CHAPTER FOUR—PRINCESS, AND BRAVE ADVENTURER

Grunting somewhat as he stepped up a mild incline, Jeanbleau realized he was breathing more heavily now, and with his exertions and the constant warm sun, he was actually beginning to sweat.

Perhaps he did not need that second under cloak after all?

He turned and glanced back the way he had come, down the foothills. In the distance Kita-ku Shinai was enshrouded with mist. Not the mist of a dreary late morning, but rather the mist of a hot sping day that came up from the river—or perhaps the rice fields surrounding the city.

From here, the urban center looked like a dream, half shrouded in a majestic fog Because of the yellow-orange glow.

From his pack he took out a hard piece of bread and gnawed on it as he glanced about the foothills. They continued on, climbing more steeply. It wouldn’t be long before he got past them and onto Mount Odan where Andahl lived.

What had kept other adventurers from going after the princess, anyway? Luarr had sniggered about her talking his ear off, and the Kita-ku Shinai gate guards had reacted much the same way.

With a sigh he continued glancing about, simply enjoying the warm rays of the sun and the birds overhead. Had he not been on a quest to save the Pumpkin Princess, he might have simply found a rock to perch upon and slowly eat his bread and meat.

Thirty Kita-ku Shinai Gold Marks.

That was the price of which he would be afforded after saving her, minus the sixty percent toward his debt to Ribeauvillé and by extension, Machezelle.

Jeanbleau had a thought.

Thirty gold marks was no small amount of coin. Should he successfully rescue the princess, this adventuring gig might be quite a lucrative trade after all—especially after paying off hid debt.

He could make a business of it—start his own guild.

No, no.

He was getting ahead of himself. Surely he would start his own adventuring party first, become more acquainted with these lands, perhaps build a name for himself.

Grinning, he nodded to himself and swallowed his last bite of the bread and meat and continued on his journey. Before long, if he continued to sweat like this, he would need to take off his under cloak and put it beside his bedroll atop his pack.

But as he glanced up the hills and further on to Mount Odan, he realized, with that snow and those darker clouds, he would surely begin to cool too fast.

“Onward!” he called to no one. “For the Princess of Pumpkins!”

I better not let her hear me say such a thing aloud.

And he laughed.

As the day wore on, a low hanging cloud began to descent upon Mount Odan. Or was it that Jeanbbleau had gotten quite high from his climb?

He didn’t know, but when he turned to see if he could still make out Kita-ku Shinai, no trace of the city was visible any longer. Just a blanket of fog and low-hanging clouds. What was more, his skin felt clammy from the moisture up here despite the worsening cold.

Reaching into his bag, he took out a plug of his dried meat, chewed off a liberal bite and looked at his map. According to where the Kita-kua Shinai guard had marked, he was close.

Very close.

He rolled the map back up and put it into his bag, noting the late hour upon him as well as the thin patches of snow and ice.

Needing to stay alert, Jeanbleau ate more meat and drank an ample amount of water. As he got closer to Andahl’s hideout, the likelihood of meeting him on the mountain increased.

Jeanbleau did not want to be surprised suddenly while he wasn’t watching, while he was districted when he didn’t otherwise have to be. Keeping his left and on his sword hilt jutting from its scabbard, he stepped over the craggy rocks and pressed on, the mountain ahead hardly visible to him now due to the forming mist.

The night was beginning to make things hard to see by, and other than the subtle gusts of wind, there were no other sounds up here—save for Jeanbelau’s footsteps through the thin layer of crunchy snow.

He came upon a rocky bluff that jutted out from the mountainside. When he came under it, the sounds of melting ice could be heard. Glancing about, he noted that the area was sheltered and dry, and decided that this spot could make for an emergency camp if he failed to rescue the princess.

Otherwise Jeanbleau would be sleeping huddled in his cloaks as he lay against a rock—and without a fire. The night would be hard and straining on his body. It would be better to make camp here, where he had shelter, both from the wind, but also from possibly being seen by his quarry

But he didn’t stop here for long.

