Lord Maykeep stood amidst the light of braziers on the top of his ramparts, looking out across the fields of his land. Forest loomed past the fog in the distance. His keep was named “The Maykeep”, after his father had been granted the fortress along with the fief forty years prior. He wore a black leather vest fit tightly over a long lord’s skirt, held up by a sword belt which held his shorts word at his waist. He wore a snarled grin upon his old, wrinkly face. The guards that stood watch on the ramparts stood far from him—they knew better than to get in Lord Maykeep’s space when he was thinking here.

One of Maykeep’s concubines had just climbed up the ladder to join her lord on the ramparts. She had twisted, dreaded blonde and brown hair with lip piercings and dark eye make-up. She came up behind him, bringing her face up next to his cheek. Lord Maykeep harumphed, stroking her cheek with his right hand.

“My dear,” said Maykeep. “What a fine gift you have turned out to be from King Tuuka. I presume you prefer my lordliness over that weak, insufferable lord Tchoreg. He couldn’t defend a straw castle from a light wind if he tried.” The concubine snorted in laughter.

“Tell me, lord Warren,” began the concubine. “Am I the favorite of all of your women? You have so many I just…” the concubine circled out in front of Warren Maykeep, bringing a finger to his face, rubbing his cheeks and then touching his lip. “I just hope to be your favorite.”

Lord Maykeep smiled smugly, moving her fingers from his face. “You are my greatest treasure, thus far. But I expect there will be a few more treasures coming soon. One of which has been a long-lost specimen. A fine specimen…hair fine as silk and eyes deep as the ocean.” Warren Maykeep’s face grew serious. His eyes searched the forest line ahead. “She will be back soon I presume.”

“And how do you know?” asked the concubine. Lord Maykeep had taken to giving her a new name, Tory, after lord “Torkild”.

“A crow landed upon my shoulder not too long ago with word from my scouts. The lady Aurela and my former servant Vaya were seen alone, travelling through the Crag towards Baronview not long ago. I have riders tracking them now.” Warren’s belly began to move up and down. A slow chuckle rumbled into a laugh and then a coughing fit. Tory the concubine brought a wineskin to his mouth, pouring the red liquid down his throat and then kissing his thin, pink lips.

“You must be tired, my lord. Come, let us get some rest before your treasures are delivered.” Tory grabbed Warren Maykeep’s hand and led him towards the ladder. They returned to his bedchambers to find the rest of his gathered concubines. There were nine of them, but Tory was the only one he paid any mind to. The rest were invisible to him, besides for scrubbing his back and washing his feet.

*

Aurela and Vaya had grabbed whatever ponies they could find. They were in a rush. Vaya felt a rush of excitement wash over her. Not just for the mere fact that she was escaping, but she was doing it with the aid of the king’s daughter. And she had initiated the escape. If anything, Aurela was the one at fault. Vaya had simply followed the instruction of the royal daughter of Aydar and Lenora.

Vaya had trouble keeping pace with Aurela, however. For the first two miles, Aurela had geared her pony into a sprint. Kicking at the spurs and yanking the reins, Aurela led the pony through the Crag and into the northern reach. It was dark out and the air was crisp and cool—but the wind felt good against Vaya’s face after being cooped up for so long in the stuffy tower.

They rode over rocks, boulders, crevices, and deep pits. Her pony nearly twisted its ankle at one point on a pointed rock. A deep ravine beckoned for her life below. Rocks and pebbles gave way, tumbling down into the dark abyss. Thankfully, Vaya’s pony had reared itself just in time. It pushed off the ledge and leapt the chasm, landing at the other side where Aurela had sat upon her own mare, waiting with fingers in her mouth and a spooked look upon her face.

“You must be careful,” Aurela had said.

“I’m trying. But you ride quickly, and my pony has stubby legs!” replied Vaya. Aurela didn’t respond. She gave a friendly smile, then kicked her pony back into action at lightening speed.

“Why must we go so fast?” shouted Vaya. Aurela could not hear her. But Vaya knew why, despite her asking. Although Ser Jaqon and the hunters did not roam the eight paths of the Crag any longer, there were still posted scouts and knights throughout the region at any given hour to search for possible threats. The security had been boosted since the learning of King Tuuka’s invasion of Bulkjor. But that news was only a day old, and the Crag had not yet filled out with more than few knights. Most of them were busy listening to the queen’s whines and complaints about local lords and fiefdoms that needed discipline from the recent trade disaster. The fiefdoms of Dalrin were turning on each other.

They passed a couple of guards, but Aurela kept her hood up to cover her face. Her face was recognizable anywhere in Dalrin as daughter to the king. But her purple cloak flowed in the wind and her oversized hood covered his face. Vaya did not have a hood, wearing long blue robes that Aurela had found in the stables. But Vaya’s face was not realm-renown like Aurela’s. The guards they flew past shouted their weak protests but gave no notice to their identities.

