Chapter 11 Princess

A friend of mine and I ran away once to find one of the feral herds to live with, but they stay in small groups, families. They said we were too old to live with them. My parents found me and brought me home before they could eat me. They did eat my friend, though. — Prince Eater #34

The Armed Watch returned to SnakeIn without any other confrontations, and when Alec reached the inn, he took the narrow attic stairs two at a time until he was beside Prince Jon. Although the healer and seamster were still present, and despite Jon being unconscious, Alec dropped to one knee and began the pledge to dedicate his life and loyalty to his dearest friend.

“Stand up, you fool,” a harsh voice said from the door. “He can’t be a prince here in SnakeIn, and you can’t display that type of soppy behavior. It isn’t safe.”

Alec lunged to his feet as he clasped the hilt of his sword and spun to face the intruder. A lanky woman stood with her elbows indignantly akimbo, and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Her unremarkable brown hair fell loosely around her shoulders but did nothing to soften the glare in her belligerent eyes.

“The Armed Watch told me one of my brothers was here,” the woman continued. “They said he was nearly dead. It looks like they were right.”

“Don’t give up on him yet, Annie,” Healer Callahan interjected.

“Annie?” Alec asked. He looked from Jon to the woman, and then back again. The resemblance was unmistakable. “You’re Princess Tatiana?”

“We don’t use our kingdom names here,” Callahan corrected. “We forget them.”

Someone reached through the door to touch her back, and Annie moved to one side. Captain Tom Jarek strolled into the small attic room. Despite wearing civilian clothing, his military bearing threatened to overwhelm the small room. He paused to study Jon laying on the bed, ran his fingers through his auburn hair, and shook his head as if in disbelief.

Turning immediately to Alec, Captain Jarek reached out to shake hands. He said pleasantly, “I’m Tom Jarek. Don’t mind my wife. Situations with her family worry her heart, and she manages it by being irritable with everyone.”

Princess Tatiana scowled but said nothing.

“She is right, however,” Captain Jarek continued, friendliness shining from warm brown eyes. “You do him and yourself a disservice by continuing to treat him as royalty. There are many people here in SnakeIn who would like nothing better than to get their hands on the king, however, an injured, helpless prince will do just as nicely. No, for the two of you to remain, his royalty must be a closely guarded secret. We’ve had to do the same. For instance, my name is simply Tom Jarek, and my wife is Annie Jarek.”

The former princess smiled far more pleasantly than Alec expected and nodded her agreement with her husband’s instructions.

“I’m Alec Mulrian,” Alec supplied. “Former archer to Holy King Harrison.”

“Annie, which prince is this?” Tom asked his wife.

“I don’t know,” Annie said with a shrug. “I only heard of them. I never met any of them.”

“Prince Jon,” Alec answered. As he talked he shuffled his feet, shifted his weight impatiently, and then twisted partway around so he could see Jon.

Healer Callahan looked up from gathering together his instruments and Seamster McSwiney turned from washing his hands, and they said in unison, “He isn’t a prince here. He’s free.”

“Unfortunately, I was only acquainted with poor Reggie,” Tom offered. He tilted his chin toward the two men to indicate that they were right, and then sauntered casually to the bed and openly inspected the damage to Jon. After a moment he spoke again. “He’s going to hurt for a long time. This is worse than many battle injuries I’ve seen.”

“Yes, yes it is, but the bones and the lacerations will mend. I anticipate no problem there,” Callahan explained as he returned to Jon’s bedside and pointed out each significant injury. “However, he will need the aid of a cane for the rest of his life. The cuts and open wounds are straightforward enough with no early signs of infection, so as long as infection doesn’t set in, they will all heal well. The wolf bite and lacerations on his arm and the smaller, numerous rat bites on his ankles look good. You used incappbo seeds?”

“An incappbo seed extraction,” Alec responded as Jon’s eyes fluttered and stared at all the people in the room. Alec immediately knelt beside Jon again and put a palm protectively on Jon’s chest. “You haven’t mentioned his face.”

“Yes, well, the wound to his face is serious,” Healer Callahan agreed. “The jaw is not broken. A few teeth are loose, so I’ve wired them in place. In my experience, they will firm up again. There’s an abrasion on his tongue that will trouble him, but it will clear up, too. Obviously, we stitched the right side of his face back together and it will take a long time before he can use his mouth comfortably. It will never be the same as it was. He will need liquids – broth and soup – and maybe, in a couple of days or so, very soft food such as you’d feed to an infant. His eye was not injured so his vision will be fine. I’ve left medication on the table. He needs to swallow two tablespoons of the liquid in the blue vial in the morning and two in the evening. I will also leave you a powder to mix with water for the pain; use it with great care, it has serious side effects including depression and unsettling dreams. While I have never had a patient kill himself because of this medication, other healers I know have suffered that misfortune, so please be very careful.” Once Alec agreed, Callahan continued, “The large, red jar contains an ointment that you are to apply to his face liberally and often. It isn’t pretty, and it smells repulsive, but it will help reduce the scarring. He will always have droopiness on that side of his face.”

