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.

Ch. 2 - The Castle

The sun had set and the moon was silently creeping upward in the sky when at last Andrew and Jessica reached the tunnel’s entrance. It was a small, oak door that lay flat on the earthen ground, well-concealed under a leafy, thorny bush. It was so well-concealed, in fact, that the two youths searched for the trapdoor for at least five minutes before they realized where it was.

Andrew knelt down upon discovering it and slid one calloused hand under the thorny defenses of the foliage. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the door and then jerked it upwards. The door opened with a creak of un-oiled hinges, and the bush lifted with it. Jessica peered into the dark hole that resembled a crude mouth in the earth, ready to devour her.

She sucked in a deep breath and then gripped the sides of the opening, slowly lowering herself in. Once the tip of her toe connected with something solid, she reluctantly let go and took a few steps forward. The dark tunnel continued in one direction, but it was so dark she couldn’t tell if it stopped in a few feet, or a few miles. A light thud sounded behind her, and Jessica turned around to see Andrew in the act of closing the door behind them. They were both crouching, for the tunnel was low-ceilinged. A few seconds later, the narrow sides of dirt packed around them were illuminated as Andrew lit a match and lighted a torch that had been dormant and dusty in the side of a wall.

“Cramped,” he remarked, waving the flame around the short, constricting walls covered in mold and mildew. A smell of earth and rot filled their nostrils and caused them to hold their hands over their noses. They couldn’t stand side by side; the walls were so close together it was hard fitting without turning a shoulder to slide by diagonally.

“Let’s get going,” Jessica suggested. They shifted and squeezed, maneuvering around until Andrew was leading since he had the light. As they passed through the narrow walls, slumped over, Jessica asked in a timid voice, “Why are these tunnels even here?”

“I’ve heard many theories suggested by the band,” Andrew told her, sweeping the torch back and forth to light up the ground in front of his confident feet. “Barren said traders used it to sell wine to the guards and cooks without the king knowing. Melody said children built it to play in when it was raining and they were tired of the inside. Steven claims it was a military escape in case the castle was under siege, so some people could sneak out to the woods or further to get help, or food. Brooke is persuaded that a lonely princess had is secretly constructed ages ago, in order to provide her a secretive route in which to meet with her lover in the woods.” Andrew shrugged one shoulder. “But you know how she is.”

Jessica stared at the earthen walls laden with roots and covered in green foliage. They were supported with wooden columns that seemed half-rotten in some places. The floor, which was some kind of stone that might have been smooth in its day, was cracked and broken. “Well, whoever built it, they haven’t been down here in some number of years,” she remarked. The gloom in this place settled over her and bound her in its silent spell. Not even a faint dripping could be heard, or the wind whistling through loose stones. All was still and quiet.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the way, until at last they arrived at another door in the roof. Both of the youths shed their cloaks, revealing the garments of simple castle servants. Andrew slowly reached up and knocked twice on the old wood. Jessica was afraid it would splinter and rain down on them; it looked so ancient and fragile. After a few silent seconds, the door creaked open. Andrew was grabbed by two fragile-looking hands that helped him up and out of the dirty, cramped tunnel. Jessica approached the spot where he had been moments ago and reached up. Andrew’s tan hands grabbed her right arm, and the two pale ones her left. Once she was out of the tunnel, she blinked and saw herself looking into two big, blue eyes.

A young woman with pale blonde hair was staring back at her, dressed in the traditional garb of palace cooks. To her right, Andrew was stretching, his limbs glad to be out of the hunched-over position. The three occupants of the kitchen stood appraising one another with wary eyes, and the two newcomers unconsciously noted the dim light of a single candle and the glow it cast upon the cluttered kitchen.

“The fox an’ the ‘ound?” the woman questioned in a light, accented voice. Jessica recognized the code words, but Andrew was quicker to reply than she was.

“The door mouse?” Andrew’s eyes were scrutinizing her. She looked to be a bit older than them, and her build was thin but tough. Jessica wondered how she had heaved Andrew out of the hole, for she seemed so petite and small. Then again, she was a cook, and her arms seemed to bulge out of their long sleeves with muscle. She had a hidden strength, apparently. So this was their inside man… the door mouse; unseen, unheard, but always seeing, always hearing.

