Twelve

The week preceding their scheduled departure passed quickly. Franklin trained Marcus every day from dawn to dusk, just like he had at the barracks in the woods, in both combat and royal etiquette. He learned quite a bit on both fronts and could now manage not to get himself executed when in the presence of royalty. Marcus felt like that was a real possibility.

Marcus had also made progress getting his attendant, Melody, to open up to him. It was still difficult for her to carry on a full conversation with him, but she still had managed to tell him about her family and what it was like to work in the duke’s manor.

Just like him, she was an only child but had never known her parents. They both had died when she was little, killed by a sickness that had clawed its way through the city. She had grown up in an orphanage set up to take in the sudden influx of so many children and was considered lucky to have been chosen to serve in the duke’s manor and had worked there for over twenty years.

It was a sad situation, but Marcus did his best to make her smile.

The morning they were slated to leave came about, and Marcus was watching the stars slowly wink out of existence as the sun’s light brightened the sky. It hadn’t breached the horizon yet and wouldn’t for a few more minutes, but Marcus and the others were all ready to go. He took his eyes off the wide-open sky and looked to either side, amazed at the size of the convoy of carriages moving to the kingdom of Pol Trulant.

There were at least thirty large wagons, all of them loaded with Lady Alissa’s belongings and the massive dowry the third prince demanded for her hand in marriage. Each carriage was pulled by a team of four muscular stallions, every one of them brushed to a shine, and their manes braided in complicated patterns. Equally as grand as the carriages and horses were the small army of armored soldiers and attendants swarming over and around them.

“Everything is ready. We are only waiting for Lady Alissa.” Franklin said as he walked up to Marcus, holding the reins of the horse trailing behind him.

“Have you spoken to her?” Marcus asked, kicking at the ground.

Franklin shook his head while looking down at the ground Marcus was pushing around with his foot. “No one has. She hasn’t even spoken to Duke Dresden. She refused to come out of her room.”

“Well, what did the Duke expect? I still can’t believe he waited so long to tell her.”

“I cannot say what Master Dresden was thinking,” Franklin admitted with furrowed brows before rapping his knuckles on the steel plates encompassing Marcus’ body. “It looks good on you. Sir Gronlin did an exemplary job on the etchings.”

Marcus looked down at himself, the heavy metal plates starting to burn in the rising sun. “He did. I really like the detail on the vines, but I could have done with fewer flowers.”

The Duke had commissioned a set of armor for Marcus, smithed by the most skilled blacksmith in the city-state, and he had done a fantastic job. It was a set of full steel-plate armor, just like Franklin’s, only much larger to fit Marcus’ towering frame. Sir Gronlin, the master smith, had used his talents to the fullest and engraved lifelike visages of nature into the hard metal, specifically lilies and fuchsias.

Those just happened to be Lady Alissa’s favorites.

“Just remember to oil it nightly and to check the straps before adorning it. No amount of armor is going to help you if it is too loose,” Franklin advised as he ensured that Marcus was wearing the pieces correctly.

“Yes, mother.” Marcus dolled as he rolled his eyes and swatted at the man tugging on his chest piece.

Franklin stopped fussing over him like a mother hen but gave him an intense look. “This is no joking matter. Both of your lives depend on it… On you.”

Marcus let out a deep huff but still nodded his head. “I realize that. But you can’t be serious all of the time; that’s how you get an ulcer.” Marcus ignored Franklin’s confused look, “And I won’t do anything that would jeopardize Alissa in any way… Well, speak of the devil.”

Coming out of the manor, directly behind Franklin, Lady Alissa made an appearance. She wore a dress of dark fabrics that seemed to soak up the burgeoning daylight, long and loose sleeves covered her fair skin, and a black shawl helped to keep her warmth from escaping into the cool morning air.

“She looks like she’s going to a funeral.” Marcus couldn’t help but comment under his breath, earning a pointed look from Franklin. “What?”

Once Lady Alissa had made it into her very fancy and very large, carriage, the entire convoy began to roll and stomp out of the duke’s estate. They moved very slowly, partly because they were still in the city but mainly because of the sheer number of people, animals, and wagons involved. Marcus himself was perched atop Lady Alissa’s carriage, right next to a very stern-looking driver with thickly calloused hands. He tried to enjoy the refreshing breeze as they moved but just couldn’t ignore the sobs coming from the passenger cabin behind him.

It was midday by the time their caravan exited the city and dusk by the time the city was no longer visible on the horizon. Marcus’ backside had long ago gone numb; the bench he sat on had very little in terms of cushion, and the number and depth of the ruts in the road made the ride an excruciating experience. Luckily, it was almost over for the night.

“Do you think we’ll all be able to fit in there?” Marcus asked the carriage driver sitting next to him, squinting his eyes at the large clearing off the side of the road.

