Young Writers Society

Nathaniel read the message three times before he understood. George’s writing was a scrawl, on a minuscule scrap of paper that was tied to his hunting falcon’s leg. But even when Nathaniel had deciphered that that word might have meant ‘gone’ and not ‘qovl’, his disbelief got in the way of working it out any further.

“What is it?” asked Charlie, who had been trying to read the message the entire time.

Nathaniel struggled to find words. “Alicia,” he finally said. “She’s vanished.”

His mind jumped to the last time he had seen her, just two weeks ago as she came to the palace to survey proceedings in Parliament and afterwards to stand with her family and greet the dignitaries. The scent of a spring day had wafted off her hair, so different to the world outside as the leaves were just beginning to turn. She had floated from lord to lady, and Nathaniel was only a knight on duty in the hall, but at every interval she would turn to smile at him like it was the first time she had ever seen him.

“Vanished where?” asked Charlie.

“Well if they knew that there wouldn’t be a problem,” Nathaniel said, hitting Charlie lightly on the head. “Honestly.”

Charlie rubbed the place where he had been hit. “Only I can see you moving towards the horses and I figure that means we’re going to go for an epic ride and I’d like to know in what direction.”

“We’ll go back to Cadoras first, and see what the story is, but George seems to think we should head on to the Academy from there, together.”

“Well of course he thinks we should go to the Academy, he wants to see Gen, and who knows what they’ll get up to!” Charlie whined, but he was still moving to his horse’s side and beginning to mount.

“We’ll keep a close eye on him,” Nathaniel muttered, kicking Leonard into motion.

The two of them had been half-heartedly heading home to Iron Holdings, since Nathaniel had finished his round of guarding the King. The King had six permanent knights as guards, which included Sir George Sigrid, and six more would rotate to complete his personal elite bodyguard, separate from the bog-standard palace guards. Having finished his duty by the King’s side, Nathaniel was supposed to return to the land of his liege lord and continue training Charlie. But Lord Ribbon himself was in the palace, and there was nothing to do out East. While his heart was still hammering at the thought of Alicia’s disappearance, a small part of Nathaniel was delighted not to have to go home just yet.

The city gates were shut as dark fell, but Sir George was waiting for them outside the gates, leaning on the wall, or perhaps the entire city was leaning on Sir George. He was certainly big enough to support it.

“What happened?” Nathaniel asked.

George shrugged. “I was on duty outside the King’s office, and he got a bird to say Alicia has gone missing. Vanished. Gone. That’s all I know.”

“And the King let you go?”

George nodded. “Queen wasn’t happy. Kept saying that she was sure Avery’s had it under control and that they shouldn’t be ‘understaffed’ if she had gone missing and they were out for the rest of the family. Selfish idiot.” George rolled his eyes. “So she convinced His Majesty to only send one knight, and that one knight was me. I figured they wouldn’t mind me calling on a few of our favourite freelancers.”

“Two,” Charlie mumbled. “Two is not a few.”

“And technically only one and a half, since you’re not a knight, right Charlie?” George thumped Charlie on the back. Charlie winced and said nothing.

“Let’s just go,” Nathaniel offered instead.

They rode west from the city and as it got dark they approached the Glistenfell Woods, and land belonging to the Avery family. They turned up the laneway that would lead to the house. Charlie slipped off Monty’s back less than five minutes into their journey through the woods, and Monty went to nibble on a nearby bush. Nathaniel halted and dismounted to help his friend up.

“How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie said, running a hand through his hair. “There was a branch, and I ducked, and then all of a sudden I was on the ground and Monty was going on without me.”

Monty seemed quite content without his rider. George had stopped a good way ahead and was looking back at them.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Charlie hoisted himself up, rubbing a bruise on his backside and possibly his already much dented dignity.

“Come on,” said Nathaniel. “Don’t let George get to you.”

“Get to me?” Charlie’s voice was unnaturally high. “Why on earth would you think that? George and I are great friends! Monty, get back here!” He grabbed at the black gelding’s mane in the dark, but missed spectacularly as Monty took another step forwards to a new grazing patch.

Nathaniel sighed and took Monty’s reins himself, and once Charlie was up, they rode to meet George. George rolled his eyes, dug his heels into his horse and kept going. Charlie was staring at the ground.

“Look up, Charlie, you won’t be able to tell where we’re going,” Nathaniel said as brightly as he could. Charlie looked up, his face a picture of misery. Nathaniel could understand Charlie’s dislike of George. If George married Gen he would become Count of Iron Holdings, something Charlie had always so desperately wanted but never been afforded. For George to simply waltz in and take it without any preparation, Nathaniel knew, must be torturous.

The gold gates of Avery’s Academy for Future Female Rulers came into sight, firmly shut against the three of them. Nathaniel dismounted and shouted into the grounds, drawing a sleepy looking guard from the hut further down the wall.

“Who are ye?” The guard squinted at them all. Nathaniel moved as best he could out of the shadows of the wood and removed his helmet so the guard could see his face.

“I’m Sir Nathaniel Bolt of Brushbridge and this is my squire Charlie Ribbon from Iron Holdings. Behind us is Sir George Sigrid of the Northern Edge and personal guard to King Sinclair. We were sent when we heard the news of the missing princess.”

“Didn’t get notice.”

“There wasn’t time.”

The guard grunted but all the same produced a key and unlocked the gates for them. Nathaniel rode in front all the way up to the house. Even as they approached, two figures appeared on the steps.

“What are you three doing here?” Gen shouted. George gave a sort of roar, jumping from his saddle and picking Gen up, twirling her around in the air. Nathaniel glanced at Charlie, whose lips were pulled into a thin grimace, but nevertheless clambered down from Monty’s back to go embrace his cousin.

Nathaniel was glad to see Genevieve but for now, his attention was focused on the other figure on the steps. Taller and straighter than Gen, Astrid Race looked almost ghost-like in the long white nightgown, holding an old green jacket close around her. Her yellow hair was loose and lying on her shoulders. Always more reserved than Gen, she walked straight down the steps without moving her arms and into Nathaniel’s embrace.

He held her close, clasping her head to his breastplate as her arms unfroze and snaked around his back. Her body was surprisingly hard for all her soft face and hair, and warm like a fire compared to the chill of the autumn night.

Wordlessly, he let her go again, and she allowed a quick smile, bashful smile. Embraces like that were not commonplace for Astrid but this was not a commonplace sort of night.

“Nat, come here!” Gen interrupted that perfect silence that Nathaniel always associated with Astrid, and demanded a hug from her old friend. Laughing, Nathaniel obliged, but then let her go and turned straight back to Astrid, meeting her serious brown gaze. “Tell me everything.”