As if suddenly remembering something, the slight figure fished around in her apron pocket for an object. She pulled out two keys and hid each one under a plate on top of two trays laden with dishes full of fruit. Her eyes darted around the silent, darkened kitchen as if afraid of someone barging in at any moment. “Go quickly to the East tower,” she urged in her timid voice, ushering them forward. “’Is ‘ighnesses will want their evening snack soon,” she remarked as coolly as she would to two servants.

“Thank you,” Jessica said, saluting her by bringing a closed fist across her chest. The young woman did the same, and then Andrew and Jessica grabbed the trays with the concealed keys and hustled rapidly out of the large, kitchen door.

The passageways into which they hustled were made of large stones, smooth and polished like marble. There was a slight coolness to the air, and a vague scent of stuffy, musty smoke wafted to them from various rooms where their occupants were doubtlessly smoking pipes. Luckily, as they drew closer to the East tower, they ran into no one, and any guards that they chanced to cross were hopelessly drunk. It was beginning to seem as if no one would notice them at all as they wound up the final staircase toward the sleeping chambers of the king and his son.

Then Jessica rounded a corner and her breath caught in her throat. Two guards paced across the entrance to the narrow hall lined with doors that she needed to enter. Andrew glanced at her and then motioned for her to proceed forward. Her breath still frozen inside her, she stiffly approached the men. The guards stopped and stood erect upon seeing the two servants approaching.

“Halt. What businesses have you here?” questioned one of them. He had a big, red beard that obscured his mouth. Andrew didn’t move.

Jessica swallowed hard and replied evenly in the accent of most of the maids and servants, “The evenin’ snack for the king an’ ‘is son.” She smiled slightly, trying to appear as innocent and naive as she possibly could.

“I don’t recall him ordering anything,” the other guard, with thick, brown hair remarked. Panic welled up inside Jessica as she struggled to keep a calm countenance. “Now is when it matters,” she thought to herself.

Jessica leaned in toward the one with brown hair and whispered with a grin, “It’s unofficial. Cook’s request. She noticed ‘is majesties lookin’ sullen and stressed as of late, and thought some food might do ‘em some good.” The brown-haired guarded looked to the red-bearded one, who shrugged. The small girl seemed sincere enough, with her enchanting smile and her pleading eyes.

“You’re right – they’ve both seen happier days. Tread carefully,” advised the brown-haired guard.

“Thank you, sir,” Jessica said softly, dipping into a small curtsey and waiting until Andrew had bowed his head respectfully before walking past them and into the hallway ahead. Once they had turned a corner, she released a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

“You did fine,” Andrew reassured her. They continued down the hall until they got to the two doors opposite each other with jewels in their hinges and adorning the stone wall around them. There was a guard stationed between the two, but he had long since fallen asleep with his back against the wall, an empty mug nearby. Jessica and Andrew moved the plates from their position on the trays and grabbed the keys. They turned their backs to each other, each stuck his own key into its appropriate lock, and on the whispered count of three, they turned their handles and stepped inside their rooms.

Jessica hastily closed the door behind her and placed the tray of food on a side table. There were many elements to be noted in the magnificent room, such as the extravagant silk curtains, the mahogany side tables and bookcases, the elaborate portraits of past rulers staring down at her with cruel, condemning eyes, the fireplace’s ruddy glow, and the large stained-glass window in the eastern wall where light could stream in and illuminate the room with the rising sun.

All this was irrelevant compared to the large, canopy bed in the center of the room and the figure gently pulsating with breath sleeping inside it. The prince was covered except for his head in thick, puffy fabric that rose and fell slightly with each breath he took. Silently, she slipped over to the head of the bed and pulled out one of her knives. His body wasn’t as long as his bed and she pondered if the rumors were true that the prince was, indeed, a young one – perhaps even her own age.

Jessica sighed softly to herself. Well…it was now or never. Time to take the leap of faith. Or, rather, the stab…