weeks from the date this is received.
Signed, Sir Enolio, Lord of the Mansion Kharice.
  Theo scanned it, frowning deeply. Lowering it, he handed it to my uncle. “It appears that war is coming earlier than we’d reckoned,” he declared, squatting by the hearth.
“Can we—will we be able to win?” I asked with a knot in my stomach. Throughout the weeks of training I had been trying to ignore the gossip that Enolio had been preparing a vast army.
Theo shrugged. “I don’t know.” He poked the sputtering logs with a poker, staring into the bouncing flames with a look on his face which didn’t particularly raise my hopes.
Uncle Michael read the scroll, Arnold reading over his shoulder. Then my uncle rolled it up and, with an oath, threw it into the flames.
Theo and I looked at each other. My uncle had not been acting like himself the last few weeks. I guess it was just the tenseness of the war to come.
Arnold laid a hand on my uncle’s shoulder, but he shook it off and left the meeting room, muttering under his breath.
Theo stood again and began to pace the room. “We could challenge his choice of battleground, but I can’t think of any better one. What do you think, Elena?”
I thought it over. “The Valley should be a good choice. And we must gather all the horses. We should organize the men into companies and find generals for each group. Arnold, do you think Graham could lead one of the companies?”
Arnold nodded. “He appears to have good leadership. We should have at least five companies. Then four can fight with another for backup.”
I drew out sketch on a piece of paper. “See? Graham could lead the charge. We’ll organize the army into quarters, with the medical tent behind the lines. The artillery wagon could be next to the medical tent, don’t you think? But the backup regiment should hide, maybe in the forest, so they can join us if we need them.”
Theo and Arnold exchanged glances. “Let’s talk it over first,” Theo suggested. “There’s a lot that could go wrong.”
I blushed and looked away. Great start, princess.
As the two discussed plans together, I gazed out the window, watching the falling rain. Outside, a cat pounced on a passing mouse and tore it with its fangs. What a horrible way to die, I thought. It seemed an omen of some sort. Were we to be torn to pieces as well? I sighed worriedly.
“Elena?” Theo was speaking.
I started. “Yes?”
“We think you had better stay in the medical tent during the battle.”
I was indignant. “What?! After all the work you and Arnold have put into my training, you’re both going to leave me on the sidelines?”
“You’ll get killed!” exclaimed Theo, waving his hands. “And you’ll put everything we’ve worked for into the garbage heap!”
Arnold sighed. “Elena, helping in the medical tent is very important. Besides, the point is to keep you safe. If you’re put somewhere in the ranks, Enolio’s army is going to single you out immediately. At least you’ll be able to watch the fight.”
I frowned. “That’s the problem. The war is about me; therefore I need to be fighting alongside you. I shouldn’t just send you out alone.”
Arnold waved a hand at Theo, who was starting to turn red in the face. “Elena, we have to keep you safe at all costs, so no arguing. Don’t you understand? Enolio has no right to the throne except through YOU.”
I didn’t catch his meaning. “What?”
He sighed. “Elena, Enolio cannot openly usurp the throne. He knows that. He’s going to want to marry into the royal family.”
My mouth opened slightly in horror.
Arnold looked me in the eyes and said very, very gravely, “Elena, you must stay in the tent or all that we’ve done here is for nothing. Do you understand?”
I nodded, but tears were gathering in my eyes. I turned my face to hide them.
¬_________________________________________________________________-____________________
The night before the planned battle, I was too excited and nervous to sleep. There was too much noise outside to sleep anyway. I got out of bed and went to the window. Shadows danced in the light of the flickering torches, and men and women were carrying supplies from the sheds to the wagons. I slipped on a coat and went out.
General Graham was stacking crates in the back of a wagon. “Princess,” he said, looking rather surprised. “Why are you out here?”
“I want to help,” I answered. Graham smiled. “Go find some of the women in the kitchen area. They could probably use you.”
I grinned at him, pleased that I wasn't getting a scolding, and hurried off to the kitchen.
I entered the bustling room, where the air was hot and stuffy as the women packed bandages and pins and other things into wooden boxes. One of them noticed me and put me to work. It was almost one in the morning when everything was done. All the boxes and barrels and the collapsible medical tent were packed in wagons and carts. The artillery wagon had been well-stocked, and the whole procession mounted on horses and set out toward the Valley Bracken.
When we got to the site, the whole landscape was eerie. Not a soul save our own company could be seen. Theo, Graham, and several other generals set to work unloading in the pale pink/orange light onto the left slope of the valley. By mid-morning all was ready. The men gathered into ranks and seemed uneasy. Arnold hustled me into the medical tent where the women and I waited in worried silence.
Tremendous shouts split the air. I jerked open the tent flap, heart pounding. An enormous army of soldiers in black mail and flashing spears had emerged from the woods behind our army. They had caught us in the rear!
Arnold ran at me, shouting, “Follow me! It’s too dangerous!”
I stumbled out of the tent and after him as he hurried around the front lines (which were now the back lines). Our army had realized the situation and turned completely around so that they could face our attackers. I realized that now the women and their medical tents were in the front now, completely vulnerable. The plan I’d been so proud of had gone terribly wrong.
Arnold grabbed my arm and dragged me up the side of the valley to a mossy outcropping under a ridge. Beneath it was a small cave. “Get in and stay!” he shouted, and I dared not disobey. I had never seen Arnold like this before. His eyes were fire.
The ledge gave me a complete view of what was going on below. My heart sank as I saw what our army didn’t—another regiment of black-mailed soldiers coming up from the other side of the valley. Our men and women were trapped in between.
Theo was fighting valiantly; his sword slashed with amazing speed. But he too saw the danger. “Retreat! Follow me!” he shouted to his men, and they followed him as fast as they could without being diced in the process.
  Theo raced up the hill with his men close behind. I saw that he was heading for the woods, most likely hoping that his men would be able to spread out and hide before Enolio’s men caught up.
I breathed a sigh of relief as Theo’s company of men disappeared into the forest. But the others weren’t doing so well. Some of the men had lost their swords and were forced to continue fighting with their fists. Where were the extra swords? They were being pushed back from the artillery tent; it was too far for them to reach. What was happening?
I could see Lord Enolio himself at the rear of the lines, slashing away with dreadful vengeance. Oh, if only I could get at him!
Arnold was shouting something to his men, and nearly half of them ducked under their opponent’s sword and ran backward toward the tents. I realized that they were trying to reach the artillery tent, but after a few minutes I doubted that they would be successful. The men had not retrieved the bows and quivers, and despite the battle’s confusion I could tell that something was terribly wrong.
A moment later, Arnold’s remaining men rushed for the forest, followed by two of the other regiments. Graham’s regiment was trapped in between two walls of black mailed soldiers. I could only watch in growing dread and panic. Then Enolio worked his way through the jostle of fighting men and beheaded Graham with a swipe of his sword. I gave a strangled gasp of pain and buried my head in my hands, weeping. My heart panged in my chest till it hurt. Graham—poor Graham! He had been such a dear man, and Arnold’s friend… now I would never see him again on earth.
I watched with a breaking heart as the rest of Graham’s regiment slowly shrank until none were left. I felt a horrible sense of defeat. How could this happen, after all our work?
I heard a hiss. “Elena!”
I turned to see Theo beckoning frantically from behind a log. “Hurry!”
I ran.
“What—went wrong?” I gasped as we dashed through the forest, tripping on the taut vines.
Theo’s face was hard and frozen. “We were betrayed,” he answered, not looking at me.
I was shocked. A spy? “Who? Do you know who it was?”
