Young Writers Society

Ariel watched Nathaniel saunter away from the castle. She smiled, even his stride belayed his ease and confidence. There were no guards at the gates yet, but they all knew Nathaniel. Had they been there they would have smiled, and told some indecent joke. Nathaniel would have laughed, and said it wasn’t like that. They wouldn’t have believed him. As it was, the courtyard was silent. There was only his curly hair, bouncing and coppery in the sunlight, and the mist from his breath climbing through the still air. Nathaniel turned, and waved goodbye before slipping out of sight beneath the forest just outside of the gates. She waved back, and then closed the wood shutters of her window.

Without the sunlight her room was nothing more than a freezing grey prison cell. There was no coal to light a fire, nor breakfast coming. No servants dared come to her room anymore. 

It had been different in the past. She still remembered the times when breakfast had arrived before she had even stirred, and the fire had been stoked well before her toes were to touch the floor. Carpets, and tapestries, and clever little toys bought by her father on his travels. Those had been days filled with warmth, and love. Spent entirely with her mother, her nanny, and even her father if she was lucky. But, after he died, all of those things left one by one.

Her father, being a man who hated paper work and didn't believe in dying had never left a will. Her mother, being a sweet and petted thing, knew nothing of running businesses or managing estates. She had sought out her husband's family for help and found herself pressed into a marriage with her husband's youngest brother.

That, or forsake everything. 

The night before the ceremony, Ariel thought her mother would weep until the heavens fell. The impression of her mother's hand still prickled on her cheek, the memory of her words still tugged at her heart,

"Please forgive me," she had said, "I do this only for you."

It had been that moment when Ariel decided she would never love her step-father.  He was a skinny scheming man, a bent and crooked shadow of her father. The first time she had seen him, standing in her father's office, she had wondered what sort of animal had wondered in. There was no shame in his eyes, his grace was that of a cat stalking it's prey, his smile the snarl of a wolf, and his kindness the hug of a snake. 

Like an animal, his appetites were never satisfied. He hungered for exotic foods, exotic clothes, exotic women, and exotic animals. 

Their cellars were soon stocked with strange drinks, their pantries with strange spices, their stables with strange beasts, and their halls filled with strange people. The man spent everything they owned, then began to borrow from his brother's business partners. Debts he never re-paid. 

Her mother cloistered herself in her room,  unable to stomach the bizarre food and drink any more than the company her "husband" liked to keep. In her time alone she studied. She read every book in her late husbands library. Books on keeping business and estates, numbers and politics.

Armed with this knowledge, she began to repair the damage his brother was doing. She wrote letters to her husbands partners, she devised deals, and scraped together money by selling her families heirlooms. Bit by bit she repaid is debts, but her home was being eaten out from beneath her.

Amber remembered seeing her mother grow stronger in spirit, but weaker in body.

She had died a pitiful creature, with pale lips and trembling arms, and not a dime to her own name.

Ariel shook her head, and fiercely wiped the tears from her eyes. She would save her tears for her Step-fathers funeral. 

Ariel  walked up to her door, and dislodged her throwing knife. It was simple, unadorned, with a thin precise blade, and a wrapped leather handle. It had been a gift from Nathaniel long ago, when the both of them were children. He had given it to her the day after her step-father had tried to corner her in the library. They hadn't really understood what was happening back then, but they had known it was dangerous. Ever since then she had practiced with it, and sharpened it almost to the point of obsession. She named it Beloved, because to her it was the most precious survival tool she owned. There were few in the castle who hadn’t learned to respect that blade, especially her Step-father. It was the only key she had to her prison doors, but it wouldn't be that way for long. Any day now, this castle would belong to her and Nathaniel, and no one else. 

Her stomach growled loud enough for anyone standing near to hear. There was a giggling sound behind the door, and the sound of footsteps quickly scurrying down the stairs. Anger flashed hot. Was that impertinent girl spying on her?!

She swung the door hard and wide, stepped out in the hall, and with fury driven instinct launched the blade in the direction her enemy had fled. It clattered harmlessly against the stone and rolled down the stairs out of sight. More giggling, infuriating giggling. She rushed down the long spirally flight of stairs, nearly slipping on a cloth that had been left there, and came to the second floor. It was a narrow hall, running north and south, once richly adorned with ancient family tapestries, now barren. Her enemy was nowhere to be seen, even worse her Beloved was missing.

She retraced her steps, carefully studying the walls and floor as best she could in the dim light. She found the cloth that had nearly tripped her. There was no doubt in her mind that it had been left with that intent in mind. Aside from that cloth she found nothing. Her Beloved was nowhere to be seen. Words would have failed to described the hurricane of emotions thrashing inside her. She had always suspected the women he hired, but never before had one so openly harassed her.

