Ch. 3 - The Escape

Jessica clenched the knife and raised it above the prince’s head. Steadying herself, she took a deep breath and then brought it down with all her might. Halfway through her movement, she could tell something was wrong. Her suspicion was confirmed when her weapon sliced through nothing but air. The prince had rolled over at the last minute, and was now jumping up off the floor. She jerked her knife out of the mattress and spun around. Her eyes detected a flash of light glinting in his hand, and she ducked to avoid a swipe from his knife. The glowing fireplace emitted a ghostly light that illuminated his face. He had a straight nose that rested above his thin lips. Two high cheekbones guarded either side of his square face, and his fair, blonde hair fell over his forehead in the worst case of bed head hair she had ever seen. But his eyes were challenging, vivid, alive, and their startling blue hue stared portrayed a sense of calm.

Jessica frowned. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She tossed her knife up in the air, caught it by its tip, and threw it at the center of his chest. With almost uncanny speed, he twisted away and let the blade pierce a porcelain jar behind him which shattered instantly. He raised one of his blonde eyebrows.

“You just wasted your only weapon. For an assassin, you’re not that bright,” he commented, in a voice deeper than she would have expected. Irritated, she slipped another knife out from inside her boot with one hand and a dagger from her belt with the other.

“And you haven’t called your guard yet. You’re not that bright, either,” she thought. “I have enough weapons to finish my job,” she retorted out loud. He took a step backward, and she launched another knife his way. He ducked under this one, once again more quickly than she would have imagined possible. Changing her target, she shot her other dagger at his feet. He nimbly leapt over it like a deer. She stared at him for a moment, confused and frustrated, before quickly lunging for the poker by the fireplace. She swung it around and caught the blade he had in the process of thrusting at her. Taking two steps forward, she struck at his sides. He blocked each of her blows, all the while keeping a calm countenance. Their fight caused them to dance around the room, parrying and blocking and spinning and ducking all the while. Now quite angry, she lashed out at his head with the poker. He quickly stepped to the side. She stumbled forward and he grabbed both her wrists from behind so tightly she released her weapon with a small cry. He twisted her right arm and pinned it against her back, roughly shoving her forward until she was pressed against the wall.

They were both breathing heavily now, and sweat had formed along Jessica’s brow. Gasping, she tried to move, but his hands held her wrists firmly. Her face was pressed against the cold, stone wall, and she suddenly felt a chill run down her spine.

“Who are you?” he hissed in her ear. She shivered but said nothing, only uselessly trying to wrench her arms away. “Answer me!” he commanded, pushing her harder into the wall. She refused to answer. He sighed softly. “I haven’t called my guards yet; I know they’ll be harsher than I. I had hoped you would explain yourself without their influence.”

He paused, as if waiting for her to reply. The room seemed to hold its breath. Everything was still except for their echoing breaths. “So be it,” he said, exasperated. “Guard!” he called out, his deep voice ringing out in the quiet room.

Jessica regained her breath, and she closed her eyes. She counted the seconds. After five had passed by, she permitted a small smile to creep across her lips. “He won’t come,” said the girl.
His grip on her wrists tightened. “What do you mean?”

She could hear the suspicion in his voice. With enough confidence as she could muster, she replied coolly, “He’s dead.”

At that moment, the door burst open. The prince’s grip loosened, and Jessica took the opportunity to kick her leg out backward. Her foot connected with flesh, and she quickly whipped around to see the prince doubled over, with Andrew in the doorway. Andrew sprung forward, dagger in hand, and positioned himself behind the prince.

“Wait,” Jessica said quickly, raising a shaking hand. “We still need him. We can get out through the main gate with him as a hostage. Tunnels are too cramped for three people.” Andrew froze, and then gradually realized she was right. The prince’s eyes rose hopefully to meet hers. “We can kill him once we’re outside the gate,” she said in a level voice, relishing revenge.

“Wait until my father finds out about this, you scheming little—” the rest of his highness’ words were cut off as Jessica gagged him.

“Your father,” Jessica began, smirking in front of him as she bound his hands with some cloth she had torn from her sleeve, “Is dead.” The youth’s bright, blue eyes widened. Andrew reached his arm around the prince and placed his dagger firmly on the hostage’s neck. In a few moments, all three of them were preceding down the hall, the prince in between the two assassins, both of which had weapons pressing into his skin. He struggled and thrashed, of course, but they dragged him along anyway.

They hadn’t run into anyone and were beginning to feel hopeful until they got to the first level and were starting across the grounds. A few tall, muscular men in armor spotted them and rushed forward.

“Stop!” Andrew called out when he saw them. By now the sun had long since set, and the moon only gave out enough light in the darkness to reveal faint outlines and shadows. “We have the prince, and we’ll kill ‘im!” The shapes continued running toward them. “Stop moving or I’ll slit his throat!” Andrew shouted. At last, the shadows slowed.

Jessica, Andrew, and the prince continued across the moonlit grass, their eyes flickering between the gate ahead that led to freedom, and the slinking, sliding guards. Jessica pressed the knife upward under the prince’s chin. He sucked in a sharp breath, and the guards finally stopped. How strange it must have been to see their prince, in his white nightshirt and cotton trousers, being held at knife point by two people almost his age.