Theo shook his head. “Someone stole all of our arrows and all the extra swords. It’s surprising that any of us are alive.” He pursed his lips and said no more.
  It was late afternoon when we reached our camp. Women were weeping, and wounded men lay on cloths on the ground. A dark cloud of despair and sadness settled down on all of us; everything seemed slow and foggy as sobs broke the thick silence. Rain began to fall as we gathered our wounded and buried our dead. No one spoke to me—for which I was grateful.

I was walking down the hall toward my room that night when a red-haired woman in a cloak blocked my way. Her eyes were red and her face was streaked from weeping. I recognized her—the wife of General Graham.
“This is your fault!” she wailed, shaking her messy hair, wet from the rain. Her eyes were full of grief and anger. “My husband died because you” –she pointed accusingly—“are so greedy for wealth and power that you would send innocent men to die for your selfishness! It was your plans that caused us to lose the battle and murdered my innocent husband!”
I couldn’t speak.
“You killed my husband!” she screeched, wringing her hands. “You killed him! I hate you! I hate you!”
I stepped backward and ran back down the hall, almost colliding with Arnold. He assessed the situation with a glance and said quietly, “Go on to bed, Elena.”
I was glad to obey, turning for a moment to see Arnold with his arm around the distraught widow, leading her down the hall.
Tears spilled from my eyes. I ran into my room and fell onto my bed in despair and grief. What had I done? Was this really all my fault?
_____________________________________________________________________________________
The morning was cold, humid, and foggy. As I looked around, weary and depressed faces met my glances. No one spoke to me as I ate my morning meal in silence. I could feel that they blamed me for yesterday’s failure.
I had to get a hold on myself. Our freedom was lost if I couldn’t think of something. Something! Something to raise us out of this pit of miserable existence. I bit my lip until it bled and stung.
Will summoned me to the meeting room as I finished my meal. I noticed his silent, angry eyes as we went down the corridor. I knew he was infuriated at whoever had betrayed us.
Jenna, Theo, Arnold, and the three remaining generals were waiting for us.
“Where’s Uncle?” I asked Arnold. He shook his head sadly, sending a flash of horror through my heart.
“Where is he?!” I demanded. Arnold spoke gently. “He never returned from the battle. I’m so sorry, Elena.”
I sank into a chair and burst into tears. My Uncle—the only father I had ever known—gone? The whole weight of my thoughtlessness and wretchedness crashed upon me. I had killed the only father I had ever known, all because of the pride that had kept me from asking help from those who knew better.
The men stood in respectful silence, murmuring a few condolences as best as they could. Through a mist of tears I looked up at Will. His face was steady, though a solitary tear mark streaked his face.
I stood shakily and left the meeting room. Jenna followed me down the hall. With a broken heart I sat down on my bed and wept.
Jenna let me cry. After my tears slowed, she sat down beside me and I lay my head in her lap. We sat in silence for several minutes, Jenna’s hand stroking my tangled hair.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
We sat in the dining hall together: Will, Jenna and I—each of us silent in our own thoughts. Jenna wasn’t touching her food, and her red, miserable eyes showed how deeply she also was feeling the loss of her father.
There was a bustle of commotion from outside. I barely noticed. The dining hall’s doors swung open, and Theo ran in.
“Come here, you three,” he exclaimed, and there was something in his voice which gave me a faint glimmer of hope.
We followed him down the halls to where Arnold stood with a bedraggled man in a black cape.
“Elena,” said the man, and Jenna collapsed.
In a moment I was in his arms and crying harder than I ever had in my life.
“Elena,” my uncle sighed, hugging me back. Through my tears I sensed both relief and pain in my adoptive father’s voice.
I looked at Arnold, who was grinning broadly.
“Wh-wh-how-?” I stammered.
“I became lost in the forest after the battle,” my uncle answered me. “I was fortunate to make it back.” Will reached over me to embrace his father, and we both clung to him in disbelieving joy.
“Where is Jenna?” my uncle asked, and there was fear in his eyes.
“Right here,” Theo replied, helping Jenna to her feet. Her face was pale, but her eyes were full of joy.
My uncle swung her up and held her tight. “Thank God you’re safe, all of you,” he sighed. “I was so worried for you.”
Arnold patted him on the back. “Glad to have you back with us,” he said with emotion.
Uncle Michael nodded. “I am so sorry about the battle.”
Again I felt a twinge of guilt. Was freedom really worth all of this pain?  But at least we were all safe again—for now.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
That night I was on my way down the hall to bed when I heard murmuring from a lighted corridor near my room. Curiously I stepped toward the sound—and froze before I turned the corner. The voices were Jenna’s and Theo’s. Flattening myself against the wall, I listened to their conversation.
“...being there when we needed you.”
“Thank you. I’m impressed with your work in the kitchen and medical room as well. All of us working together are the only way to stop this movement.”
I heard a rustle of skirts. “I have to say I admire you very much, General.”
“Just call me Theo.” Pause. “You look very nice tonight.”
My brow furrowed. I had never heard Theo speak like that to anyone before.
Another pause. “Perhaps you would not object to my coming to see you once in a while?”
Jenna’s voice was soft. “I would not object to that.”
“Good. I will speak to your father about the matter. And,”—here Theo’s voice grew louder—“From the looks of the hem of that dress I can see in that far corner, it appears we have an eavesdropper by the name of Elena.”
I choked. Stepping backwards quickly, I turned and bumped into Will.
“Whoa, steady there, Elena,” he cautioned with a grin. “Why aren’t you in bed yet?”
My face was bright red as I turned and dashed into my room, shutting the door quickly behind me.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
I woke to the sound of shouts and clanging steel. I ripped off the bedcovers and pulled on a bathrobe.
Will joined me in the hall.
“What’s going on?” I asked. He shook his head. “I don’t know. Stay next to me, Ellie.” I followed him down the hall to one of the exits.
The night was cold and humid. Lanterns flashed in the distance. My bare feet squished against the damp grass as I hurried to keep pace with Will.
Arnold, Theo, and Jenna met us at the edge of the woods.
“What’s going on?” Will called.
“We don’t know yet. Come with us,” Theo called back. Our small group hurried through the tangled branches, the light from Arnold’s lantern glistening over the leaves. 
Finally we could see the commotion. Three men stood fighting with swords and fists in a small clearing lighted by lanterns.
Theo ran forward and grabbed the cloak of one of the men. The man shook it off savagely and punched Theo in the face.
Theo staggered backwards, blood streaming from his face. Jenna screamed.
There was a cry from one of the men, and he collapsed. One of his assailants gave him a kick, and the other smashed one of the nearby lanterns with his boot. Flames flickered up in the pine straw as the two men melted into the darkness.
Will grabbed fistfuls of wet leaves and tried to smother the flames. I yanked off my robe and helped to beat the fire out.
Arnold was examining the fallen man. Will and I joined him. Arnold lifted the lantern for us to see—and its glimmer shone upon the features of my uncle!
I gasped. “Uncle Michael!”
Will shook his father gently. “Father, are you all right?”
A faint sigh came from his cold lips. Arnold handed me the lantern. “He’s hurt. Hold that light steady.”
I cringed as Will and Arnold opened my uncle’s shirt. Blood streamed across his chest.
Will tore a strip off his shirt and tried to stop the flow of blood. Arnold shook his head. “We’ll have to carry him. Grab his feet, son.”
Carefully they lifted his body off the ground.
“Shine that light ahead of us, Elena,” Arnold directed, and I walked ahead of them with the lantern, shivering because of the loss of my robe.
