A Stolen Crown (16 page)

He ventured in through the door of the trading post and found an old man sitting inside, whittling a small piece of wood and spilling the shavings into a pail. He put his idle work aside and stepped up to help Aaron

“What can I do ye for, sonny?” he said, gumming a smile. The man barely had a tooth in his mouth. “Somethin to buy, somethin to sell?” Aaron shrugged, doing his best to appear disinterested, which was something Borrican had told him to do when dealing with merchants.

Despite his attempts at bargaining, the prices of goods were very high and Aaron was forced to spend the better part of his money to get provisions and arrange for two horses, which were equipped with old tack. The trader told him the war had driven up costs and that Aaron had just bought the last two horses available.

After leaving the horses with the stable boy at the inn, he set out to find some other items. Aaron soon found what he was looking for at another small shop. After some bargaining and a short wait, he paid and thanked the seamstress who had helped him and headed back to the inn, paper bundle under his arm.

He arrived back at the inn to find the innkeeper waiting for him, with a worried look on his face.

"You're back," the man said, nervously. "Very good. There's a bit of a problem with your missus upstairs."

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked the man, his hand flying to his sword. The innkeeper put his hand on Aaron's arm.

"No, not that kind of problem," he said. "Just come."

Aaron followed the man up the stairs and down the long wooden corridor to the back of the inn where the room was situated. He tried to open the door but found that it was locked.

"It's locked," Aaron told the innkeeper. The man pulled out his key.

"This is my master key and it will not work. Your wife has blocked the door from the inside, with a dresser, I believe."

"Katie?" Aaron called, using her false name. "It's me, Edward. Open up."

"No!" Ariana's response was shrill but clear. "Go away!"

"What's the problem?" Aaron asked through the door.

"Like you don't know," she said, and her voice was like what Aaron imagined a dying cat might sound like.

"I don't know," he told her. "Now open up!" Aaron pounded on the door then turned to the innkeeper. "What happened?"

"I don't know," the man said with an expression of incredulity. "Just after you left, I had some hot water brought up and an early supper, since your wife said she was hungry. She also asked if we had some basic things like soap, a brush and a mirror, so I sent those up as well. Everything seemed fine and then we heard a loud scream. It ws like someone was being murdered. I ran upstairs myself to see what was the matter and heard a commotion in the room, but the door was blocked. I knocked and asked if your wife was okay and she told me to go away. After that, she cried a lot. I tried talking to her through the door, but she wouldn't say anything else. I have a business to run and the tavern will be getting busy soon, so I couldn't stay here all night."

"It's okay. My wife, her sister died not too long ago and sometimes she gets emotional," Aaron lied. "I'm very sorry for the disturbance. Thank you for doing what you could."

"Should I have some supper brought up for you as well?"

"Yes, please," Aaron said, realizing how famished he was.

The innkeeper retreated down the hallway, leaving Aaron standing by the closed door to the room. He knocked again.

"Open the door," Aaron said again.

He reached out with his power, searching for Ariana's thoughts, hoping that he could touch her mind the way she had showed him. He found her thoughts, but they were closed to him, like a wall had been drawn around them. He tried again, harder this time, and he felt the familiar pain in his neck and his temples as he pushed, trying to get through. Finally, the pain was becoming too great for him and he had to stop. The effort left him reeling and Aaron was just about to sit down on the wooden floor of the hallway when he heard a deep scraping sound on the other side of the door. A few moments later the door opened.

Aaron entered the room to find somewhat in disarray. The bath basin was still half-filled with water, and from the dark, brackish look of it, Aaron figured that Ariana must have washed the whole winter's worth of grime from her all in one go. The princess' clothes they had managed to salvage from the few trunks that had fallen clear of the burning wagon were strewn about the room and Aaron noticed shards of glass on the floor. He bent over and picked up a piece and saw that it was not glass but pieces of a mirror. He looked around and saw that the blankets of the bed were bunched up in one area and he could see that they were moving. Ariana was underneath them.

"Ariana," he said, tentatively. "Are you okay?"