Boots crunching over the snow, when he rounded the bend, his eyes widened and his heart jumped a pace as he saw lights.

The opening of a cave!

Leading up to the light in that opening in the rocks, was a manner of slate much like a natural set of stairs. Perhaps they were not natural at all and that Andahl had chiseled them out of the mountainside.

That was to say, if his abode was not some previously inhabited space by some mountain-dwelling tribe or cult of death worshipers. They were always one of the like—or at least, that’s how the stories went.

But something else he noted. There were slits of light above the cave entrance. So this dwelling had a second level at least. This “cave” of Andahls was no mere cleft in the rocks.

Taking in a deep breath, Jeanbleau steeled himself and stepped forward, his fingers tightening over his sword hilt.

The opening of the cave looked ancient, rocky and craggy with deep scoring in the rocks. But the cave it seemed, was not wholly natural. No, the mouth was bordered by old scrollwork that formed a magnificent arched embossment.

Definitely death worshiping cultists once inhabited this place.

Perhaps if such a well-known villain lived up here, it would have been better to bring a party, but the Pumpkin Princess needed aid now, not next month.

It was the knightly thing to do, to strike out and assist such a damsel in distress, even if Jeanbleau was utterly outmatched. If any part of his sentencing was just, let this such action work toward him becoming reformed.

Though he disagreed with such a notion vehemently and wholeheartedly.

He smashed the snow as he took to each step and realized a stake in the ground, the skull of a human atop it. The bones were old, but not so old as to be an ancient thing. Whoever had died and been placed on this spike, the bones were un-aged enough that it could have been Andahl himself who did it.

A warning against trespassers.

Shivers ran up Jeanbleau’s spine as he glanced about warily.

He came to the last step before the ground leveled out into a slightly ascending turf of rocky, snow-covered terrain leading directly into the cave. Having not made out Andahl anywhere, this did nothing to calm the newly minted adventurer. Heart hammering inside his chest, Jeanbleau reached over with his right hand and grasped his sword hilt. Slowly, he pulled the blade free of its scabbard.

Jeanbleau swallowed against the knot in his throat and glanced about once more. There were no signs of Andahl or anyone else. All was quiet.

Too quiet.

He stepped forward, the sound of his boots crunching with ever stride like shattering glass that echoed about him everywhere. Jeanbleau tensed, wondering if he could lighten his footsteps.

He tried, but to little avail.

Once he stepped out of the exposed terrain and under the ominously overhanging mountainside, he could see into the cave entrance. It went in straight, then turned left and right respectively.

Lit torches ensconced within the wall kept the corridor lit. But someone had to come here to tend these things. Did Andahl have companions or accomplices to his dastardly actions of kidnapping princesses and taking them to his cave?

And what did he do once they were brought here?

The dark nature of this place sent a shiver through him. He did hope that the princess was safe and unharmed—and if so, perhaps Jeanbleau would allow Andahl to live.

Without the ice or snow under his feet, his steps were now far quieter than they had been before. Jeanbleau moved forward and came to the wall at the end of the corridor where a small table sat. There were various items atop it such as melons, a dagger and some sheefs of leather.

He took the path to the left which abruptly turned to the right again, leading forward into a chamber beyond. Glancing about, Jeanbleau still saw no signs of life within the cave.

But what he did notice was that this “cave” was no cave. This place had flat walls and square corners. It was an ancient temple fortress carved into the side of the mountain!

Glancing up, there was no proper ceiling to speak of, only stalactites hanging from the roof of the cave along with chains that had been attached up there with them. Hanging from the chains were skinned animals, ready to be eaten.

Glancing down, Jeanbleau noticed another dagger atop a bloodied table where the meat preparation was obviously taking place—the hilt of which was large enough for Jeanbleau to put two hands around.

What an oddly large dagger for such an activity.

It must make cutting the meat difficult. So, this Andahl is not the smartest tool in the shed.

With a grin, Jeanbleau strode forward past the hanging meat and toward the chamber beyond. When he got closer, he realized the chamber was not a chamber at all, but a corridor that wound up and around with steps.

