Towards the end of her eighth day of freedom, Rowena found herself still on the road, but much safer for it. She had made it quite far from where Sylva had camped and as best as she could judge, she wasn’t being pursued.
Still, Rowena knew that a ten year old travelling alone was unusual and she had certain features that made it difficult to blend in. Her knee-length grey dress and daub green cloak were nondescript enough. Her boots were a bit too small and she suspected she had a hole in the sole, but she guessed she was about the same size as other children her age.
The problems began with her one blue eye. She’d thought about covering her sightless eye with an eyepatch, but that would be obvious and in her mind, she didn’t think people would easily remember her as long as she didn’t stare. Similarly, like other humans of Erisdale, she had blonde hair, though, rather than the gold or straw-blonde of most, hers was strawberry. Thankfully, the shade was distinct enough to be recognizable only upon close examination of her roots
Her facial features were the larger issue. Many a time as she waited for commands from Sylva, Rowena had caught someone’s attention by sheer accident. Even at such a young age, her nose had developed into one with a wide base and slight turn up, features seen as rather elegant and noble. Her mouth was small, but emphasised by a sturdy chin and her curly hair framed aptly-spaced almond eyes.
In other words, she was slightly too pretty to just blend in.
Thankfully, Westfall Pass, the winding, windy road from forested Leipmont to Kwent was incredibly busy. All Rowena had to do was trot Larch amidst the carts from merchants and caravans, individual foot travellers and wagons of families. It was a surprisingly easy ride too as the road was paved with fitted flat stones. Every so often, spaced at just about a day’s ride, a small stone and wood guard tower could be found beside a large camp ground with a well. Each one of them bore a red shield with a black tower topped with a crown circling a burning heart, the coat of arms of the current monarchs of Erisdale, King Martin the Wise and Queen Ginger Flameheart
Rowena knew very little and at the same time, quite a bit about The Royal Family. She did know that they were beloved and that Sylva hated them. She could hear from the many travellers beside her that they had been the ones to pay for the improvement of the road and had the guard towers and campgrounds by the road manned and maintained by the locals.
Everywhere Rowena had travelled, she’d heard the tales of the king and queen, how they were heroes of the Fourth Great War, and how slavery was outlawed.
Sylva had turned up her nose whenever someone had mentioned that and now that Rowena thought about it, that was probably when she’d realised that if she could break her contract, there would be no way for her master to recover her.
The sun was vanishing over the high peaks that bracketed Westfall Pass when Rowena trotted Larch towards the entrance of the next guarded campground. Many travellers had already settled in and picked spots. Rowena was sure she could squeeze in her own place.
What she didn’t expect were two guards by the tower to walk up to her.
The woman that approached bore a musket on her shoulder. Raising a hand, she stopped Larch in her tracks before Rowena could pull the reins.
“Halt. Just a routine inspection. What’s your business on the road, young lady?” asked the guard.
Rowena smiled. Smiles worked wonders to disarm and deter, but when she opened her mouth, she only made a warble. The girl coughed into her hand and turned her head so her single eye could see the guard better. “Sorry. I’m just heading to Athelda-Aoun.”
“Athelda-Aoun? That’s a long way from here. What for?”
Blending into the background, not being talked to, and just keeping an eye on her surroundings were things that Rowena excelled at doing. It was why when she heard the sound of footsteps, she immediately turned and could see that the guard’s other companion had just stepped in on the other side of her pony to pat its head with a very large green hand.
Green hand? Rowena blinked. The guard was not human. He was Alavari, specifically an orc. They’d fought against Erisdale in the Great War, but they’d been at peace now for ten years and some had even moved to the formerly human-only kingdom.
Besides, despite his size and muscular frame, the orc had a brilliantly wide smile. It was friendly and genuine.
The opposite of hers.
“I…” Rowena bit her lip. “Sorry, I’m not… not used to talking to people.”
“You keep to yourself eh?” the human woman asked. She shrugged. “You don’t have to worry, kid. The war left many with their own stories. We just want to make sure you can make it to where you want to go.”
Rowena nodded. Her mind blank, her lips found their own words to speak.
