Young Writers Society

Rana flipped her blankets back and crawled out of bed. She walked to the window and pushed the curtains aside. The town below her was mostly dark, all of the townspeople already asleep for the night. It was perfect. She turned back to her chest and rummaged through it until she found the trousers and tunic she’d snuck into her luggage when Itani wasn’t looking.

She changed into them as quickly as she could. She found herself slightly off balance, her body still weak from the abuse and lack of food. But nothing could dampen the determination to help the man’s wife. She stood and pinned her cloak around her shoulders, then grabbed the small dagger that Denton gave her.

She fastened both the dagger and the change purse to her belt, then quickly scanned her eyes around the room. She glared at the platter of food on the table in the corner. She walked to it, frustrated by how well Synakrein was maintaining his ruse.

Feel better soon, my princess.

- Synakrein

Rana felt sick at the note left next to the rolls and fruit. She grabbed it and crumpled it into a little ball, throwing it carelessly towards the trash can. She was desperate for food, but she didn’t have to tolerate his passive taunting. She scarfed down one of the rolls and a handful of grapes, then turned back towards her bed.

She wadded her night clothes up and piled them under her blanket, making it look like she was still in the bed. She grabbed another roll and slipped out of her room, into the darkened hallway. She walked swiftly but carefully.

All the lessons Denton gave her on how to walk without making noise were paying off. She maneuvered her way through the halls, avoiding the few night guards that patrolled. Before a quarter of an hour passed, she’d made her way out of the palace without being seen.

She pulled her cloak over her head and made her way for the stream she’d seen near the south side of the city when she’d gone into town. She didn’t know how she was going to make it to the serf village without being seen, but she figured the river was her best bet.

Rana followed the stream until the city wall was in sight. She crouched under a tree next to the stream bank and watched the night guard patrol the walls, counting how long it took the guards to go from one end of their post to the other. By her count she had a thirty second window to sprint the hundred meters that separated the tree from the wall.

She waited until the guard turned to go the other way, then took a deep breath and ran as fast as she could for the wall. She slid to a stop just before she struck it, and then stepped into the stream as quietly as she could manage. She crouched down and slid under the wall, until she got to the grate that ran from the bottom of the wall to the bottom of the river bed.

Rana sat panting for a long minute, trying to catch her breath. Her arms were trembling, though from the exertion or the fear of being discovered, she wasn’t sure. She turned her attention to the newest barrier in front of her, kneeling in the cold water that sloshed past her.

She put her hands on one of the bars and pushed as hard as she could, but they didn’t budge even a little. She put her shoulder against the bar and tried again but was met with the same results as before. Of course, you idiot, she thought. The gate is meant for security. You’re not going to be able to bend the bars.

She slipped her hand under the water felt for the bottom of the bars, hoping to dig space out from under it. She growled in frustration as her hand met a concrete surface, not the gravel she’d hoped would be there. Rana pressed her forehead against the bar, hopelessness settling in her stomach once again.

Her forehead slipped on the algae growing on the bar, making it slide between the bars. She jerked her head up, startled at the sudden change, then looked at the bars again. They were close together — much too close for a grown man to slide through — but maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to manage it.

She turned towards the left and stretched her arm and shoulder between the bars that were furthest from each other. She turned her head and moved it through the bars next, then struggled to pull her chest and abdomen through after her. She wiggled through, inch by inch, until she emerged on the far side. She looked back at the bar, surprised and delighted with herself. There was no time to lose.

Rana crept back to her hands and knees and crawled until she was just out from under the wall. She looked up until she saw the guard heading towards his post on the other end of the wall, and then made a break for the stand of trees a few hundred meters from where she stood.

One, two, three, she counted mentally as she ran, keeping track of how long she had before the guard would see her. She put her head down and pumped her arms, her wet cloak slapping her legs. She bunched it up in her arms and kept running. Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight , she threw herself to the ground.

She pressed herself flat along the ground and turned to look at the wall. The outside of the city was considerably darker than the inside had been, and she doubted they could see her. Sure enough, the guard didn’t so much as hesitate to look at where she laid.

Rana waited until the guard was making his second pass with a turned back, then sprang up and ran the rest of the way to the woods. She paused to catch her breath, then cut across the corner of the dark woods and dropped down into the path that led to the serf village.

The night was starting to give her the creeps. Her plan didn’t seem nearly so taxing while she devised it, but now that she was actually standing in the dark, she was having second thoughts. Her trousers and cloak were soaked, making her cold. The woods moaned and hissed with the creatures of the night. And the moon was just barely strong enough to light her path.

Rana walked cautiously at first, checking over her shoulder to be sure she wasn’t being followed. But after she walked around the first few bends, she figured she was far enough away she didn’t have to worry about the city guards hearing her.

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, wondering how far she had to walk until the serf village — and how she was possibly going to find the right woman in the middle of the night. Or how she was going to explain why she was there if she did manage to find her, if the lady didn’t speak any more Algnesian than her husband did.

Rana nearly screamed when two dark figures suddenly jumped squarely in her path. She stumbled backwards, instinctively ripping the dagger from its case and clutching it in front of her chest as she fearfully looked at the men in front of her.