After Will and Arnold set my Uncle down again, I handed Will the lantern and dashed back off into the woods.
“Jenna?” I called into the darkness, wishing I’d brought the lantern.
“Over here,” she answered. She was sitting next to Theo, who was holding her handkerchief to his streaming nose.
“Are you all right, Theo?” I asked with concern. He nodded and gave me a wry grin. “I’ll be fine. How’s the man?”
I swallowed hard. “It’s Uncle Michael.”
Jenna sucked in her breath. “Is he all right?”
“I don’t know,” I answered.
Theo looked at Jenna. “Go to him, both of you. I’ll be fine.”
Jenna looked indecisive. “Are you sure?”
He nodded with a smile. A look passed between them which I had never seen before. Jenna’s face turned pink. Oh brother.
“Let’s go, Jenna,” I beckoned. She followed behind me as we returned to the fortress.
Arnold and Will met us at the door. “He’s lost a lot of blood,” Will answered our unspoken question, “but the sword wound was superficial. He’s unconscious now.”
My uncle’s face was pale and drawn. He was mumbling faintly. I knelt by his side and put my ear near his mouth.
“...I didn’t mean it...I was...I didn’t mean it...” he was delirious.
I looked up at Theo, who stood at the end of the bed. His face was serious. Turning, he left the room.
I followed him down the dark hall. “Theo?”
“What is it, Elena?” he asked.
“What’s wrong?”
He turned to look at me. “I’m not sure you want to hear this.”
My throat tightened. “Tell me.”
He sat down on a bench against the wall. “You know there was a spy, don’t you.”
I nodded.
“I’m starting to suspect, um...well, Michael.”
I jumped to my feet. “WHAT?”
Theo put his finger to my lips, but I pushed him away furiously. “You’ve gone absolutely mad!”
Will peered around the corner of the hall and hissed, “Quiet, please!”
I lowered my voice to an angry whisper. “My FATHER almost gets killed TWICE and you’re suspecting him of betraying us? I can’t believe it!”
Theo pulled me down to sit beside him. “I was just having suspicions, Elena. It was a little unusual that he got lost in these woods, you know. He’s lived here all his life. And he WOULD have access to the swords and arrows.”
“So would a hundred other people!” I hissed. I stamped my foot. “I just wouldn’t believe it of you, Theo. To accuse my father!!”
With a final glare, I stood and hurried back into the sickroom. Arnold had joined Jenna and Will, and his face was grave.
  I laid my head on my father’s chest and stroked his pale face. If anyone was a spy, I knew it could never be my uncle. Never in a hundred years.

The next morning I woke, still cross with Theo. He looked pained during breakfast after I gave him a greeting glare. Almost immediately I felt a bit sorry, but I reasoned that there was nothing much I could do now.
At breakfast, Will seemed deep in thought.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He glanced at me, and then murmured, “You know there’s a spy somewhere in the inner circle here, don’t you, Ellie?”
I pursed my lips warily, thinking of my conversation with Theo. “Yes. Why?”
Will looked over his shoulder to where Theo was talking with Arnold. “Theo knew the battle plans ahead of time, didn’t he?”
I was confused. “Of course. He and Arnold went over them several times.”
Will buried his face in his plate of eggs as Theo passed our table. When he was gone, Will looked up again. “And he was part of the packing committee the night before, right? When we were packing the supplies?”
I nodded.
“And…the artillery?” Will added.
I frowned. “What are you getting at?”
Will laid his fork and knife on his empty plate. “I’m just going to keep an eye on that him.”
I slammed my plate on the table. “Everyone’s suspecting everyone else! None of us could be spies, for goodness sake! We know each other too well!”
Will was all seriousness. “You can’t trust everyone, Ellie.”
I pushed my chair away and stood up. “Well, you’re all crazy!” I was cross with both Theo and Will now. The nerve of them!
Will said nothing, but stood up and picked up his plate. “I’ll meet you in Arnold’s office. He called us all together this morning.”
I turned my back on him with a huff and left the dining hall.
Arnold’s quarters were small, lit only by the glow of the sun through the dusky window above his desk. Theo stood quietly near the door and closed it as Will and I entered.
Arnold motioned for me to sit. “Things could have gone better during the last battle…much better.
Theo nodded. “We’ll work harder. The coming battle will be more fierce than the last.”
I sucked in my breath. “Another one? So soon?”
“Yes, and as soon as possible. Enolio’s men will be able to prepare quickly, so time is of the essence.” Theo shouldered a large pack. I noticed that Will had one as well.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
Will spoke for the first time. “We’re going to scout around his fortresses and see if we can discover anything that could be helpful.”
Arnold saw the look in my eyes and smiled. “Can Elena join you?” he inquired.
“Yes," said Will.
"No," said Theo at the same exact moment.
I had to grin.
Theo was shaking his head with resolve. “She cannot come. It would be too great a risk.”
Will looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “She’s pretty small. Maybe she can help.”
I gave him a grateful look, forgetting that I was still supposed to be cross with him.
Theo gave a great frustrated sigh. “All right, William, but you’re going to watch over her.”
I was suddenly very angry and jumped to my feet.
“Since when do I need someone to watch over me? I can fight!” I exclaimed in a voice which was louder than I’d intended.
Theo scowled. “You’re the princess. That’s reason enough.”
I was furious. “So since I happen to be of royal blood, I lose any privileges I may have had before now?”
Theo gave Arnold an exasperated look and left the room with a huff.
Will followed him, giving me a beckoning nod.
Arnold put his finger to his lips and nodded at me for emphasis. I twisted my lips and followed Will outside.
One of the men who worked at the stables helped me to mount behind Will. Theo called, “This way,” and the horses turned down a dirt path. I gripped his shirt with both fists as we set off at a gallop.
I laid my tired head against Will’s back and watched the dust clouds roll behind us.
Several minutes later we turned off the path and into the woods. Branches snapped at my skirt and hair. At a much slower rate we picked our way through the brush until Theo signaled for us to stop and dismount.
We continued on foot until a stone building emerged from the trees.
Theo motioned for Will and mouthed “Stay here” to me. I wanted to protest, but I realized that it really wasn’t the best time to argue.
I crouched in the leaves, watching the two men scout around the building. Theo disappeared around the back of the fortress.
The leaves grew itchy around my ankles and I shifted to re-adjust my position. I gave a squeak as a spider crawled up my arm, and slapped it off with a shudder. When I looked up again, both young men had disappeared.
Tensely I waited in the grass for several minutes, keeping an eye out for bugs and ants. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to come along. My ankle was itching terribly.
There was a muffled exclamation from behind the building, and then a thud. I jumped to my feet. Was it one of the boys?
Will came stumbling through the woods toward me, his face white. His right arm was clenched around his upper left forearm, which was streaming blood.
I gasped. “Will!”
He grabbed his horse’s saddle horn and shuddered there a moment, leaning for support.
  “Warn—Theo,” he grunted through gritted teeth. “Archers on the roof.”
I dashed off into the woods, making a wide arc around the building, scouring the woods with my eyes for signs of Theo. Ah! There he was! I hissed at him frantically until he turned and saw me.  Beckoning him into the woods, I quickly related Will’s warning.
Theo’s countenance grew more serious than ever. “Get back to Will,” he instructed me. “I’ll come along in a minute. And try to stay out of sight.”
I ran back through the trees, going deeper into the brush this time. Stopping to catch my breath, I thought I saw a bunch of wild buttercups ahead. Upon investigation, they turned out to be only the sparkles of the sun sifting through the leaves of overhanging trees. I saw something to my left which looked like small white lilies and turned in that direction, but moments later they too melted into the glistening leaves. I felt a bit sheepish for wasting time and ran back the direction I had come.