“I want to learn magic. I have a little gift and I want to learn at the School for Magic and Mundane.”
Instantly, the girl wondered if she said the ring thing. It was kind of a crazy thing to say. Everybody knew about the School for the Magic and Mundane. The institution, located in the legendary city of Athelda-Aoun, was well known as a school that offered free tuition for orphans. Yet despite their continuously growing attendance, they were at the forefront of magic and technology development on the continent.
The orc guard chuckled. “Oh, an excellent choice. I have a niece who goes there. Fantastic place. Said she got to meet a princess Alavaria.”
“Oh, she must mean the Violet Princess, the student of Frances Stormcaller. You never told me that Rordan,” said the woman.
“Never came up, Cate,” said Rordan. He gave Larch a final pat. “In any case, kid, take care. Watch your step and keep your little pony here at a nice trot. Kwent’s pretty safe and there are more guideposts on the other side of the river.”
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Her shoulders relaxing, Rowena smiled, this time feeling it come to her face a little more easily. “Thank you very much.”
Cat chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, and don’t take too long to wash up. We have a bard who stopped by coming from Kwent. He’s going to put on a show.”
Curiosity won out over caution and Rowena nodded. “Got it. I’ll be there,
***
The bard was in travelling clothes and so didn’t have the well-cut and more colourful dress than the ones Rowena had seen in the cities she’d travelled together with Sylva. Although news leaflets and newspapers were becoming increasingly more common across Erisdale’s increasingly more well-read cities, there were still plenty of places for a bard to ply their trade in the countryside. Plus, aside from conveying local news, they put on a good show.
This bard was a woman with a polished lute and short golden hair that darkened to brown near the tips. Rowena dropped a copper in her hat and through the small crowd that had gathered.
“Welcome, welcome all. Sit tight and listen closely. For I, Sabina Dilly will tell you stories of the goings on in the world. And then, spin you a classic tale.”
Rowena found her place by the protective fence that surrounded the camp ground, a little aways from the bard and the onlookers. She mainly had a view of the bard’s back, but that suited her just fine. Her single eye could take in the entire scene from where she sat, whilst her blind side was protected.
Gently plucking at her lute, Sabina launched into her show. In a sing-song voice, whose tone twirled like an artful songbird, she delivered news from the capital. Of how King Martin had ordered the lowering of taxes for the commonfolk for a year, and how his wife Queen Ginger had beat a Lapanterian noble in a duel. She told of the invention of a new “steam engine” that could power water pumps and mills, and of the widespread dryness that seemed to afflict much of Erisdale’s south coast. She spoke of a fire in Leipmont town—
Rowena fingers grabbed the fence. Ice ran through her veins.
“The fire had broken out at a storage area for fine woods. It burned and danced across the shed and leapt from rooftop to rooftop. It would have consumed the sleeping town and its occupants had someone not rang the town alarm bell. As it was, several families were left homeless, though, by some miracle nobody was killed.”
Glad she was still shrouded by her cloak and the darkness, Rowena sighed and wiped her eyes. “I pulled it in time. Thank goodness.”
“Mages from the White Order are investigating. Whispers abound and many do not believe the fire was mundane, but magical. The taverns are abuzz with sightings of a young girl fleeing the scene. Some say they saw her ring the alarm bell, but nobody has been able to get a good look at her. Thankfully, there is some hope. The great Archmage Edana Firehand of the White Order is investigating.”
Rowena swallowed as Sabina’s news faded into the background, drowned out by the stream of air hissing between her gritted front teeth. Clammy hands held each other, for there was no one else she had to confide in.
When the pounding in her heart had stilled, Sabina had finished the news. Almost unable to breathe, Rowena scanned the crowd. Nobody was looking for her. They didn’t know she set the fire. It was under Sylva’s orders, and she did pull the alarm, but Rowena wasn’t sure people would be merciful.
“And now, for our tale of the night. I was thinking of indulging you all with the legendary first adventure of the Sapphirewing and her beloved, the Violet Princess. But then I thought of an old classic, the Tale of the Lost Princess.”
The Lost Princess? The confusion momentarily punctured the bubbling anxiety in her chest. She’d heard of the story in bits and pieces, but she’d never listened to the whole story.