“Let us pass. Open the gates,” commanded Jessica. A well-built, sturdy man took a step toward the gates, but then hesitated. They were so close… “Now!” hollered Jessica. Reluctantly, he continued to the huge wooden wheel in front of the stone wall next to the huge, portcullis gate. As the heavy gate slowly rose with a grating sound, Jessica shifted from foot to foot uneasily. They were so close…so close to victory. It was almost too easy.

The prince knew he was almost out of protection, and he thrashed violently in their constricting grips. It was hopeless, for the youths were trained, and they didn’t budge or loosen their hold at all. At last, the gate was fully opened. The trio walked quickly towards it, suspiciously glancing around them always, dragging their stubborn captive with them. “Walk backwards,” Andrew commanded. They faced the guards, making sure none of them moved, and walked under the grey, stone archway. “Close the gates!” shouted Andrew, still backing up. Jessica’s nerves still hadn’t settled, and she anxiously bit her lip. The gates slowly inched their way down, making the same grating noise as before. They took a few more steps back, and then Andrew gave the command to turn around and run into the surrounding woods. Once the castle was out of view, the two assassins relaxed and paused to regain their breath.

Trees as old as time watched the trio gasping and panting and leaning against the trees. “We’ll be pursued,” Jessica warned. Andrew’s narrowed, brown eyes peered into the dark, foreboding trees behind them. He turned to their captive and ungagged him. Jess shot him a puzzled look.

“Let’s kill him now,” Andrew suggested, his voice now lethally low.

“Let’s not and say we did,” the prince interjected, not at all as frightened or as alarmed as Jessica had hoped he would be.

“Andy…” Jessica started, her brow furrowed in confusion. “If he stays alive, he could help us plan our attacks…he knows the castle best, and he could tell us the guards’ next move.”

“I like that staying alive part,” the prince said, nodding as if they had been looking for his approval.

“No, we have a man on the inside who could tell us just as much, and the prince has caused us enough trouble already,” Andrew told her, gripping his knife tighter.

“What trouble is that? I don’t know you,” the prince stated. “I don’t even know your name. Mine’s Benji, by the way.”

“Shut up,” Andrew growled. “You and your father make the laws that have allowed our city to turn to ruin. You are the reason people are allowed to be sold as slaves. You are the reason people who can’t pay taxes are thrown in jail instead of given an allowance of time in which to pay off. You are the reason children are orphaned at age five because their parents disagreed with your government,” Andy fiercely declared. Benji shook his head.

“That’s not what I am. My father issued those laws, and he would have issued laws worse than that, had I not been there to stop him. I am the reason those slaves weren’t killed. I am the reason civilians are thrown in jail instead of being butchered. I am the reason the orphans live, so that they can prosper and grow, and become citizens just as strong and perseverant as their parents.” Benji’s eyes flashed. “Don’t blame me for the sins of my father. Believe me, this country would be worse off without me.”

“And better off without your father,” Jessica added, glancing at Andrew. He was standing in front of Benji with his knife extended. Rage and passion were etched into his tense face. “Andy…maybe we made a mistake,” she ventured to say. He turned to glare at her.

“What? Jess, it’s starting to sound like you’re on his side! Are you going to go through with this or are you a traitor? Do not betray your country; they’re counting on you. On me. On us.”

“But what if we were wrong?” she questioned, doubts beginning to circulate within her at the prince’s words.

“Human error should be taken into account in every equation,” Benji chimed in.

“Shut up,” Jessica commanded the captive, harshly. Shifting her gaze back to Andrew, she wondered out loud, “What if leaving Benji there was a good idea? I mean, if he does agree with what we stand for…if he’s really on our side…”

“Question is,” Benji interrupted, “Whose side are you on?”

“The people’s,” Jessica said plainly, allowing a bit of irritation to seep into her voice.

“I don’ think we should let him live,” Andrew cautioned.

“I disagree. Let’s take a vote,” Benji countered.

“Shut UP!” Jessica and Andy shouted, together. “By the stars…” mumbled Jessica.

“Are you drunk?” Andrew questioned the prince.

“No, no, I never drink. I like to keep my wits about me. You should try it some time,” Benji evenly replied. Andrew whipped out his dagger, letting out a shout of rage and reaching for the prince’s neck. Benji shrank back a bit, but the emotion portrayed in his dark blue eyes was one Jessica couldn’t quite place or name.

“Wait! Maybe we should take him back to the Great Dane!” Jessica exclaimed loudly. Andrew froze, breathing quickly. Seizing the opportunity, Jessica added, “There might be a bigger use for the prince than either of us can see right now…I think we should take him back and hand him over to the Dane: He’ll know what to do. Better to be safe and let him be killed there, than sorry later that he’s dead now.”

Andrew gave Benji another hateful look before sighing and stowing his dagger. “Fine. But if he so much as breathes too loudly, I’ll kill him.”

“Ah, I see you despise competition,” Benji commented. A few minutes later, they were all trudging through the woods in the waning moonlight. Benji was blindfolded with his hands tied in front of him and a lead rope connecting him to Andrew. The three carefully and as quickly as possible made their way back towards the city where their leader would be waiting for them. Jessica just hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed. And so the fox and the hound led their palace peacock to the lions’ den.