This led to the other level he could see from below. He stepped forward quickly but lightly, his feet barely touching the dark rocks as he went up

When he came to the second level, he glanced about, looking past the two torches and found an elongated wooden table in the center of the chamber filled with meats, fruits and wines.

Lit candelabras across the table provided more light and the silverware glinted in the glow. Beyond, the slits, or windows of the chamber, were framed by heavy black curtains which were only partially open, which was why he could hardly see the light coming from them from outside.

“Psst!”

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Quickly, Jeanbleau glanced about, tensing for an attack.

“Pssst! Up here, dolt!”

He looked up at the sound of the woman’s voice coming from above. What he saw surprised him. There was a massive steel cage—like that of a bird’s nest with a domed top, hanging near the ceiling.

Narrowing his eyes, he asked quietly. “Are you the—“

“Shh!”

He stopped speaking.

She stared at him for a moment as she bent down in the cage. It was hard to make out her features from down on the ground, but she was quite obviously golden haired and dressed all in black.

She lifted a finger to her lips and she flicked her eyes to the wall and pointed. Jeanbleau followed with his own gaze and found a crank on the wall where a chain was wrapped around a wheel lock mechanism.

He nodded and strode toward it, then before taking hold, he glanced about one last time, then he shifted his eyes back up to the princess, who watched him from above. The bars on the cage were thick and spaced far enough apart that she could look down at him, but not so far that she couldn’t slip out of them.

Sheathing his blade, Jeanbleau took hold of the mechanism and started turning it, which required a lot of force, as the wheel was extremely hard to move. He had to grind his teeth and flex his muscles to the max.

As he turned the wheel lock, the cage came down with subtle stretching sounds as the rope strained. Jeanbleau turned it around in a full rotation once, then twice. As the cage neared the floor, he had to stop, and gasped for air as his muscles screamed for relief from their torture.

The cage was about head height now. Still too high for him to get at the lock.

Looking at her in there, he realized how beautiful she was.

“Hey,” she said as she grasped the bars on either side. “What’s your level?”

“I’m…”—he breathed heavily—“I’m… a level three. Why?”

“What?” she asked, her eyes widening. “Don’t you know the quest I put out says for level five or above? Can you not read?”

He was slightly taken aback by her rebuke of his level. All an adventurer’s level was, was in fact a soft gauging of skills and abilities. “Level three or level ten, my blade will pierce the neck of your captor just the same.”

She chortled. “Not if your blade can’t reach Andahl’s neck, good sir—oh noble adventurer, sir.”

Jeanbleau narrowed his eyes. “Are you mocking me, Princess?”

She cocked her head in surprise to his statement, though he knew not why.

“We will see,” she said. “Now hurry up and lower me all the way. Then you can get about picking this lock.” She gestured to the device keeping the cage door shut with long slender fingers. He noted the glossy nature of her immaculate nails.

But there was one problem.

“I can’t pick locks.”

“What?!”

“I can’t pick locks,” he repeated. “I have no proficiency in those arts.”

“Then please tell me you brought companions who do know how to pick locks? A ‘party,’ yes?”

Jeanbleau shook his head.

“You fool!”

“Shh!” he shushed. “Are you not going to alert Andahl?”

“I’m not sure it would matter at this point, seeing as how you have no way to get me out of this cage. Pray tell, you at least found my staff on your way up here?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh gods.” She turned and put her dainty hand over her forehead. “He’s probably left it in his sleeping chambers. Quick! Go up and get it for me.”

“But what about you?”

She shrugged. “I’m not going anywhere, adventurer, since you don’t know how to pick locks. You can slip me my staff through these bars—then I can get myself out.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “I suppose you are right.”

She nudged her chin up to the ceiling and looked him square in the eyes with her bright blue gaze. “Go get my staff. I should be able to break this lock easily if I have it.”

“All right,” he said, nodding.

Then her eyes flicked from his to the direction of the stairs and she yelled as if to her savior—which was not to Jeanbleau—“Andahl! Help!”