A minute later, I realized with a shock that I had taken a wrong turn. All around me were trees which looked alike. I listened hard for signs of voices, but heard only birds twittering.
Breathing hard, I continued into the woods, my ears alert for sounds. After a while, I heard male voices and followed the sound eagerly.
My heart sank as I broke out into an open clearing. This was definitely not where I had left Will and the horses. The sounds continued, and with vague hopes of finding someone, I followed them.
An old stone building stood on the edge of the forest. Could it contain secret weapons for Enolio’s men? Maybe if I discovered something important, Theo would forgive me for getting lost.
No sooner had I opened the door than a shout from behind me made my heart freeze. I whirled around to see armed men running toward me through the brush, swords drawn.
There was nowhere to run. I backed up through the storehouse doorway—and then my foot slipped. I was falling down, down, down for what felt like a lifetime until I hit the bottom with a hard splash. With my leg twisting underneath me, I was in a shallow puddle at the bottom of a pit.
I stared upward in shock. Light shone from an opening far above me. Dark silhouettes appeared in the doorway.
“Ha, ha, ha!” they guffawed, the sounds echoing hollowly against the tall stone walls.
“She tried to help the prisoners escape,” one of them exclaimed, while the others choked with laughter, “and she fell down herself! Oh, it’s too much!” and he, too, burst into hysterical heaves of mirth.
I was utterly terrified. What prisoners? I thought.
“Well,” gasped the speaking guard, holding his sides, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to leave her there, now would it?” The other guards apparently thought it was hilarious, and the group tramped out, still laughing.
The door above closed with a bang. I was shrouded in pitch darkness. A musty smell rose to my nostrils, and I coughed. My skirt was being soaked by the puddle I had fallen into, so shakily, I attempted to stand.
Pain from my ankle made me gasp, teeter, and then collapse again onto the wet floor.
I was all alone. No one knew where I was. I was lost, I had fallen down some sort of a dungeon, and my ankle hurt terribly. First softly, and then in pitiful wails of sorrow I wept. My sobs echoed far, far away from me, as if I were in an extensive tunnel.
Clanking sounds echoed behind me. I whirled around. I couldn’t see anything.
A cold hand touched my shoulder. I screamed, dragging myself backward across the floor despite my bruised ankle. Then I backed up into a stone wall, and saw stars.
I put a hand to my aching head and peered into the blackness.
There were more faint clanking sounds, and then a voice whispered, “Who are you?”
My throat was choked, but I gasped out, “Who are you?”
“I,” answered the voice, “am Beatrice. Or at least I was. Now I am Nobody.”
I stroked my throbbing head. This did not make sense. “Why are you Nobody?” I asked, half stupidly.
“All of us are. And now you are too.”
My eyes widened. “What—what do you mean?”
“We are all forgotten prisoners, therefore we have no names.”
My brow furrowed. “You are prisoners? There is more than one of you?”
“Yes,” the voice answered. “There are many of us here. Hundreds. Some here, some in the surrounding tunnels.”
I was appalled. “How did you get here?”
“Let Salvor tell you.” There were clanking sounds again.
“Salvor?” I asked.
A tiny flame shone out from the floor. I squinted, and then saw a small pile of sticks flickering on the ground, an old woman kneeling beside it with a flint and stone. Dozens of wide-eyed, dirty men and women sat motionless around it. Each of them had a chain clamped around their ankle, with an iron ball behind.
A man with a dirty gray beard shuffled forward, chains clinking. I gazed at him questioningly.
A woman in a ragged dress said, “This is Salvor. He was the first to come here.” I recognized her voice as Beatrice’s.
“Many years ago,” Salvor croaked, “I was a farmer of goods. I brought fruit and meat to one of Enolio’s mansions every week. But one day I saw him whipping an innocent man. I tried to stop the fight, but I was overpowered and thrown down here. Over the years, he has imprisoned many, many people down in this pit. We are starving. All of us.”
There were murmurs from all around.
“Starving,” repeated Salvor. “For the light. For the sun. We want to feel the breeze in our faces and smell the flowers. We want to drink fresh water and eat fresh food, like the produce I used to grow in my orchards. But we are here in the darkness, we eat old cabbages and scraps they throw down, and drink the rainwater which collects on the floor.”
I felt in my skirt pocket and withdrew a rather squashed bun from breakfast. I knew it was a very small offering, but I handed it to Salvor. His eyes lit up.
“I thank you,” he said with a bow. But instead of eating it, he tore off a small piece and handed the rest of the bun to a ragged woman beside him. She repeated his actions, and the bun was passed around the circle, getting smaller and smaller as the prisoners partook of my little offering.
I watched in silence, and then asked, “Do any of you know anything about the doings in the castle Grattan?”
A young woman shuffled forward, her face grimy. “I used ter work there,” she said quietly.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“Sarah,” she answered. “I were Her Highness’s maid not long ago.”
With shock, I recalled her voice. She had been the maid in Queen Renice’s room when I had snuck in several months before.
“My mother,” I exclaimed. “Is she all right?”
By the fire’s flickering light, I could tell Sarah looked confused. “Yer mother?” she asked.
I realized that no one knew who I was. “I’m the Princess Elena,” I explained.
Murmurs of astonishment surrounded me.
“My mother had been poisoned. Do you know if she’s all right?”
Sarah shuffled backward slowly, shaking her head as tears streaked muddy lines down her cheeks.
“What is it? What do you know?” Chills crawled down my back.
Sarah broke down, putting her head in her hands. An old woman behind her patted her shoulder feebly.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” she wept. “I’m so sorry fer ye. I’m so sorry...”
I wanted to shake her. “Where is my mother?!”
She heaved with sobs and choked out, “She’s done died and gone ter heaven, sure...an’ that beast of a man done do it to her, too...” She covered her face with her hands.
My mouth dropped open. “She’s dead? My mother’s dead??”

My body tingled. Hurt and rage welled up within me, nearly stifling my breath in its fierceness. I knew one thing—Enolio was going to pay for this. “Help me up,” I commanded, and some of the prisoners helped me to stand shakily on my injured ankle.
“Haven’t you tried to get out of here?” I asked. One of the younger men spoke up. “We managed to remove one of the stones and we’ve tunneled up through the clay as best we could, but the hole’s a bit small, and we didn’t think anyone could make it all the way up on account of the leg chains dragging behind, and weighing us down.”
“Well, I’m not in chains,” I declared, “and I’m getting out. Please show me where.”
Silently the man turned to the wall and began to heave at a block of granite. Two other men helped him remove the huge stone. A dark hole had been tunneled upward through the clay; how far I couldn’t see.
I examined the steep incline as best I could by the flickering light. It seemed large enough to accommodate me, but I didn’t know how far up it went, nor how I would dig my way up when I came to the dead end above.
But I was going to get out one way or another. I looked at the men. “What did you use to tunnel it with?”
One man handed me a shovel-like piece of rock. I fingered it and sighed. It would have to do.
“You might get stuck,” pointed out one of the men.
I shrugged. “Then I’ll free myself and keep going.”
Hitching up my skirt, I climbed. I set my boots against the clay walls and began to make my way upward in a clumsy sort of fashion. I could barely see the dark orange-streaked walls. My boots slipped against the clay. Dirt dusted my face and made my eyes sting, not helping my vision at all. I was cramped in the muddy tunnel and quickly becoming claustrophobic. When I was several feet up, I looked down nervously. This route might not have been such a good idea after all.