Jon groaned at the long recitation of instructions and then turned his face to the wall. Alec moved his hand tenderly to Jon’s neck, and although Jon didn’t speak, he moved his chin so that he could use it to squeeze Alec’s hand.

“Let’s call him Jon Holdingfree,” Annie declared as if Jon were neither in the room nor capable of making any decisions for himself. “Jon is an ordinary enough name that it won’t raise any suspicions, and with the condition he is in, he won’t be able to learn to respond to anything else.”

“Many newcomers take the last name Holdingfree,” Callahan reassured Alec. “It’s very common. It’s a sound choice.”

“In that case, I’ll be Holdingfree, too,” Alec said. “Alec Holdingfree, at least until Jon is well enough to express his own opinion about what he wants to be called.”

“Annie,” Healer Callahan began with obvious hesitance. Annie shifted to look directly at him. “Jon’s lost a great deal of blood. We should take an Ancestor Blood Sample from you to see if we can transfuse him with your blood. You’re the most likely to match.”

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Seeing Annie’s recalcitrance, Alec spoke up immediately, “I have no idea what an Ancestor Blood Sample is, but if it will help Jon, try to match mine, too.”

“And mine,” Tom and Seamster McSwiney chimed at the same time.

“Ask Craig and Kenzie, too,” Tom added.

Annie rolled her eyes, stuck out her arm, and agreed, “Test away. I would never refuse a member of my own family. Or anyone, for that matter.”

Healer Callahan moved to his medical bag, rummaged through the inside pockets, and extracted a mysterious-looking kit. Seeing Alec marking his every move and gesture, Callahan explained, “The Four Glorious told us that blood comes in a few distinct styles, and if a patient has over-bled, then introducing some from a matching style into the patient will help. We’ve used their procedure for centuries. It’s simple and if Annie is a match, it will be completely safe.”

When the match was confirmed, Tom dashed down the four flights of stairs and returned with a cot and both Rory and Callen Docherty. Annie reclined on the cot. Callahan attached needles into Jon’s and Annie’s arms, secured a tube between the needles, and then signaled to Tom and the Docherty Brothers. They elevated Annie’s cot over their heads so that her blood could flow down the tube into Jon’s arm. As soon as he comprehended what they were doing, Alec stepped up but realized there was no space free where he could help hold the cot. He settled for pacing the floor anxiously. The procedure only took a few minutes and once Annie regained her feet, the two boys leaned the cot against a wall, and then went downstairs. Kenzie came up almost immediately with tea and biscuits for everyone, saying as she arranged the refreshments, “It will help Annie’s body replace the missing blood and who doesn’t like a treat now and again.”

Healer Callahan finished packing his medical bag and joined Seamster McSwiney and the others for a cup of tea. When it was finished, he examined Jon once more and then nodded his approval of Jon’s condition. Straightening, he picked up his medical bag, looked to Seamster McSwiney, and canted his head toward the door. The two men bowed respectfully toward everyone in the room before vanishing down the attic stairs.

“I want so much to bring Jon home,” Annie continued as she sat on the wooden chair to regain her equilibrium after the transfusion. “But that would not be safe for any of us. There are people familiar with my background. Gossip is already rampant in SnakeIn about a prince who miraculously outwitted the king’s Writ of Execution. About half the people are saying you were disowned for being a coward.” Jon winced at the word but didn’t speak. “While the other half, insists that the sentence was unjust. All of them are calling you The Prince Rescued by Love. If an injured young man were to suddenly appear in our home, well, SnakeIn would guess the truth. I don’t want to chance it.”

“For that same reason, we can’t be seen coming around here too frequently,” Tom Jarek chimed in with a grin. “We will stop by when we can, but as Annie says, we can’t associate closely with the two of you without the risk of putting you in jeopardy. That doesn’t mean you are alone in this, though. I will pay for this room and two meals a day upfront, say for a year, to begin with. That way you can focus on helping Jon with whatever he needs. I didn’t think to bring extra coins today, but I will send you money for daily expenses. You’ll share this room, but you would have to anyway because of his medical needs. We’ll ask Craig to have his oldest come up to help as often as possible after he finishes his other chores. You will need to rest and see to your own needs, and sometimes even a simple stroll outside will seem like a blessing.”

“A year?” Alec questioned as he stationed himself at Jon’s side again.

“More, if necessary,” Tom reassured him. “Don’t worry. We have the funds. Annie’s father made sure that we would be well set for life.”

“Annie’s father?”