“Ho, sir,” the shorter of the men began, striding forward. “Your purse looks mighty fat. Let me help you get that down to a healthier size.”

Rana looked over her shoulder once more, wondering if the guards would be able to hear if she screamed for help. She didn’t want to imagine what Synakrein or Father would have to say if she was discovered, but she doubted it would be worse than facing bandits.

“Don’t even think about running,” the taller man threatened, misunderstanding her glance.

She swallowed hard and stumbled backwards. Running was probably her best bet, at this point. The bandits could easily kill her before help could arrive, even if the guards managed to hear her cries for help.

“We might let you live, if you don’t make us work too hard to get that gold of yours.”

Might. That wasn’t reassuring. Rana wondered if they could actually see her change purse. In the darkness she couldn’t tell much about the men at all. The first man was about the size of Denton — taller than her and with broader shoulders, but not hardly a man to consider large.

The other man was a mountain. He was tall and broad shouldered, and even his dark outline made him look muscular and intimidating.

“I… I can’t,” she answered. Her arms were trembling, but her resolve was strong. These bandits didn’t need this money any more than she did. There was one person alone who deserved the coins in her purse, and that was the wife of the man she’d met in the dungeons.

“Hah, it’s just a little lad,” the shorter man mocked. “Does your pap know you’re out this late, boy?”

“I… no,” Rana stammered, trying to lower her voice. “I mean yes… not exactly. He’ll come looking for me, though, if I don’t return.”

“What good will that do you?” the larger man asked threateningly. “Won’t help you much, for him to find your body in the ditch tomorrow morning.”

Rana gasped and took another step backward. The man chuckled menacingly. The smaller man looked between his companion and Rana in silence for a moment, then spoke again. “Why are you out this late, anyhow? Don’t you know it’s not safe? You could run into bandits.”

Rana stepped back again, looking between them fearfully as they chuckled at their own joke. She shouldn’t have come. For once in her life, she wished she would’ve heeded her Father’s warnings and not made a foolish decision. She glanced behind her, wondering how much of a chance she stood if she tried running.

“No, don’t do that,” the smaller man, stepping forward to close the distance between them. “Don’t even think about doing that. Just answer the question.”

“I… heard of a man being tortured for stealing from the Prince to feed his family,” she answered, wishing she was anywhere but there in that moment. “I was trying to bring relief to his wife.”

There was a tense silence between them. Rana wondered if telling the truth was the best choice she could have made. Maybe she should have invented a tale. It was hard to say what might get back to Father or Synakrein. She needed to be careful.

“Who are you?” the smaller man demanded.

“A no one.”

“A no one with the courage to defy the prince, and a purse to match the size of his heart.”

“Just so,” Rana answered, wetting her lips fearfully.

“Fine. I won’t press for a name,” the man answered. “But whoever you are, you shouldn’t be out wandering around by your lonesome. With the way that dagger is wobbling around, you’d be hard pressed to make it find a mark if you did need to use it.”

Rana flushed, embarrassed at his veiled insult. She looked at her hand. It was visibly trembling. She clutched it for dear life but knew that he was probably right. She was too afraid to use it. If Fae was there, she’d do anything to protect her. But Rana always hesitated when it was just herself that needed protection.

“Go ahead and hand the gold over.”

“No.”

“We will give it to his wife,” the shorter man assured her. “Promise.”

“I don’t believe you,” Rana answered.

“Well, the way I see it, you ain’t got much choice but to trust us,” the larger man said. “Would you rather hand over the gold with the promise that we’ll pass it along, or have us beat you over the head with a rock and take it anyway?”

Rana took a step backward.

“Ah, ah,” the shorter man chastised. “None of that.”

“No third option?” Rana asked, her voice squeaking in fear. She cleared her throat, forcing her voice deeper once more. “I’d rather take it myself.”

“How will you find the right house?” the shorter man questioned, putting his hand up to stop the larger man from stepping closer to Rana. “For that matter, how will you even know if you’re in the right village? And how will you make it back to wherever you belong, before someone notices you’re missing?”

“I…”

“We are taking the gold, one way or another,” the large man cut in. “Don’t make us hurt you.”

Rana hesitated for a moment. She didn’t see much of an option. There was no chance she’d be able to take on two grown men on a good day, and certainly not in her weakened state. She could barely beat Jaerek, and he was only half-grown and playing with her. She didn’t want them to hurt her.

“So… if I give you the gold, you’ll let me go?”

“Just so,” the shorter man said.

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he said sarcastically.

Rana reached her free hand down to her belt and carefully untied the purse. She looked between the men, still not trusting a word they said. She doubted the woman would ever see a coin of this money — but she didn’t have much choice. She could believe what they said and walk away hoping they actually took the money to her. Or she could fight and have it taken from her anyway.

May as well buy my safety, she thought. She took a deep breath and then threw the purse towards the shorter man. The instant it left her hands, she whirled around and ran as fast as she could. She rounded the first bend.

“We’re not gonna chase you,” the large man yelled after her.

She didn’t slow down.