Finally, after six miles of riding, Aurela slowed her horse. They were arriving upon sloped land, but it was flat and without daunting chasms and boulders. They had emerged from the eight paths of the Crag and were headed uphill toward Baronview, the capital. It overlooked the Crag and sat thirty miles from Crow Castle.

“Why’re we going this way?” asked Vaya, naïve to the secrecy that Aurela was committed to.

“Did you expect to waltz in to Baronview at the front gates? We have to enter from the east side. There are less guards there, and more darkness and shadows to veil our approach.” Vaya just pursed her lips and nodded. It seemed to make sense, but she inwardly doubted their ability to scale the Baronview city walls. Weren’t there guards posted at every corner, every checkpoint along that wall? Besides, if they did manage to somehow scale the walls, whose to say they’d make it to Jaqon and Rohinar before being to held back by another guard, thief, pillager, commoner, or politician? Aurela’s hood could only conceal so much of her face in a busy city—let alone the capital.

Vaya was thankful to allow their horses to slow to a canter along the slope. The slant was gradual, and sporadic rock outcroppings propped up at random spots along the green-grass slant. Far off into the distance, Vaya could spy the vague outline of city walls. Outlined by the light of the stars and the Bolg Moon, Vaya thought she could make out the shapes of guards standing watch. As they neared, she realized they were just the jagged shapes of the parapets, rather than people.

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Despite their nearness, they still had miles and miles to go. But the destination was in sight, and that fueled the two ladies. The outside air felt so good on Vaya’s skin. She smiled as she rode. It had been too long inside the confines of that depressing tower. She had always imagined Rohinar coming to rescue her, but here she was coming to him. But what would she say when she saw him? What if he was sitting with the lady Elswitta? Vaya felt a place of contempt grow in her heart. The lady Elswitta had no right to Rohinar, to any part of him. Vaya felt she had earned her place in his heart, and she wanted him back.

Vaya found Aurela staring at her as they rode. Their mounts were side by side. Vaya looked toward Aurela, smiling lightly. How long had she been staring? Vaya felt a nervousness run through her. This was royalty she was escaping with. The daughter of a great king.

“Have I told you much of my relationship with Jaqon?” asked Aurela. Vaya noted that she had dropped his title from his name. It was Ser Jaqon. She supposed she did the same with the prince, calling him Rohinar instead of Prince Rohinar.

“You’ve told me little of him, why?” asked Vaya.

“I figured I ought to fill you in before we get there. And whilst we have time to kill.”

“Yeah?” Vaya said, opening up the conversation with her tone.

“We were secret lovers, as you know. He taught me to use the spear. Taught me to fish, to hunt. He showed me the dungeons and the Crow Quarters. He took care of me…” Aurela trailed off, her smile turned awry.

“What is it?” asked Vaya.

“I was just remembering something…a memory I had in the dungeons. It is like a dream that I can vaguely recall. It is there, but it is not. I believe lord Varisy was there as well. My stomach turns sick at the thought of him, but I cannot remember why.”

Vaya drew her lips into a firm line. She could not affirm or deny anything Aurela said, but she pretended to brood over it deeply. She had thoughts only for Rohinar. But why did she care so deeply for him? Was it that he drew her out of the Crag and brought her in? He had not truly done much for him. And yet, she knew her looks had seduced him. Just as his princehood had seduced herself. She had an intuition that they were right for each other. An image of the Silver Tree burned through her head again. It stung. She felt her forehead tingle. She furrowed her brow, bringing a hand to her head. She swayed in her saddle.

“Vaya? Are you alright?”

The image snapped through her head once more. The tree was burning. Ropes were tied around its trunk. Men heaved at the tree, trying to bring it down. Others were by the tree’s side, harvesting the sap in heavy suits of armor with a veil over their faces so that they would not breath the air. The tree’s roots flung out of the ground and flailed wildly, knocking men to their feet. A troop of Dalrin soldiers poured out from the castle with swords drawn and war cries filling the air. The image came and went. Vaya’s vision blacked, and then returned.

King Tuuka. Zdeno. Ser Jaqon. Varisy, returned from the dead. Lord Cythos. The faces of these men flickered through her mind all within half a second. Then it was gone. She returned to the night’s still air. She felt her rear sit sore upon the back of her mount. A headache persisted but all was normal again.

“What happened? I was worried you—”

“I’m fine. Just a headache. I was seeing double, but my vision is back.”

Aurela stared at Vaya like she had two heads. Vaya ignored her looks.