Jeanbleau turned and nearly jumped out of his own skin as a scream very unbefitting an ex-knight was release from him.

“Andahl!” the Pumpkin Princess exclaimed desperately. “Save me! This wicked adventurer has come to claim me—to take me away from you.”

What in the name of the gods?

He turned with a deep frown on his face and looked up at her. She glanced at him quickly and winked with one eye.

“Ah, I see,” he said and turned back to stairs.

Andahl came forward, revealing himself.

Jeanbleau craned his neck, his eyes widening. “Good lords!”

The massive, monstrous and hideous Andahl stood at the base of the stairs and Jeanbleau realized then that Andahl was no man, but a fucking troll!

Swallowing, he nodded. “Yes!” Jeanbleau said. “I am here to take the princess from you!” Andahl snarled wordlessly, took two massive strides forward and Jeanbleau realized he had taken two involuntary steps backward.

“YOU WILL NOT!” Andahl growled, the force of his words heavy on the wind, which blew Jeanbleau’s locks about his shoulders.

“Good heavens,” Jeanbleau croaked as his ghost nearly left his body.

“Hey!” the princess hissed quietly. “Don’t just stand there. Fight him!”

Andahl suddenly lunged, his massive white palm flying through the air overhead to swat Jeanbleau like a bug.

“Fuck!” Jeanbleau bleated, and he jumped.

He had never seen a troll before—not in Machazelle. No—there were no trolls there, especially trolls that looked like this massive beast. Andahl stood twelve feet tall at least and his powerful hands were large enough to envelop Jeanbleau at the torso and crush him like a wad of dried grass!

But he had jumped out of the way of the troll’s attempt to crush him flat, landing on his backside and scrabbling backward.

Andahl surged forward, his strides heavy like logs pounding the stones with every step. Fortunately the princess’ cage was in his way and he had to lumber around it, giving Jeanbleau enough time to get up and run!

But there was nowhere to run!

“COME HERE!”

Jeanbleau glanced back several times. He considered making for the steps at the end of the corridor that curved upward much like the stairs leading up here, but he didn’t know what lay in wait for him there.

The chamber beyond could be a dead end with Jeanbleau having nowhere to go like some kind of trapped rat, and like a trapped rat, his guts would be splattered all over the place if this monster got a hold of him.

So instead he took the completely-trash-but-safer path and ran to the far end of the heavy table, its boards whole logs that had been flattened by cutting the sides off. Jeanbleau would be unable to move such a table had he had a horse to assist him.

Andahl snarled as he stepped forward down the length of the table.

Jeanbleau’s eyes widened and he went around the bend to the other side. This seemed to catch Andahl’s notice and he stopped, glared at Jeanbleau with massive teeth made for clawing meat into his ugly maw.

Jeanbleau chuckled nervously with the table between them. But then he took a step back as Andahl grabbed it and thrust forward.

Jeanbleau’s heart jumped into his throat as the table was about to be flipped atop him, but instead it only slid forward half a pace, making a hideous noise across the flat rocks as the legs slid violently over them.

“Ha!” Jeanbleau laughed and pointed his finger at the stupid troll.

Showing his massive teeth that jutted out of the bottoms of his mouth like short fat boar tusks, Andahl stepped atop one of the log chairs and then moved his weight atop the table proper.

Jeanbleau’s mouth hung open and a horrible thrill passed through his entire body, threatening to immobilize him. Andahl snarled as he jumped off the table at Jeanbleau.

Lunging forward, the exile adventurer landed on his forearms, his blade slamming metallically across the stones as he scrambled back up to his feet as fast as he could.

Andahl’s thundering steps came from behind and Jeanbleau screamed pathetically as he circumnavigated the other end of the table, his boots sliding out from underhand as he went.

He toppled over.

Andahl grunted heavily and Jeanbleau knew this was the end, as the sound of that grunt indicated to him that Andahl was lashing out at himmmm!!!!!

Jeanbleau twisted his body and rolled across the animal-fur covered stones as fast as he could—like he was born to roll.