Of course, there was nothing she could do without a weapon. She would have to go hungry and bladeless, at least until the festival. She went back to her room, locked the door, and opened the window again. The guards had finally taken their posts at the gate, and their was cook smoke trailing from the kitchen chimney, but the village was still fast asleep.  She turned from the window and walked over to her bed.  A relic from her childhood days. It was the only lavish thing she had, but now almost too small for her. She curled up on it and tried to remember her mother's sweet voice, and her father's loving eyes, but all that kept filling her mind was her step-fathers greedy looks, and the doe eyed girls infuriating laughter. She tossed over, and screamed her disgust, kicking at their intrusion. There was a knock at her door. She stopped and listened. Whoever it was knocked again.

“Who is it!?” Her voice was ugly with hate.

“Ariel dear, I found something of yours down at the bottom of the stairs.” It was her step-father, his voice was rich with mock civility.

Her heart leaped into her throat, it raced and raced, she didn’t reply. He had never come up to her room before. What if he could get in somehow? Where could she go? Out the window? She already knew she wasn’t stronger than him. The memory of how she learned that fact squirmed in her gut.

She slowly turned over, sat up, and stood to her feet.

He knocked again. “Ariel? Sweetheart. I KNOW you’re in there. Is your boyfriend there too?” He snickered, if was a nasty cruel sound.

She walked over to the window and looked out. How DID Nathaniel climb this wall anyway? The bricks were uneven, but the holds they provided looked much too thin to trust.

She heard a scraping sound, he must have been trying to pick the old lock to her door. It made her her whole body cringe to imagine that he might be using her Beloved to do it. She put her hands on the smooth stone of her window sill. Her heart was rushing so quickly she could barely think. Her stomach prickled and hollowed with fear. She turned around, and climbed backwards out the window sill, the same way she had seen Nathaniel do countless times. The guards below her were shouting something, but she couldn’t understand them, and she didn’t care. She lowered one foot, and found a firm foothold. She gripped the window seal so tightly the stone dug into her hands.

Now the other foot was out. One hand gripping the bottom lip of the windowsill. She reached, and reached about but all she could find was toe hold. Dare she trust it? She heard a loud eerie creek from her bedroom. She saw the door being pushed open. NO! She loosened one hand, and went for the nearest handhold she could find. Her footing slipped! Somehow she managed to hold on, but only be a few fingers on the lip of the window. Her feet searched desperately for ledge, her other hand joined it’s sister on the lip. It felt like eternity before she found a new foothold. Then another, then a new handhold. She was doing it, she was climbing downward, slowly and shaky with adrenaline. Her step-father’s head stuck out from the window, but she was just out of his reach. There was excitement in his eyes, like a hound watching his prey climb a tree.

Lower and lower she went, she looked down to see how far she had to go, and froze. It was too far. Her muscles burned. Her knees began to tremble violently. She tried to keep going but it was as though her body wouldn't listen. “MOVE!” She commanded herself. Nothing. “MOVE!” She screamed, and with a rush of will power struck her leg out in search of a new foothold, but it was no use. Her knees were shaking too badly. She felt sick, and angry. Never before had her body betrayed her like this. She clung to the wall the best she could. Her arm muscles felt swollen. Her fingers were stiff, and bleeding. She wondered how long they would hold. Then she heard something: heavy even breathing. She looked up, her uncle was gone. “Ariel,” Nathaniel’s voice said, he sounded like he was right below her. 

“I’m right here Ariel, it isn’t as far as it seems. You can do this.”

His words were like music, but they didn’t change the fact that she was near the brink of falling.

“No Nathaniel, you don’t understand. I really can’t, my legs won’t obey me anymore.”

“Listen to me. The longer you hang there the harder it’s going to be.” He climbed level with her. She peeked at him through clenched eyes. He was too far for her to reach out for him.

“I know you want to, but don’t grab on to me. You’ll get us both killed if you do. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Listen to me. You can do this.”

His encouragement was becoming annoying at this point.

“Nathan, you don’t understand!”

“Yes I do. Ariel, I need you to start climbing sideways. The main roof isn’t that far from here, but it’s on the other side of the tower. “ She hadn’t thought of that. “I will show you where to put your hands and feet.”

“Nathaniel! Why can’t you just save me! I’m sure you’re strong enough!” She clung tighter, her eyes were smashed shut.

“I am saving you. LOOK AT ME!” She looked. His face was kind, his eyes were confident. She didn’t understand it, but somehow, she did feel stronger.  

“Alright,” he said, “Put your foot there.” She hesitated, it looked too far. "Do it!" his voice was more commanding. She chanced it, and made it. He pointed to a foothold. She took it. He pointed to a handhold, she grabbed it. Step by step. It felt like the wall would never end, but finally she began to see the eves of the roof. It was just eye level with them.

He climbed up first, she scrambled and reached, he grabbed her hands, and pulled her up, very nearly slipping with both of them.

They wobbled as far away from the edge as they could and then they both lay belly up on the rooftop, trying to catch their breath.