I felt a clay encrusted roof above my head with one muddy hand. Trembling, I scraped against it with the chunk of rock, and realized that my feeble attempts were not making any progress. I dropped the rock and clung to the walls. My boots were beginning to slip dangerously.
“Um...” I called down, a hint of panic in my voice, “How do you get down from here?”
One of the men poked his head in and looked up at me. “Do ye need a hand?” he asked.
My voice was frantic. “I think I’m slipping!”
The man climbed up into the passage, dragging his leg chain behind him. He was definitely too far below to reach me.
He bent down and began speaking to the men outside. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Anxiously I tried to get a better footing on the soft clay and hoped he’d hurry up.
Then one of my arms slipped. I grabbed for the clay and dug my fingers into it.
“Hurry!” I yelled.
The men below me were talking excitedly and making motions I could not understand.
My other arm slipped. “Help!” I screamed, losing my grip. My heart flew into my throat as I fell into blackness.
I landed with a groan and a painful thud far below. Rough hands helped me to my feet. I was terribly disheveled and sore, covered with clay and dirt and my ankle throbbing even worse.
I hobbled to the entrance and stumbled down onto the stone floor. Once again I was helped up. Men and women chattered excitedly around me.
“Your friends have come to get you,” Beatrice explained quickly. “Now hurry!”
It was then that I saw the rope. Before I could reach it, however, there was a shout from above, and the rope jerked.
I grabbed it and looked up. Theo’s face peered down at me. “Grab it tight, Elena!” he shouted. “The guards are coming again!”
I turned back to Beatrice and the other watching prisoners. I had to hurry. “Thank you,” I said quickly, and then added, “I’ll get you out of here somehow. Don’t lose hope! Goodbye!”
I wrapped the rope around my clenched fists and sent up a quick prayer. The rope yanked upwards. I closed my eyes, clenching the rope with white knuckles.
My elbow scraped rock. Theo grabbed my collar and yanked me up painfully. I collapsed onto the grass, exhausted, my arms aching, but Theo pulled me to my feet again. “Hurry, Elena, they’re coming!” he exclaimed, a hint of frustration in his voice. I stumbled after him, pain shooting up my ankle. Shouts were coming from behind. I couldn’t go on.
Theo looked behind, gave a look of disgust, and ran back toward me. “Can’t you run?” he asked. I shook my head, blowing strands of dirty hair out of my face. “I twisted—my ankle,” I panted.
He lifted me up onto his back, and I grabbed his shirtfront with both hands as we took off into the forest again.
“Where’s—Will?” I asked, jolting on his back.
Theo panted, sweat drenching his shirt. “He’s—distracting the guards.”
I gasped. “He’s hurt! He can’t do that!”
Theo didn’t answer, but halted behind a log and swung me off his back. “Stay here,” he ordered. I nodded quickly, and he ran back toward the commotion.
I propped myself up against the log and peered through the trees, straining for signs of my friends.
Then they came dashing back through the trees, a young guard with them. A spear flew out from behind the three young men, striking the guard through the back of his chest. He collapsed with a loud groan.
Theo and Will turned and dragged the young man behind them into the denser woods, where they both fell to their stomachs in the underbrush.
Four armed guards pounded into the woods after them. They then stopped and scanned the forest around them. I shrank down behind the log.
One guard spoke just loud enough for me to hear them. “They’re gone, and I know you hit one of them. Let’s not waste time and get back. They won’t be back any time soon.”
Murmuring among themselves, the others followed him. Several minutes of silence passed before I felt safe enough to stumble unsteadily to my feet.
Theo and Will slowly emerged from their hiding place and stepped over to where the fallen guard lay motionless.
I joined them, staggering over my throbbing ankle. “Is he dead?” I whispered.
Will nodded silently. Tears rose to my eyes as I examined the pale face. He was young, way too young to die. “Who was he?” I faltered.
Theo spoke, his voice husky. “One of the good men on Enolio’s side. He tried to help us get away after the other guards saw us. He was the one who told us where you were.”
I felt the same horrible crushing guilt. If only I hadn’t come with them! Then I wouldn’t have gotten lost and fallen into the prison, and this young man would not be dead. I sank to my knees and sobbed.
“I’m so sorry, Theo,” I said through my tears. “I shouldn’t have wandered off…”
Flowers. I cursed myself inside, over and over. Flowers, flowers, FLOWERS!
Theo and Will stood without a word. Slowly, methodically, they buried the body of the young guard under a mound of wild violets. Then silently we returned to the horses and rode back to the fortress.
My heart was twisted with pain. That man’s hollow eyes would be imprinted in my memory forever. Me! I growled and punched my chest. For the sake of flowers! FLOWERS! I balled my hands into fists so fierce that my fingernails cut into my hand, and a tiny stream of blood stung and dripped onto my lap.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Arnold met us at the stables, his eyes dark and worried. “I’m glad you’re back,” he declared. “We can’t find Jenna anywhere.”
Theo’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure she didn’t just go for a walk?”
Arnold shook his head. “She was helping draw water for the kitchen. She never returned from the well, so I sent some men to look for her.” He opened his head to reveal a muddy hair ribbon. “We found this, as well as signs of a struggle in the mud. We were hoping that either of you could—”
“I’ll go.” Both young men spoke at the same time.
Arnold nodded at Will. “William, you had better go. Theodore, we need you to organize the men for the next battle.”
Theo’s lips tightened, but he led his horse into the stable without another word.
Arnold gave Will a searching look. “What happened to you?” he asked.
I looked at Will and gasped. “Oh, Will! I forgot about your arrow wound!”
Will glanced at his forearm which was wrapped in a bloodstained rag. “It’s all right,” he answered nonchalantly.
Arnold gave him a look. “Go see the nurses before you set out. That arm needs attention or you won’t be able to fight on Thursday.”
“Thursday?” I exclaimed. “So soon? That’s just three days!”
Arnold nodded. “The scroll came this morning.” He handed it to me. I put it in my pocket to read later.
Bells clanged.
Will looked up. “That’s mid-mealtime already. I’d better set out soon or I won’t be back by dark.”
Arnold nodded. He handed Will a parcel. “Here’s some food and a dagger. You have your sword?”
Will nodded and swung up into the saddle. “Bye, Ellie. Goodbye, Arnold.”
He kicked the horse’s sides, and they cantered down the path.
“Wait!” Arnold called, but Will was out of earshot.
“What is it?” I asked.
Arnold shook his head. “Young fool! That arm of his is going to get infected.”
I gave a wry grin. “He’ll be back by tonight.”
But he wasn’t.
 

It was the morning of the battle. Theo and Arnold had devised a new strategy, for which I was grateful, but there was so much on my mind I could hardly sleep.
For one, both of my adoptive siblings had gone missing. Jenna and Will had been gone for three days now, and all of us were worried sick about them. Once or twice Theo had taken a scouting party out to look for them, but he returned with no more news. Eventually, it was apparent that the tasks at hand were more pressing. The men worked feverishly to build up their strength for the coming battle.
Secondly, Arnold had been acting very oddly toward my Uncle Michael. Many of our meetings did not include him, and I was becoming more and more frustrated. It was angering to me that they would leave my adoptive father out of what he had helped to establish. In fact, I saw my uncle less and less often during the few days previous to the fight. Things were starting to get on my nerves.
I went outside one evening to watch the men train. Over and over they slashed and fought each other, Theo shouting instructions and Arnold watching with shoulders crossed on the sidelines.
I watched in disgust as one man kicked his opponent off his feet, and then toppled after him after being knocked down by the man’s falling scabbard.