“Yes, he has a hard life, but he tries to do the right thing,” Tom continued. “If he hadn’t helped us, neither Annie nor I would be alive right now.”

“How? I mean, he wanted you imprisoned,” Alec stammered in confusion.

“Only in public,” Annie replied. She walked to the bed where Jon lay with his eyes closed, elbowed Alec aside to remove a loose pillow, and continued, “How do you think the Armed Watch realized so quickly who you were and that you needed help? Holy King Harrison arranged it ahead of time. Here, help me roll Jon over so we can put these fresh blankets on the bed. These are bloody.”

Jon moaned but didn’t object as Alec lifted him from the bed so that Annie could change the bedclothes. Annie gestured to her husband and said, “Tom, help me move the bed against the wall. It’s nice having both sides open, but they need the living space, don’t you think?”

“Leave enough space so I can get between the bed and the wall,” Alec spoke up. “Please. That will make it easier for me to tend to Jon. I’ll push it all the way over when Jon is better. Thank you.”

Tom came to her aid immediately. Once they repositioned the bed against the wall, Annie signaled to Alec that he could set Jon on the bed. As Alec did, Jon’s second moan sounded so painful that Alec needed to turn his own face to avoid tears.

“You’ll be safe in SnakeIn, relatively safe, I mean,” Tom said, politely ignoring Alec’s emotional distress. “The king and the magi are both afraid of SnakeIn. The Legend of Indulf and Beathas is part of the reason.”

Alec tipped his head and asked, “The bodies outside the city gate?”

Tom shrugged and clarified, “No one knows whose bodies those are or where they came from. They’ve been there for at least three generations. At the base of the legend is solid science. After the Mothership Cataclysm, our scientists made better use of what knowledge survived. The magi focused their bit of science on gaining power and control. The Ritual is designed to cripple the individual who undergoes it so that any prince who survives becomes dependent on the magi, and he takes that dependency with him as king. We used ours for medical improvements, education, and most importantly to this discussion, defense. The bridges are designed to trap intruders. The Enveloping Defense will burn up almost any airborne projectiles before they can reach their target.”

“The actual reason that soldiers and agents of either the king or the magi stay away,” Annie added, “is that most of the residents in SnakeIn are exiles – expatriates, fugitives, deserters, convicts, people who were abused by the judicial system, the Kings Soldiers, or the magi. Many are descendants of those exiles. All of them have reason to be angry and any of them might exact revenge on whomever they can whenever they can.”

Alec rubbed Jon’s arm with one hand as his brow furrowed with concern and he considered the implications of Annie’s information. Tom’s eyes followed Alec’s movement. When he realized that Jon was dozing off again, he commented, “We should let Jon and Alec get some rest, Annie. Let’s have food and some ale sent up on our way out.”

Only a few minutes after Annie and Tom left, the innkeeper’s oldest son brought a plate of food and a jar of ale for Alec, along with a cup of broth for Jon, more blankets, another pillow, and a set of clothes for Jon. Both of Craig’s sons were athletic. Alec noticed earlier that the younger son who had helped with the horses had his father’s dark skin and eyes. The older son, standing in the doorway now, had pale skin, short black hair, and smiling blue eyes.

“We weren’t sure if he is up to sipping some soup or not but thought we would bring some up in case he is,” the youth explained. Alec took the dishes from him and thanked him graciously. “If you need anything else, my father is down in the pub. Any of us will help if we can. I’ve got to get back to my other chores.”

Rory unfolded the cot that had been used for the transfusion and set it up by the wall opposite Jon’s bed. He put a pillow at one end and a pair of blankets across it. He smoothed out the wrinkles in the bedding, set the clothes at the foot, nodded to Alec, and then headed downstairs. Alec slid the lone wooden chair in the room over to the bed. When he saw that Jon was awake, he offered the broth to Jon. The patient moaned, shook his head in defeat, and muttered almost incoherently, “Other chores.”

“You’re not a chore, Jon,” Alec responded. He set the cup down on the small table beside the medications and reached across Jon for his relatively good, left hand. When Jon’s fingers closed on his, Alec whispered, “You will never be a chore. Not when you’re like this. Not once you’re well.”

Jon didn’t attempt a verbal response. Instead, he lay there quietly clasping his friend’s hand until he dozed off again. Alec sat there for several minutes, knowing Jon was asleep, but unwilling to move away or release Jon’s hand. Releasing it meant facing their dire situation. Moving away from the side of the bed meant that he would start to think. Alec realized that he needed to plan for their future, but he didn’t want to think, didn’t want to wonder, didn’t want to even guess why a father who had carved open his son’s face would turn around and arrange for that same son to be rescued. It made no sense and caused several people to die unnecessarily. There was no logic to it. None. If anything, it was insane.

©2022 Vera S. Scott