A loud slap hit the stones directly behind and Jeanbleau rolled over in two more full rotations.

“What are you doing?!” Oh gods!” the princess moaned. “Hey! Up here! Cut me loose, fool!”

As Jeanbleau came back to his feet, he lifted his sword—“I am not a fool!”—and heroically slashed through the thick rope.

Except his sword stopped.

“What?!” he snapped with incredulity as he glanced at his dull blade.

Jeanbleau screamed, lifted his sword over his head and swung with all his might, this time the rope cut, but not fully as multiple strands frayed and twirled about the main mass.

Andahl cried out angrily, “NO YOU DON’T!”

Jeanbleau let out another pathetic sound and ducked under the slanted rope and ran in a crouched position past the underside of the cage.

Andahl lumbered up to the cage, pushed it aside toward the wall slightly and ambled around it. With wide eyes, Jeanbleau didn’t run back for the safety of the table—whatever “safety” if offered. Instead he crab-sprinted around the cage as Andahl pursued him, but as he went, he swung his blade at the weak spot across the rope again, his blade bouncing back as more strands whipped away as they came undone.

“Pathetic!” the princess shrieked. “What kind of a dull blade is that anyway, huh?”

Jeanbleau ran to safety at the end of the table facing the stairs he had come up earlier, turning only for a split second to get a glance at Andahl. The troll was slowed as he went around the bulk of the cage.

“YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME, HUMAN!” He lumbered forward and Jeanbleau recoiled from him. “I WILL CATCH YOU!”

“You haven’t caught me yet!”

Suddenly Andhal took paused and glanced about. Then he moved away from Jeanbeau and he frowned after the monster. His eyes went over to the princess and with a shrug he asked an unspoken question.

She rolled her big blue eyes. “Ugh! Don’t give him ideas!”

“What?” Jeanbleau asked, but then his attention snapped onto to Andahl again just as the troll lumbered back from the wall, a pole in his huge right hand and the jaw bone of a hideous toothy monster lashed to the end of that pole, making it into a pike befitting barbarous troll.

Lifting his chin, Jeanbleau said, “Ah. I see what you mean. But not to worry!” he flourished his sword as best he could.

Exasperatedly the princess slapped a hand over her face.

“What?! It’s your fault you forgot to mention ‘troll’ in the quest you took out!”

"Uuugh!" the princess moaned. “I specifically said level five adventurers and above!”

"Your attitude”—Andahl lunged and Jeanbleau reacted—“is not helpinnnng!" The toothy end of his spear missed Jeanbleau only by a hand span. For such a large being, Andahl was surprisingly quick.

Jeanbleau cut left and sprinted down the length of the table as Andahl tracked him with his ugly and malicious stare of beady eyes. Jeanbleau glanced at him with his trash sword held high, thinking that the massive troll was hardly even concerned about such a weapon.

Andahl grunted, then struck out at Jeanbleau over the table. The “evil” knight cried out in sudden alarm as the toothy jawhead came into contact with Jeanbleau's chest.

“Gyaah!” he cried.

But the blow was a glancing one, if "glancing" could even describe the manner in which the weapon impacted Jeanbleau. It had not hit him fully, but the large teeth—teeth Jeanbleau had originally believed to be of an ass from the hells or some such silly beast—were most likely from a far more predatory animal.

The teeth raked Jeanbleau across the chest, and feeling them bite somewhat—puns aside—had not otherwise wounded him deeply as his cloaks and armor took a shredding.

Still, the Princess of Pumpkins—or was it the Pumpkin Princess? No matter. In any event, she shrieked fearfully, lessening Jeanbleau's own pathetic cry of sudden alarm. "Take care, Sir Knight!" she exclaimed as he backed away.

Shaking his head, Jeanbleau thought, On the one hand she chastises me, and with the other she shows concern for my wellbeing.

"Stop grinning like a fool! Andahl nearly disemboweled you just now!"

Jeanbleau shook himself to the present.

Evidentially listening to her, the troll in question took pause and chortled, the sound low and rumbling like tumbling logs in a mill.