"No," she replied, her voice muffled from beneath the covers. Aaron walked over to the small table that was set against the wall and put the bundle he was carrying on it, then he sat down at one of the chairs.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Ariana did not respond. Aaron waited until she finally spoke.

"How can you ask what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Aaron asked. He was not sure, and the broken mirror had been something of a clue, but he did not want to say the wrong thing.

"How could you look at me?" she asked. "You didn't say anything about it."

"What should I have said?"

"Something," she replied, then pushed back the covers and sat up, looking at him through bleary, tear soaked eyes. "Anything! You could have said something! All that time, you never said a word, as though it was nothing!"

"What should I have said?" Aaron asked.

"I don't know," she said, then threw herself back against the pillow and began to cry. "I just don't know how you could have even looked at me."

"What do you mean? You're beautiful," he told her.

"I'm ugly," she said with a sob. "I'm hideous, deformed, ugly."

As much as Aaron was inexperienced where women were concerned, he did not have even the slightest idea about how to deal with a girl who was crying, especially when she was crying about something like this.

"That's ridiculous. It's just a scar and it doesn't look that bad." Aaron did his best to reassure her. He was surprised when the crying stopped.

Ariana sat up and looked at him, her eyes piercing him angrily through the tears. She gestured at the side of her face that bore long, ragged burn scars from the top of her cheekbone all the way to her jaw.

"This doesn't look bad? This looks bad, Aaron. If you ever wanted to know what looks bad, this is what it looks like!"

Ariana threw herself back on the pillows again, grabbed one of them and covered her face with it, resuming her crying. Aaron picked up the bundle he had bought for her and walked over to the bed.

"I got something for you," he said. Aaron put the bundle on the small table next to the bed and decided, since he only seemed to be making things worse, it might be best if he just let her cry.

Aaron spend the next while using the large basin and the rest of the clean water, washing the months of soot and grime off of himself. While they had melted snow in the cook pot every couple days to wash with, he had to admit that it was nice to finally feel really clean. He checked on the princess, wondering if perhaps her mood had improved, but she had fallen asleep. Not feeling particularly tired, Aaron took the plate of food the innkeeper had sent up and brought it back downstairs to the common room where he sat quietly at the bar, listening in on the various conversations, hoping to pick up some more information.

A while later, Aaron headed back upstairs to the room and did his best not to disturb Ariana as he slipped into bed. Despite his troubled thoughts from the things he had heard downstairs, he fell fast asleep. He awoke to find Ariana pacing the room, dressed and wearing the new green riding cloak he had purchased for her the day before. He also noticed that she had straightened up the room and repacked their belongings.

“Good morning,” Ariana said as he rose from the bed.

“Good morning,” he responded. “I see you've been busy.”

Ariana glanced around the room and gave him a sheepish look.

“Thank you for the new cloak, Aaron,” she said.

“Do you like it? It isn't anything special but I thought it might look nice on you.”

“It is very lovely, and practical as well.” Ariana especially liked the hood that she could pull up over her head and hide most of her face. She pursed her lips for a moment then sighed. “Aaron, I apologize for my behavior last night. It was not very ladylike and hardly befitting the rightful Queen of Maramyr, let alone a Crown Princess.”

“It's okay. You were upset and for good reason. I am sorry I didn't say anything to you about...”

“I'd rather not talk about it,” she said, cutting him off. “There is nothing I can do about it, so I'd rather focus on the bigger problems, like how to regain my kingdom.”

“That might prove a challenge,” Aaron said. "I spend some time in the tavern downstairs last night and learned a few things about what has been going on in Maramyr. It seems your uncle has offered a reward to anyone who can bring him the heads of those who were involved in your supposed murder.”

“He should take his own head,” Ariana said, bitterly.

“They have already hung several people for wearing clothes that had Kandaran colors, and even one woman. Apparently she was claiming to be you and saying that she had escaped her attackers.”

Ariana pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. She was appalled that more people should die on her account, or more precisely on account of her uncle's plot against her, but it seemed that her uncle had thought of everything.