Pulling the reins to the right, he answered in a deceptively deep voice for a man of his size. “All of our rest areas have been planned in advance. There should be no issue.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Marcus said as he twisted his torso, attempting to loosen up the tight muscles running up his back. “I suppose I should have paid more attention during those little meetings, huh?”

After that disastrous dinner where he had first met Lady Alissa, they had gotten together several times after that to discuss the travel arrangements. They were all very extensive and meticulously detailed, and Marcus was ashamed to say that he had tuned most of them out. He tried to pay attention; he really did, but he could only hear about how many extra axles they would need to carry once before it became unbearable.

“Mmhmm…” The driver hummed before shaking his head and pulling the horses to a stop. As soon as he set the brake, Marcus dove off of the driver’s bench and landed on the ground with a deep thud.

Taking that as a signal, the entire convoy burst into a flurry of activity. The armored and armed soldiers dismounted their steeds and marched off into the forest in groups of two, scouting for any dangers that might be lurking within the trees. The regular attendants started in on setting up the tents, lighting cooking fires, or tending to the animals, while the few maids that had come with them rushed about to ensure that Lady Alissa had every comfort available to her during their short stay in the clearing.

Marcus felt pretty useless standing there next to the most ostentatious carriage imaginable, watching everyone else work. He leaned on his warhammer, using it as a crutch to hold himself up and give his aching back a break. It wasn’t the ‘knightliest’ of poses, but he didn’t care.

“Straighten up.” Franklin barked, nearly causing Marcus to jump out of his skin.

The seal he had almost forgotten about over the past week burned as his sore muscles constricted, straightening his posture. Marcus hissed in pain as he struggled to keep from cursing. If he did, Franklin would surely voice his displeasure.

“Really?” Marcus snapped, his voice hinting at his own displeasure. “My back is killing me…”

“Always assume that someone is watching. You are a reflection of Lady Alissa. What you do matters.”

Suddenly, when thinking of that poor girl in the carriage next to him, Marcus felt extremely guilty. He felt like he should do everything in his power to make her life easier, not harder. They were both in a situation neither one of them wanted to be in, forced against their will to do something they detested. Well, he didn’t hate that he was protecting the girl, but the fact that he was a slave and forced to do it.

“…I’m sorry.” Marcus conceded. “You’re right. It won’t happen again.”

The searing pain receded from his back as Franklin nodded at him. “I will send one of the attendants your way with some balm. It will help relax your muscles and relieve the pain.”

Before Marcus could thank the man, the door to the passenger cabin squeaked open. Lady Alissa climbed down the short steps with the help of an attendant who had appeared from nowhere like magic, and Franklin hurried to give her a proper bow. Marcus, always seemingly slow on the uptake, bowed as well.

“I need some fresh air.” Lady Alissa started with her head held high, but her voice was hoarse from hours of crying. “I am going to go on a walk.”

Franklin gave her a wary look before his eyes drifted to Marcus standing next to him. “My Lady, perhaps you should have a meal first. They have only just started the fires, but it still should only be a few minutes.”

“I do not wish to wait. I will go for a walk, and I will do it when I please.” Lady Alissa snapped in anger, her face having contorted into a mixture of rage and despair before marching off towards the forest.

Franklin let out a barely audible sigh while he gave Marcus a pointed look. “Do not let her get too far from the camp.”

Marcus didn’t say a word. He could only shake his head, put on his helm, and stomp off after the foul-tempered woman.

The sun was just now setting, and the tall trees absorbed what little light was left, casting long, dark shadows across the forest floor. He actually didn’t have any problems seeing in the dim light, but his full-face helm did limit his field of view slightly. But he had to wear it. Franklin made it very clear that he should be fully equipped when guarding Lady Alissa.

“Leave me alone!” Lady Alissa cried over her shoulder as she held the hem of her dress off of the ground. She didn’t slow her steps as she sped through the underbrush, and Marcus was worried that she would fall if she weren’t careful.

“Slow down,” Marcus called out, his large steps closing the distance between them quickly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“If nobody cares what happens to me, why should I?” Her words came out in a growl as her speed actually increased.

Marcus kept pace with her but didn’t say anything. He knew that nothing he said would help, and she would have to work through this on her own. Marcus just had to be sure to be there for her when she needed it.

And that moment came suddenly when Lady Alissa’s foot caught a hidden root, and she tumbled forward with a scream. Marcus lunged forward, wrapping his armored arm around her slender waist. For a moment, he was disappointed that he wasn’t able to feel her soft skin against his own, but he somehow still felt a gentle warmth radiating off of her as he pulled her upright.

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“Let. Me. Go!” Lady Alissa demanded as she started to slap Marcus with open palms, the armor covering his body rattling with each delicate strike.