Sabina, now strumming her lute in earnest, lifted her head and hummed. Her voice rising with the embers of the campfire, the dark mountain and the night sky silhouetted behind her.
“Ten years ago after the Fourth Great War, our beloved King Martin and Queen Ginger came to the throne. He, the hero of Erisdale, a knight from the long and storied blood of Conthwaite. She, a commoner, a former convict and soldier. Many a life did they save, many a man and woman did they raise up. With their famous companions, there was no foe they could vanquish, no enemy they could defeat until their were none and the Demon King, usurper, and great enemy of Erisdale, King Thorgoth, was dead.
“With Erisdale at peace, Martin and Ginger were wed and soon the queen was with child. In high summer she was born, Princess Forowena, Erisadale’s heir, a child with eyes of sky blue and hair of the dawn. Hale and hearty, she slumbered in her crib, with her parents in her room.
Sabina’s tone dropped, her smile gone. The lute’s strumming slowed. “Yet the night was not quiet. A former Red Order mage, a traitor to the kingdom, snuck into their rooms. He took the child and before the rising king could stop him, he fled with the babe.”
“The wicked mage James had companions. Bridgette and Benjamin, both former mages. They fled with the babe, planning to ransom her for a mighty fortune. They wanted to bankrupt the kingdom, to plunder from the coffers of an already war-exhausted Erisdale.”
“Yet, the King and Queen would never put the kingdom over their own daughter, and so they called upon their companions to find their daughter and end the
“From the gates of Athelda-Aoun, Archmage Frances the Stormcaller, Bane of King Thorgoth rode forth from the north, a force of nature crashing down on the pursuers. Before the traitors could escape into Alavaria, she and her two infamous students caught them at the Twin Towns of Kwent and fought a duel that froze the river in its entirety! Yet, the trio manage to slip away, with the Stormcaller in pursuit.”
Sabina’s fingers danced over the lute, words falling from her lips, sounding so sharp the words seemed to lash at her mouth.
“On the roads near the Temple of the Otherworlder, James, Bridgette and Benjamin were cut off by another of the king and queen’s mages, Leila the Crimson Countess. The three mages attempted to ambush Leila, but the Crimson Countess obliterated their puny ambush and sent them fleeing.”
“The Stormcaller and the Crimson Countess pursued the villains to the western city of Tharos where they finally cornered the mages. They had hidden in a house in the city, hoping to use the bodies of their fellow citizens to shield themselves from consequence. That did not stop the Stormcaller and the Crimson Countess from engaging them with both fire and lightning. Leila smote James with a bolt of magic that threw him out of a window. Frances smote Bridgette with a lightning bolt and together the pair captured Benjamin. Yet, when the dust settled, and the fires were out, they could not find the princess.”
The bard paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was far quieter, almost fragile. The twang of her lute underscoring her words.
“James had placed the princess under a magical contract and sold her and the contract into the banned slave markets only spoken of in alleyways. Now that he was dead, there was no way to find Princess Forowena. The princess was lost, but not forgotten. Even after ten long years, Erisdale searches for their lost princess. Until we find her, she will however, remain tragically lost, our Lost Princess.”
Sabina strummed her final chord as her audience capped. Rising to her feet, she gave a bow as the clapping continued and rose in volume.
Rowena didn’t clap. She did want to, but clapping might draw attention, so she clasped her hands tightly together as she walked for her spot in the campground.
As she slid into her bedroll, Rowena had a brief thought that kept her eyes open and on the stars above.
Aside from seeing future possibilities, she had been able to see things in the past. She could try to focus on the Lost Princess and see what happened to her.
She banished that fanciful thought a moment later with a shake of her head. She had no ability to verify if that’s what happened to the princess or prove it. Mages in Durannon were often skilled at certain spells, but seeing the future and past was unheard of. That and Rowena didn’t know if what she saw was but a fiction or real.
After all, she couldn’t see her own past. She’d tried many times but she couldn’t. The only thing that she knew about herself was her name, Rowena, because that had been on the contract.
Not for the first time, Rowena closed her eyes and tried to sleep, her mind abuzz with thoughts that whined plaintively.