Theo called me over.
“Think you can give these men a few tips?” he asked quietly.
I stared, wondering if he was serious. His expression didn’t waver.
So I did.
Fifteen minutes later I was fully convinced that this entire enterprise was going to be a failure. These men were farmers and carpenters, not soldiers! But they were all we had. And I, I had to stay in the medical tent. I was planning to dispute every argument that Theo and Arnold would give. The army needed me. They needed everyone they could get.
It was at night in bed that I thought of the prisoners. I sat up straight in bed, berating myself for having forgotten. Those men…those men and women could help us! They were on our side, that I was certain of. There was just the problem of getting to them.
Theo’s eyes lit up as I presented the idea to him. He was quiet for several minutes, then told me to go get Arnold.
Together we devised a plan. The women and I sewed uniforms for the men, and Theo and Will spent hours scouting out the clearing and watching the changing of the guards.
When all was ready, I begged to be allowed to come along, and once again Will vouched for me. I was allowed to stay in the cart and watch from a distance.
My heart was pounding as I watched Will and Theo make their way through the woods around the shed. Meanwhile, other men dressed as guards circled the clearing in the other direction.
There was a crash of metal and a yelp, and I knew the guards had been overwhelmed. I crept off the wagon and peered through the brush to see Will and Theo descend into the pit by rope. Hammer and chisel were dropped down to them, and they began releasing prisoners.
I had to smile at the ecstasy on the prisoners’ faces as one by one they were drawn up into the daylight. They blinked, rubbed their eyes and danced in circles, helping pull up their fellow prisoners from time to time. When it became dark I was sent home, but nearly everyone else stayed to continue releasing the prisoners. At the sixth hour Theo and Will knew there would be another changing of the guard, and I prayed for their swiftness and safety as Arnold escorted me home.
Every man and women was accounted for the next morning. There were not enough barracks, so the men alternated building crude structures for tents and training the new recruits. Many of them had bad eyesight from lack of light in the underground tunnels, but Arnold and Theo had many ideas on improving their accuracy. I knew it was a difficult business, trying to teach weakened men how to fight with vigor and in ranks, with less than a week left before the battle.
Finally I made up my mind. I sneaked a set of chain mail as they were being unloaded from a blacksmith’s wagon and stuffed it under my mattress. On the day of the battle…I would be ready.

“I’ll see you later,” I told Arnold, stepping into the medical tent. He nodded, gave me a keen glance, and then disappeared.
I wondered with nervousness if he was curious as to why I had given in to staying in the medical tent so easily. But I knew I had to go through with this.
I ran out the back entrance before anyone noticed, skirted behind some nearby trees and then tore off my outer dress. I wore a boy’s shirt and trousers underneath. My heart pounded. I yanked the mail out of my gunny sack and fitted it on as fast as I could. The army needed me. I knew they needed me. I stuffed my hair into my helmet and tucked it in around the sides. I must not be recognized as a girl.
I entered the ranks as casually as I could, clutching my sword’s hilt. The tension in the air was stifling. I started to feel uneasy, half wishing that I had stayed in the tent where Arnold had left me.
We were grouped into regiments and marched to our stations. I tried not to think about how dangerous my position was. If I was not recognized, I could be killed in an instant without anyone ever knowing. I shivered.
At the bugle’s sound, we began marching toward the middle of the battlefield, royal flags above flapping in the wind.
Then Enolio’s men came, roaring like a pack of lions and sweeping up towards us like a river of black and red. I looked around frantically for Theo. He was standing tall at the front of the ranks with an expressionless face. Then slowly he drew his sword…I held my breath.
The bugle trilled a peculiar scale of notes. I recognized the signal in an instant and ducked. Everyone around me fell to the ground at the exact same moment, and a volley of arrows flashed over our heads and into the enemy ranks.
At the same moment, the enemy soldiers threw up their shields and blocked off the flood of arrows completely.
I stood in shock. It didn’t make any sense. It was as if they knew what Theo and Arnold had planned and had actually prepared for it.
Then I felt a grasping chokehold around my neck and was dragged backwards. I couldn’t breathe. Pain stabbed into my throat. I wheezed and flailed my arms to no avail. I sobbed and tried to scream from the pain. Suddenly I was dropped.
Gasping for air and touching my raw throat, I turned to see a man dressed in our own uniform. He grabbed my arm in a painful grip and yanked me up. What? This was no soldier of ours! A spy?
“HELP!” I screamed, but a rough glove clamped over my mouth and choked my cry into a squeak.
The man yanked me along through the thick trees without a look behind him. I couldn’t speak. I stumbled, fell, was dragged up again. Thorns ripped a piece of skin off my right knuckle.
Through a stream and up a rise, and then we broke out into a clearing. I stumbled once more and was yanked up again to see the building where I had worked so many months before. It was the Mansion Kharice.
In wordless horror I allowed myself to be led roughly inside and into a room with dark red velvet floors—the room where I had seen my father killed. Dark brown stains marked the floor still, and I was thrown onto my knees in the middle of the room.
A gloved hand tore my helmet away, and my blond hair fell in waves down my back. My cheeks tingled with heat, and I bit my lip till it bled. My stupidity! My mindless stupidity! I hated myself.
“I thought so,” growled a satisfied voice. I looked up through tear-filled eyes to behold the man who had been in my darkest nightmares.
He jerked my chin up to look in his hate-filled eyes. “Aha, if it isn’t Elena Dremont, heir to the crown.”
Rage boiled inside me. I wished I could slap him. Right across the face, and give him a bloody lip and nose.
“It’s really a pity,” sighed Enolio gravely as he released my chin and paced around me, “that you have gone so far for nothing. Though I truly pity no one,” he added with a smile.
I pursed my lips. Stay strong, I told myself. Don’t let him deceive you. Don’t give in to him. Don’t do anything.
“Well, well, well, we had better get to the point,” Enolio said coldly, seeing that I was not going to respond. “Your parents are dead and you are the lawful queen of Aria,” he surmised, “and of course…” his voice darkened, “you will need a king.”
Horror swept over me as I realized what he was implying. My stomach boiled.
Enolio laughed. “Of course you will need some convincing,” he chuckled, and then evil flashed in his eyes. “Bring him in,” he barked.
Three armored men entered through a curtain, dragging a body between them.
I gasped and fell onto my hands and knees as my stomach tightened. “Will?”
Will lay prostate on the bloodstained stone floor. A dark cut carved the side of his face, and blood dripped from his fingertips. He gave a low groan.
I burst into tears afresh.
Enolio sniffed as if I was something distasteful. “Simple girl,” he said with an air of indifference, “It is all a part of the plan—my plan—which will soon be your plan.”
I glared at him. “Never!” But the sight of Will’s pallid face made my resolve waver. Don’t give in…aaaggh, but what NOW?
Enolio brushed it off. “Never mind— I thought it would take more than that. Look here, Elena.” He handed me a spyglass. “Look out over that balcony and you will see the battle.”
I didn’t want to follow his wishes. But I did desperately want to see how the battle was faring, so I stepped over to the balcony and raised it to my eye.
The sight was so horrible that I fought the impulse to gag. Our ranks were cut down mercilessly. Blood was all over the field. I felt sick to my stomach all over again. Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed with some effort.
Then I saw Theo. He was staggering to the back of the lines, covered with blood. Was it enemy blood or his own? Then he staggered and fell.
  “I am sure you see your folly now,” said Enolio. His voice was so close that I dropped the spyglass. He was standing at my elbow, staring out across the battlefield.