His slave seal didn’t activate as it would with the Duke or Franklin’s orders, so Marcus didn’t let the sobbing woman go. He tossed his hammer to the side and wrapped his other arm around her, rubbing her back as gently as he could with his gauntleted hands. She continued to smack at him with decreasing strength until, eventually, she sank into his arms, and her eyes streamed warm tears that spattered against Marcus’ cold armor.

They both stood like that for several long minutes until, eventually, Lady Alissa’s sobs slowed to a stop, and her shuddering breaths evened into something that allowed her to speak. “I… thank you. I am sorry, I recognize you, but I am afraid I do not… remember your name.”

Marcus couldn’t hold on to his snort as he laughed. “Marcus. My name is Marcus.”

“Just Marcus? No last name?” She asked as she looked up at him and took a step back all the while smoothing out her rumpled dress. “Are you not a noble or a knight?”

Marcus removed his helmet before shaking his head. If they were going to talk, it would be better if she was able to see his face. “I do have a last name, but I’m neither one of those.”

Lady Alissa’s face scrunched up in thought; Marcus was immediately taken aback by how charming she was in the dying light. “What is it then? And how do you have a last name if you are neither a knight nor noble? Lorenth regulates titles closely.”

“It’s Monce,” Marcus told her while shrugging his shoulders. “And I’m not from Lorenth.”

“Oh,” she said, her face lighting up in realization. “A knight from another kingdom, how exciting! I am sure you have many stories of all the adventures you have been on, right?” Lady Alissa looked delighted as she imagined all of the things Marcus had surely never experienced, she probably knew herself that her own imagination was getting away from her but wanted to think about anything other than her own future bearing down on her. “Can you tell me about them? Not all right now, of course, but later?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Marcus agreed as he returned her bright and energetic smile. He didn’t have it in him to tell her that he was a slave and forced to look after her. “Now, how about we head back? I’m sure you’re hungry. I know I am.”

She inhaled a sharp breath, and a more serious look found its way onto her soft features. “Yes, I am. And the others will not begin eating without me, so we should return.” Nodding her head with her shoulders back, she lifted the hem of her dress and took a few steps before stopping to look back at Marcus. “Sir Monce…”

“No, please, call me Marcus. Using my last name sounds weird.” He said, holding up his hand.

Another, smaller smile twisted the corners of her plump lips. “Alright, Sir Marcus… Marcus.” She corrected with a giggle as Marcus gave her a look. “Thank you… I know I do not know you, but thank you for being here for me… and for the embrace. I needed that more than I knew.”

“…anytime.”

The next morning was much like the first, and the day after that was the same as well. Their large group quickly got into a rhythm of packing up their camp, traveling throughout the day, stopping to rest, setting out their tents, and then doing it all over again. It was extraordinarily mundane.

One upside was that his back and rear end had quickly gotten used to the hard bench, although every rut they hit reminded him that they were still there. One thing that helped to break up the monotony of the slow pace was the energetic conversations between him and Lady Alissa.

After the first night when she had run off into the forest and their subsequent conversation, she had opened up to him greatly. Marcus wasn’t the only one that she talked to, far from it, but whenever they did talk, he would try to keep the topics from ever drifting too close to what waited for them in the neighboring kingdom. Something that she greatly appreciated.

“So, the witch was going to eat that little boy?” Lady Alissa asked with a look of horror on her face, the jostling of the carriage causing her silky blonde hair to bounce around wildly. “That is horrid. I have never heard of a witch that would do such an awful thing.”

Marcus let out a bellow of a laugh as he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s only a story, and his sister saves him in the end.”

“Really? I thought she escaped to get help?”

Marcus had been retelling all the fairytales he knew as they went down the road. Not only did it kill time, but Alissa also found the stories enthralling. Marcus had even noticed the stalwart carriage driver leaning in as he talked. It was a good time all around.

“She did, but she came back. Just as the witch opened her oven to shove the little boy inside to bake, she snuck up behind her and shoved her inside instead!” Marcus exclaimed, shoving his hands out in front of him in demonstration. “The witch burned alive as Hansel and Gretel ran out of the gingerbread house and into the woods to safety.”

“That’s so macabre…” She said in feigned disgust but was unable to contain the smile on her lips. “Marcus, where did you hear all of these stories? I have never heard anything like them before.”

“Books. I used to read quite a bit back in school, so I have a lot more where those came from.” Marcus said absentmindedly as he watched a large flock of purple birds take off from a nearby tree, frightened by the rumbling caravan.

“Really? Oh, I do love to read.” Lady Alissa declared as her eyes caught the birds as well. “I have loads of books; feel free to look through them if you’d like to.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” Marcus stumbled over his words as his face pinkened slightly. “But I can’t really read… I mean, I can read. It’s just that I can’t read your books.”