Jeanbleau sighed heavily. "Now who is giving him ideas?!"

With a ferocious growl that came deep within his throat, Andahl said, "DO NOT SPEAK OF ME AS IF I AM NOT HERE!"

Jeanbleau regarded him. "You are quite articulate—much more so than I earlier gave you credit for, Andahl."

Ignoring his words, the troll broke right and began to make his way around the table as Jeanbleau, like a bead floating in a glass tube of water that had been tilted, recoiled away in perfect synchronicity. Andahl seemed to take notice of this quick reaction and stopped suddenly.

"You!" the princess barked.

Both Andahl and Jeanbleau turned to regard the caged girl in her black cloak hemmed in similarly black feathers that shimmered with a blue sheen.

"Yes?" they both asked at once.

The princess sniffed with an air of nervous bemusement. Then she shrugged, clearly unsure what to say while she had their attentions.

Despite that Andahl was on the side of the table shared with the space that her cage occupied, Jeanbleau seized the opportunity to lung forward toward the wall crank—and since Andahl wasn't paying him any mind Jeanbleau was able to slash for the third time, at the fraying rope The princess squealed with sudden exuberance before yelpping as her cage slammed metallically onto the stone floor.

Jeanbleau asked, "Are you well, Princess?"

Confusedly she answered, "Oh? Hmm, yes—look out!'

"HEY!" Andahl bellowed, the force of his shout thunderous enough to rattle metal plate, assuming Jeanbleau even had any—which of course he did not. "COME BACK HERE!"

Stupidly and immaturely, Jeanbleau had distracted himself with his concern for the princess's safety.

Andahl cried out throatily—"HRRRAH!"—as Jeanbleau jumped behind the metal cage to safety.

With a heavy grunt, he landed on his arm.

"HA!" Andahl shouted triumphantly. "DEAD."

But of course Jeanbleau was far from dead—he wasn't even hurt. Quickly he got up and seeing that Andahl was not pursuing, he sauntered out from behind the cage and put his most triumphant grin on. Haughtily he said, "Thou canist not kill me so easily, troll!" And he pointed the tip of his blade toward the troll as if he were some famous knight errant.

"Gods help me..." the princess muttered.

A small part of Jeanbleau was crestfallen. He had imagined this rescue happening a little differently—with more appreciation from the princess at least, but perhaps she would shower him with gratitude after he had successfully saved her?

"WHY WILL YOU NOT DIE, HUMAN?"

Jeanbleau laughed, now that his confidence was swelling. "Because I am this lady's courageous rescuer, and you are destined to fall here, monster!"

The princess turned her head to regard Jeanbleau. "Oh? Then by that account... 'good sir,' get on with it!"

They both looked at her, Jeanbleau because of his disappointment, Andahl probably because of her disloyalty. She seemed to realize both of their disappointments and shrugged. "There is nothing by which I can do, gentlemen regarding your duel. May the best—er—'fighter,' win!”

Andahl and Jeanbleau looked at each other in surprise and Jeanbleau snorted along with Andahl.

Then they reacted.

Andahl growled, lifting his spear as Jeanbleau screamed while lurching forward. He lifted his sword and struck Andahl across the forearm.

The troll recoiled reflexively as a thrill shot through Jeanbleau. It was over. He had struck the troll a wounding blow that—

"OWE!" Andahl said and shook the pain away, not a drop of blood or otherwise visible cut on his arm.

Jeanbleau's heart sunk and he chortled nervously like a fool.

"You should have sharpened your sword before coming here," the princess drawled. Jeanbleau glanced at her as she pushed her forehead to the cage bars, her dainty hands clasping the cold steal. Her face was a mask of sardonic annoyance.

And then Andahl huge yellow eyes fell over Jeanbleau and he smiled.

"Oh no..." Jeanbleau gasped.

The princess yawned—she actually yawned!— patting the air in front of her pink lips as Jeanbleau took two steps back.

Murderous glee filled Andahl's eyes as he raised his spear.

Then she said, "You better run adventurer."