“You see, Elena,” Enolio smiled. “If you accept my offer of marriage, we can do this peaceably. I will call down from this balcony to my soldiers and they will stop the fight. Every word of mine is obeyed.” His eyes bore holes in me.
“However,” he added, looking away, “If you do not accept I will kill this boy, and his sister—”
I gasped.
“—who is in my dungeon at this very moment, along with many more who were, shall we say, DISLOYAL to me.” He stared at me again. “It doesn’t look like you have much of a choice now, do you?”
I swallowed hard.
Enolio sighed. “You don’t have to make this difficult. You can have your freedom as well as your precious little friends.”
I snarled. “Being married to you would be the blackest slavery possible.”
“But which is more important? You…or your friends?”
Silence. Don’t give in…Ohhhh….
“You’d be either enslaving your friends or yourself. Come now. What does your Bible say about giving yourself for others?”
My voice trembled. “That Book’s name is too holy for your seething lips to form.” Well, that was strange. Just like the heroes in books. Where did that come from?
“Well, let it be then. I care not. I care for money. Yes, and power.” He smiled.Then he turned and waved a hand at the curtain again. “Perhaps,” he said, turning back to me, “You would like to meet one of my best spies. Unless,” he added with an evil smile, “you’ve already met.”
“Come here!” he called to the curtain.
“No!” came a muffled voice from behind.
“You will come now or you will be dragged in with a spear’s head protruding from your chest!” shouted Enolio.
A shadowed figure shuffled out from behind the curtain with his head bent low.
“Show your face,” commanded the lord. Slowly, the man uncovered his face and looked at me.
It was as if a thunderbolt forced me to my knees. “No! Dear God, no! It can’t be!”
“Oh yes, it is,” Enolio snarled.
My uncle buried his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Elena,” he sobbed. “I'm so sorry…”
I was in a cloak of heart-wrenching misery. The only father I had ever known had betrayed me? He had betrayed me?
Enolio seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. “Now,” he asked me, and I heard him through a daze of sorrow and anguish, “I am sure there are no more difficulties that we will have to endure. Yes, or no, Elena. Will you or will you not?”
A lump rose in my throat. “Yes,” I whispered faintly.

I bit my lip till it hurt. I was in front of a tall silver-edged mirror, wearing a long silk dress with filaments of tiny white and blue flowers all over it. It was a work of art. I know I would have loved it under any other circumstances, if I wasn’t about to say vows which would wed myself to my greatest nightmare. I felt like crying as I looked at myself, but I held back my tears. Enolio would probably be angry if I spoiled my looks before his wedding. Then, I decided that I really didn’t care. Red eyes wouldn’t matter at this ceremony. I doubt anyone whom I knew and loved would be there to see me, anyway—no one but Enolio’s highly respected, grossly wealthy scoundrels whom he called friends. I clenched my fists in the silky wafts of my dress. There was nothing I could do about it…nothing at all. At the moment, I was simply grateful that my giggling bridesmaids left me alone for a few minutes before the ceremony. Even now I could hear organ music, and a lump clenched in my stomach.
A darkly dressed man—my escort—poked his head through the door without knocking.
“Coming, m’lady?” he asked.
No privacy, I thought, quickly wiping my tears as well as I could. Not here—not anywhere.
“Yes,” I answered coldly, and stepped out. The man took my arm and led me down the hall into the chapel sanctuary, which was flooded with loudly talking people. They quieted down as we entered. I wished that they wouldn’t. Having hundreds of eyes staring at me was almost more than I could bear.
Through my veil I could see Enolio, dressed in his gold-trimmed finest, a cordial smile on his face. I stood as far away from him as would be proper and tried not to look at him.
The richly dressed minister stood and began to preach an elaborate and boring lecture on marriage. I stared into space as he droned on and on until he stood in front of Enolio and me.
Enolio recited his vows without expression. I knew—I just knew he was lying when he promised to love and cherish me. It infuriated me to see him acting so polite and…and…human, when I knew the real intentions that he had in forcing me into this marriage.
When his cold fingers touched mine, I shuddered, and his hand clamped mine more firmly as he slipped the wedding ring onto my finger. I was half panting with fright.
When we were pronounced man and wife, a terrible sense of dread added to the fear in my heart. What might life be like with a man like him? I was sure it wouldn't be long before I found out.
“Thank you, thank you,” said Enolio, bowing as he escorted me rather roughly down the aisle. I felt like I was about to faint.
The moment the church doors closed behind us, Enolio grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. “You,” he spat into my terrified face, “are of no use to me any longer.” He then released me. I fell down onto the muddy gravel and burst into tears. He wrenched me to my feet and pushed me into a waiting open carriage.
He himself climbed into the driver’s seat and urged the horses into a canter.
I sobbed with terror in the back of the carriage, my dress soaked with cold mud and my tears. I was only sixteen! Why did this have to happen to me? I was just a little girl… a little girl!
It had been less than a year since I had learned of my heritage…and I was already married to someone who acted as if he were about to kill me!
“Jenna,” I sobbed. “Will…” For all I knew, they and the rest of the people I loved could be dead. Enolio, though he had promised to keep them alive, was not the sort of person you could trust to keep his word. Theo and Arnold and Jenna and Will…they could all be dead, and I alone in the world without any kin whatsoever.
And yet...God was there…wasn’t He? It surely didn’t seem it. It did not seem right for me to suffer all this. I remembered snippets of faraway phrases from my childhood…”God sees the big picture.” “God sees the big picture..”
So I sat in the back of the jostling carriage until the horses reared, pawed the ground, and then stamped to a halt.
Guards yanked open the door and dragged me out. I didn’t resist. There was no reason to do so.
Enolio watched from the driver’s seat in the carriage as I was pushed across a grassy courtyard into a small clearing covered with gravestones. I bit my lip to keep from crying aloud. This was a nightmare.
There was a long open grave in the corner of the lot. Before I realized why it was there, hands grabbed my dress and threw me screaming down into it.
I was lying in an empty coffin.
Enolio’s face appeared above me. “Latch it tight,” he said, and then his face disappeared.
I struggled to stand, but hands pushed me down with force. The lid of the coffin slammed shut over me. I screamed again and tore at the roof of my prison.
Then I heard a sickening sound—muffled, soft thumps above my head—the sound of dirt being shoveled over the lid of my coffin. I screamed all the more. The thought of being buried alive was more than I could stand. Finally my throat grew hoarse, and there was no more strength for screaming or even weeping. I vaguely recognized my need to preserve my air and fell into a fitful sleep.
When I awoke, at first I did not remember anything. Then I struggled to sit up as well as I could in my cramped prison and felt along in the dark see if there was anything, anything there at all. Empty.
I pushed with all my might against the lid of the coffin and the heavy mass of dirt above, but to no avail. Not even a budge. I even tried my teeth against the sides of the coffin, but the wood had been glazed with varnish that was too hard to even chip.
I sat in the darkness, hopeless. Perhaps this was the best way to die after all. Quietly lying alone six feet below the ground, where no one could do anything to me anymore. In fact, I thought with a little bitter laugh, I had already been buried.
Fear began to seep in again. I knew I was not ready to die. I had confessed my sins to the Lord and made Him the Lord of my life…I thought. Suddenly I knew that I had not been letting Him make any of my latest decisions. Was there still any way for me to be forgiven? The sin that came to my mind first and foremost was the bitterness I had in my heart toward Enolio. The first thought of forgiving him seemed so foreign and grisly that I almost immediately began to put that out of my mind.
And yet…another phrase came to mind. “If you do not forgive an offender, you are as wrong as he.”