Lady Alissa looked awfully confused by Marcus’ admission; she looked at him with a deep crease between her brows. “I do not understand. You said you had an education, and you enjoyed reading…”

“Well, when I came to Lorenth, I wasn’t able to speak the language at all.” He explained. “But they used some kind of magic that let me understand and talk with people here.”

It took Lady Alissa a moment before she nodded her head in understanding. “The brand of babble. I’ve read about that in one of my textbooks. It is rarely used anymore because of how painful it is.” She looked up into Marcus’ emerald-tinted eyes. “It must have hurt a great deal.”

Marcus averted his eyes. If he didn’t, he was likely to drown in them. “It was fine, really. I didn’t feel a thing. But maybe someday I’ll be able to read the books here; it’s something to look forward to, at least.”

Since being abandoned in this world by some unknown means, Marcus had been either fighting to stay alive or being brutally trained. He hadn’t had much time to himself. But once he and Alissa had a place in the Pol Trulant royal palace, he didn’t know how much training he would be able to do and would need something else to fill his time. Reading books would be perfect, but he would have to learn how to do that first.

“I could teach you.”

Marcus flicked his eyes back to hers, a look of determination on her face. “Teach me how to read?” Lady Alissa nodded her head, her golden curls bouncing pleasantly. “I would really appreciate that, as long as it doesn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“Nonsense, it is not trouble at all. It is not like there is anything else so terribly important that occupies my time...” Then she tapped her chin with a slender finger as if she was thinking very deeply. “But there is one condition that must be met.”

“What’s that?” Marcus asked, finding her antics cute. “I’ll do my utmost to fulfill whatever demands you make of me.”

“You must teach me how to speak and read in your language.” She announced. “If I happen to ever come across one of those story books, I would like to be able to read them as well.”

“Well,” Marcus chuckled. “I’m not much of a teacher, but I’ll do my best.”

The sound of galloping hooves interrupted their dealings, causing Marcus to stand atop the rocking carriage. His hand wrapped around the short rails edging the box seat, giving him some semblance of balance as he looked around.

“You should pop your head back inside.” He said over his shoulder, looking at the blonde woman sticking out of the small window in the front of the carriage. “I’ll knock when I know it’s safe.”

Clear concern flashed across her face but was quickly schooled into one of resolve. “Of course… Marcus, be safe.”

With those words, Lady Alissa ducked back into the carriage, leaving Marcus free to locate what was making the ruckus. Which didn’t take long at all. A rider adorned with flexible leather armor came speeding down the road. His horse was a tawny color, with a white stripe reaching from between its large eyes all the way down to its flaring nose. It was frothing at the mouth, its lungs bellowing as its gallop slowed to a steady saunter before eventually stopping next to Franklin, who had ridden out to meet the rider.

The rider, who must have been one of the scouts, and Franklin exchanged a few words before splitting up. Although Marcus couldn’t hear what was said between them, the speed at which Franklin approached Lady Alissa’s carriage told him it wasn’t overly serious.

“What’s the bad news?” Marcus called out as he sat back down.

Pulling his horse around to walk next to the moving carriage, Franklin explained what the scout had told him. “The road is blocked up ahead.”

“Did a tree fall over? Could be bandits.” Of course, Marcus had no experience with bandits in this world or his own, but he had read enough about them to know that they would block up a road to rob whoever came down it. “That’s how they get you, you know.”

“I am well aware of that fact, but it is not bandits we are dealing with.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because what is blocking the road is a brae . If we do not get it to move, we will be substantially delayed.” Franklin explained as his horse let out a braying whicker.

“A brae!” Lady Alissa shouted from inside the carriage just before she poked her head out of the front window. “I have never seen one before, only illustrations in a few of my books. Did you know that they are considered nearly extinct and that they…”

“Lady Alissa, please. There will be plenty of time for you to educate us on the fauna of the region. For now, we must discuss what it is we will do.” Franklin said, earning himself a glare, which he pointedly ignored. “A brae is never known to move unless it wills to, and we have not the manpower to force it off the road.”

Marcus was still lost. He had no idea what a brae was, but from the context could tell that it must be huge. “Is that thing dangerous in any way?”

“No, they’re not.” Lady Alissa jumped back into the conversation. “That is why they are nearly all gone. Although very large, they are soft-tempered and lack any means of defense other than their thick shells.”

“I really want to see this thing now,” Marcus said as he stood up again, trying to see down the curvy dirt road past the tall trees.

“Oh, I do, too.” Lady Alissa concurred, straining in vain to see through the thick forest.

A heavy sigh came from their side as Franklin straightened up his reins. “Absolutely not. Even though braes are not known to be aggressive, it is still much too dangerous to take lightly. We will make camp some distance away, and you will wait there until we can clear the road.”

Franklin said those words, but his eyes were directed at Lady Alissa and not him. Marcus didn’t miss out on the fact that his slave seal had no reaction as an idea began to form in his mind.