“So, just in case I somehow managed to survive, Cerric has made it all but impossible for me to return, unless I return in force.”

“It gets worse,” he told her. “In return for this crime against Maramyr, Cerric has declared war on Kandara and has been mass recruiting new trainees for the army to ready for the attack. The groups of soldiers we saw on our way here are but the first arrivals of a major movement of troops preparing to move north through the mountain passes to Kandara. They plan to attack Kandara as soon as the roads are clear.”

“What about Borrican?” Ariana asked, worried that her friend might fallen victim to reprisals. “He was supposed to leave Maramyr just after we did.”

“Cerric put a price on his head, claiming that he was the one behind the plot. He probably escaped back to Kandara, since the reward is still being offered, but there is little news from north of the mountains since the winter snows blocked most of the roads, except that some scouting parties have gone missing, which Cerric has publicly denounced as acts of aggression by Kandara.”

“What?” Ariana was amazed at the nerve of her uncle. “So, my uncle builds up the army, all but declares war on Kandara then sends armed forces into Kandara and when they turn up missing he calls it an act of aggression. Who would believe such nonsense?”

“Everyone,” Aaron told her. “From what I could tell, no one even questions it. The soldiers here are on the way north to Rivergate and will attack through the main pass, but this is just a small contingent compared to the size of the main army Cerric has gathered. Another force from the Xallan army is also marching direct up along the eastern range to the main Kandaran Pass. I also overheard one man mention that Cerric has made an alliance with the Xallan Queen. It looks like it’s going to be an all out war.”

Ariana’s face reddened with her temper. She was angry that her uncle would do these things. That he tried to have her killed so he could take the throne for himself was bad enough, but forging an alliance with the Xallans and taking the kingdom to war was far worse. Maramyr had long been a peaceful land and the treaties her parents had forged with the neighboring kingdoms were supposed to guarantee the prosperity of all for many generations. Now, Cerric was destroying everything in some bid for even greater power and he was not even a true king in the first place.

“That bastard is going to pay for this. As far as I’m concerned, he is no longer my uncle! Oh, what I wouldn’t give just to have him sitting here right now.” She paced more furiously than before. Aaron noticed the candle flames heighten when she walked near them, glowing an angry orange.

“Ariana,” he said in a gentle tone, hoping to calm her. “What do you want to do? We can’t go back to Maramyr. We can try for Blue Island and ask the Priesthood to intervene, but from what I understand, they seem to be loyal to your uncle. And, with prices on people's heads and imposters being hung for pretending to be you, it is dangerous for anyone to know who you are right now. It might not be safe even here. What if you’re recognized by Cerric’s men?”

“Blue Island is out. I don't trust those priests. I didn't tell you this, but I never really intended to go there anyway. I met with Calthas just before we left and he told me there were rumors of other mages, independent of the priesthood. I had hoped to find them so I could be trained in magic and, so we could find a solution for the spell that is giving you such trouble.” Ariana paced back and forth, thinking for a moment. “I think we have to go south.”

“South?” Aaron pictured a map in his mind of the various lands that lay southward. From where they were now, it was a short ride up to Rivergate Keep, where the road split in various directions. One road ran west, leading to the coastal forests of the Western Sea, which was the way to Blue Island, long a refuge of mages but, according to Ariana, apparently under the control of the priesthood. To the north was Kandara, but there were bound to be countless soldiers and others loyal to Cerric already moving in that direction. The river, from which Rivergate Keep got its name, split into two forks at the keep. One part of the river dropped from a very high falls then flowed southwest into the Elven lands. The main branch of the river continued south from the keep, skirting part of the eastern reaches of Maramyr then spilling into the grassy plains and dry deserts where fearsome sword-wielding nomads called the Ansari were said to live. The river ran mostly in a southward to the coast, creating a natural border between the lands of the Ansari and the mysterious forests of the Elves, a people from whom no one had heard in years. Given that Ariana's mother was Elven, he suspected that she intended to travel to the lands of the Elves.