A sinking feeling filled my heart. I could not be as wrong as he.
“He that is angry with his brother has murdered him.”
“He’s not my brother!” I said aloud, and I began to cry. He’s my husband, I thought with horror.
Well, I am going to get this over with. I folded my hands in the darkness.
“Lord,” I began, and the tears began to well again, “I know…I haven’t talked to You lately…it’s been just so hard…” I was stricken that that was what He was there for…my hardest times. “I am bringing to you…Enolio. You know everything he’s been doing…to me, and to everyone else…but I do not want bitterness in my heart because of him. Please free me from this, and help me to die a forgiven girl, with a truly free heart, if not body…”
Strangely, I heard a faint sound from beneath me. Scraping, almost. As I lay in the coffin it got louder, and then, with a horrible screeching sound which made me jolt and cover my ears with the pain, something grated along the bottom of my coffin.
“Wh-what is that...” I murmured. And then louder, “Who are you?”
“Elena!” came a muffled voice, and I burst into joyful tears at the sound of it. “We’ve come to get you out! Hold still!”
The coffin jolted a little, and then a little more, and I could sense that it was leaning too far to the right. I panicked.
“Ahh! It’s tipping!” I shrieked.
I could hear the grunts of—whoever it was—below me, and more ear-splitting screeches. The coffin tipped lower, and then rolled slowly…agonizingly slowly…
And then dropped.
I tried to scream, but the cry caught in my throat. There was a horrible sensation of falling, falling, falling, and then there was a tremendous splash. My coffin was in some body of water.
“Hold on, Elena!” I heard again, even more muffled and far away. The coffin began to sink, and I realized that it was not waterproof. Water began to seep in around the cracks until I was lying in a slowly growing pool of water.
“Get me out of here!” I cried.
The coffin was moving. I could tell it was, and at a great speed too. Was I in some sort of rushing channel?
The coffin bumped and jolted against objects as it moved, harder and harder. I scrabbled furiously at the sides of the coffin in pitiful futility.
The coffin tipped and fell again, so, so far— I knew I was sobbing and screaming at the same time. There was a smash against the rocks; a gap appeared in the side of the coffin and my hand was bleeding. There was another crash! and the coffin lurched downwards again. There was a final ear-splitting CRACK! and I knew no more.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
When I awoke, I first saw a group of dirty-faced men standing over me. I coughed and struggled to sit up.
One of the men helped me to sit up, and then I saw his face. Through the dirt and grime, I could see that he was considerably thinner, but I still recognized him.
“Theo…” I whispered.
His face was tense. “Elena, I know you’re not feeling well, but we desperately need your help. Do you think you can make it to the Castle Grattan alone?”
My head spun. “M-maybe…” I answered feebly. “What—how did you get me out?”
Theo’s face twisted into a small wry grin. “A few of us escaped during the fight. We spied on what was happening and saw you get—um, trapped. That section of the graveyard is just over a rushing underground river. So we…er, climbed down the cliff and dug you out of the side of the mountain.”
“You what?” I exclaimed. My strength was coming back. “How did you do that?”
Theo shrugged. “We have our ways. Anyway, your coffin sort of slipped and fell into the river. We did pull you out, though,” he added quickly.
I gave him a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll try to do my best at whatever you want me to do.”
“Good. You’re a brave girl.” Theo pulled me to my feet, and the dizziness that returned made me reconsider whether I actually could do anything at the moment.
“Enolio’s going to execute Arnold and Will and most of our group at a big ceremony in…um, thirty minutes,” Theo explained.
I gasped. “Thirty what? There’s no way I could make it!” Then I paused and gave him an indignant look. “For goodness sakes, why won’t you go?”
Theo shook his head. “I would, but it’s a bit too dangerous for me to be out in the open right now. We will be trying to sneak into the crowd. There’s more of us than you might think.” He waved a hand at the other men.
“And you don’t think it’ll be dangerous for ME?” I exclaimed.
Theo pursed his lips. “Before all this happened, Elena, I was always worried that you might be caught and spoil everything. But now I need to ask you to take the risk anyway. It’s about more than just you now, Ellie. It’s about more than just the crown. It’s the whole kingdom now. We’re in trouble, and we need your help. You’re the queen, Elena. You could be our only hope.”
An ache settled in my stomach. “Which way?” I murmured. Theo gave me a painful slap on the back with a grin and pointed down a dirt road.
“All right then,” I sighed, and broke into a run. At the end of the road I stopped and turned back. “So what exactly do you want me to do?” I called.
Theo waved his hands anxiously. “Just distract him until we get there! Go, go!”
All right, I said to myself, turning back toward the road. Distract him. I can do that…probably.
I was glad to see that the Castle Grattan was not very far away. I was not so glad to see that a large crowd of people had gathered in the courtyard.
My dress was filthy, soaked and covered with mud, and I kept tripping on it. My carefully braided hair had slumped down my back and was most likely a frazzled mess. I knew I didn’t look anything like a princess—oh wait, now I was a queen—but maybe…just maybe…if Enolio was superstitious, I might be able to pull my plan off.
I circled around the courtyard as quickly as I could, making sure that no one saw me. If anyone noticed me, it would seriously ruin my plan.
I saw the guards at the gates and prayed fervently that this would work.
“He-e-elp!” I wailed, hoping that my cry wasn't loud enough to attract too much attention. I threw myself at one of the guards, who stepped backwards in shock and let me by.
I took in the situation at a glance. A long line of prisoners were chained neck-to-neck. Enolio was standing in front of the line, sword in hand—and dear Arnold knelt blindfolded at his feet.
“Stop!” I shrieked, jumping at Enolio. If they had not been standing on marble steps I knew that this would have ended in disaster, but I managed to knock Enolio off balance, and he fell with a shout down the long flight of stairs.
I ripped the blindfold off Arnold’s head. He looked up at me in shock, and then stumbled to his feet.
Hurry up, Theo! My mind screamed. Enolio must have been injured, for he groaned and cursed as shocked members of the audience helped him to his feet.
The guards came at me, and I ducked.
“His legs, Elena!” called Arnold, and I dove at one of the guards’ feet. I grunted and pushed with all my might. It must have been adrenaline. I knocked the man over before he could slash me in the back. Thankfully the courtyard was made of marble, for the young man struck his head against it with a crack.
I felt a twinge of remorse, but I reminded myself that this was war, and casualties were a part of war.
This concept became strikingly real to me—for as I screamed and fell to the ground, my right arm was sliced to the bone by an enemy sword. I wanted to tear the pain out of me and cast it away, with every fiber in my being. I could barely hear my screams as I began to faint.
Arnold dragged me to my feet and wrapped his torn shirt around my arm. Spots danced before my eyes, white and dark blue and soft red. Through misty eyes I saw Theo leap into the fray, sword slashing.
Thank God, I thought, almost dreamily, thank God you’re here…
“Halt in the name of the King!” shouted Enolio. Though the fight did not stop immediately, it lessened for a moment as all eyes turned to the man.
Enolio stood on a broken marble pillar, holding a document and a chain with a single key on it over his head. “A truce!” he cried.
“A truce! A truce!” shouted out men and women from the crowd. They were eager to end the fighting.
“Bring me the queen,” Enolio declared.
Several men pushed me forward—I couldn’t tell whether they were friends or enemies.
“None of us want to continue this blood battle. More men and women will die on both sides. So,” said Enolio, smiling, “I offer a truce. Elena may have a choice between these items: This document proclaiming her my wife—or this key to the prisoners. In return…she will call off her men.”