After some time, Baronview was finally more visible. The slope had grown steeper, and their mounts were forced to move slowly. The ground had grown soft and slippery from run-off from the city. They were approaching from the east where the sewage drained, and the city’s storm run-off was funneled. A line littering of trees was all that stood between the city walls and them. The trees were just thick enough with underbrush that they might be able to approach closer on foot, concealed. Aurela dismounted. Vaya followed suit. There was still two miles to go, but at least they could see their destination.

Aurela gave her mount a kiss on the snout, patting its side. “You can go now,” whispered Auerla. Vaya did the same, giving a goodbye kiss to her pony.

The air suddenly grew chilly. Flakes began to drop from the sky.

“That was odd,” said Aurela. “It got so cold suddenly. You felt that too, right? I don’t think that’s normal.”

Vaya nodded in agreement, searching the sky around her. The snowflakes began to thicken, making it harder and harder to see. The tree. The tree is giving us cover as we near Baronview. The tree is with me. An intuition filled Vaya’s head. She didn’t dare tell Aurela. Her bond to the tree still felt a private thing. Besides, Aurela’s family had grown distant from the sacred religion of the tree. No sense in bringing a sensitive matter—not now. But nonetheless, Vaya and Aurela were grateful for the cover of thick flakes. Despite the bone-chilling temperatures, they marched onward. The grass grew icy and slick, causing them to slip often. Vaya’s lip busted open on a rock that she slipped. She counted her lucky stars that she had not cracked a tooth. Aurela cut her leg on a stick that was jutting out from the ground. But beside those minors’ scratches and hits, they made it to the hollow groove of trees mostly unscathed. Between the heavy snowfall and the underbrush with which to move through, the two girls went unnoticed. Widely spaced sentries stood careless atop the wall. They were not expecting anyone to be out in this weather. They had their hoods drawn and eyes squinted, for the snow was blowing eastward and into their faces.

*

“How do we scale those walls?” Vaya finally asked. They had been sitting awhile and the stone walls were thirty feet high.

“The stones are unevenly stacked. There are footholds for us to step on. You will see,” replied Aurela.

“But what if the guards look down?”

“They won’t. They would have to walk right to the edge of the parapet and look directly down. With this bitter cold, I don’t think any of them are moving right now.” Aurela was right. And of the four who stood on watch, only two remained. The other two had gone inside, likely to get warm.

“We’ll make a break for the city wall when I say ‘go’. Got it, Vaya?” Aurela heard no reply. She turned. Vaya was gone. ‘Vaya?”

A gloved hand came from behind Aurela, covering her mouth. A sled rammed into her back, scooping Aurela and her captor onto the sled and guiding them down the steep slope. Another captor sat the front of the sled with twine rope for a steer. He leaned this way and that, guiding the sled past thin trees. Aurela was helpless to move. The man who was holding her in his lap was a burly, strong man. She tested her arms. Useless. Her legs were already bound by rope. When had that happened?

Moments later, when they were beyond the grove of trees and the snowfall was too thick for the city wall guards to see them, Aurela saw another sled adjacent to theirs. Hardly able to see through the snowfall, Aurela could only assume it was Vaya. They were being taken. Kidnapped. By whom, Aurela wondered? It couldn’t be men from Baronview, could it? Was it Ser Jaqon and his men, working as the new city watch patrol? Aurela thought it possible, until the sleds came to a stop at the part where the slope evened out into flatter land. More rocks and boulders filled the landscape here. They were back where they started—where the Crag met the eastern border of the northern reach.

Their assailants shoved the girls from the sleds. They tossed the two sleds down into a chasm and untied their large destriers from a boulder. These men weren’t from Baronview. Aurela knew the sigil from their leather coats. Maykeep’s men. Aurela felt sick. Her plan had gone horribly wrong.

Vaya and Aurela were lifted onto separate destriers and hauled away through the snow. Aurela could hardly tell where they were being taken. The snow was disorienting. But eventually they did arrive at their destination after four hours of riding through the night.

A dry, wrinkly smile awaited them from atop a parapet. A piercing-faced, dreaded haired concubine stood beside lord Maykeep.

“Welcome to the Maykeep, girls.” His words were followed by a raspy laugh. The gates were dropped and the black destriers were ushered through.

Vaya and Aurela were captured. Hostages.

Aurela and Vaya looked at one another, gags in their mouths and limbs bound by rope. Tears formed in Aurela’s eyes. Vaya bit back her own tears. Vaya was back in a familiar prison. The very place she had risked her life to escape.

Lord Maykeep approached them in the courtyard. The snow was still berating them.

“This one,” said Maykeep, showing Aurela to Tory, “will prove to be a fine token for negotiation. The prince puts his nose where it doesn’t belong, killing my men. I take his sister. And anyways, King Tuuka will be well pleased.” He turned to Vaya, laughing manically. “But this one,” he paused. “This one isn’t going anywhere. They’re going to have to pry her from my dead body if they want this one back.”