Ascension (20 page)

"But wouldn't the generals be
suspect of all the men suddenly coming in from no where?" Croxley
asked.

"Good point," Erik
concurred.

"I have an idea," I ventured. "What
if they don't show up to the actual army? What if we position a
false army in the opposite direction, sending them instructions
that would keep them busy outside of Ahrenia? Tell them they are
preparing the way for an important mission of some
kind."

"What would we have them
do?"

"Have them pave
roads or something! Anything that will keep them occupied and
unaware of what's really going on,
”
I
offered.

"That just might work," Prince Erik
considered. "I could write some letters for verification's sake,
and we could use them to perform some much-needed handiwork around
the country. Kill two birds with one stone!"

"Precisely! And then, once we get
the guards out, we can have the colonies group together. How many
are there again, Croxley?"

"There are 7 total. Two in the
north, one in the south, and two on either side of Stonewall." In
the dirt, Croxley drew a map of Ahrenia, with Stonewall in the
middle. Around it, he drew the colonies. To my surprise, Cethin was
the closest to the royal city, on the western side. The northern
colonies were in the mountains, while the eastern colonies were
more spread out. Two were along the western coast, while another
was directly south of Stonewall. That must be where Jean is from, I
thought to myself. The northernmost colony was almost on the border
between Ahrenia and Ludendorf, so we decided that Croxley should go
there first.

"This is where the guards feel the
most pressure from the Ludendorf conflict, so it would probably
help to start there. Once we get the troops assembled, we can send
them to repair a bridge that fell a few years back, telling them it
is part of the invasion plan. The bridge is located a few miles
north of the colony, so they will be out of the way when I guide
Nethers to this colony," Croxley said, circling Cethin. "This
should be the best meeting point. My only question now is, once we
get them there, what are we going to do? What good will any of this
do in regards to earning your people their freedom?" Both Croxley
and the Prince looked at me expectantly, and I flailed for an
answer.

“
I…
don't know. I
was hoping that if we could get enough of us together, we could all
just ask the King. With so many of us, how could he
refuse?"

"Easily." Surprisingly, it was
Prince Erik who shot me down, not Croxley. "My father has no regard
for Nethers. He often complains that you absorb more resources than
you put out. I fear that, by gathering everyone in one place, you
are setting them up for an easy slaughter. If you want to get
something accomplished, you'll have to take it by force. That is
the only language my father seems to speak."

"Surely you're
not suggesting an attack on your own kingdom,
”
Croxley panicked, concern written all over his
face.

"Of course not. I am the Prince of
Ahrenia. If I acted against my father, I would be branded a
traitor, and the people would throw me out. But I can't say that
violence won't occur. Should things develop into that, it would be
because of my father's stubbornness, not because of any treason on
my part."

"If we have a
chief from every colony come into the castle and demand an
audience, it would appear very poor on his part to ignore
them,
”
Croxley offered.

"Well, we can only hope." Prince
Erik stood up from the fountain and clapped his hands together.
"Anyhow, all this planning has made me hungry enough to eat a
horse. Shall we go out for lunch?"

"Horse!" I
exclaimed, jumping up into a standing position, receiving a
peculiar look from Crowley and the Prince.
“I
’
ve been dying to see Elena, Sir
Thunder, and Sam! I miss Heath as well. He is bound to be worrying
about me. Could we stop by them afterwards?
”

“
And get your
gown all tattered?
”
Croxley
admonished.

“
I
’
ll be careful, I
promise!
”
I assembled my face into an
expression I had seen Conor pull on his mother whenever he was
being disciplined, making my eyes wider and pouting my lip just a
bit. Aware of the low cut of my dress, I even went as far as to
gently squeeze my breasts together. I cringed inwardly at my
shameless behavior, but I couldn
’
t help it. I needed the peace
that the horses always brought to me after all that had happened
today.

Erik slung his
arm around Croxley
’
s shoulders, graciously exclaiming,
“
I don’
t see why not!
Let
’
s get
going, then.
”

Ξ

After a rich lunch at one of the
nearby inns, we headed over to the stables. On the way, we picked
up a bag of apples and small tin sugar cubes, which Erik proceeded
to munch on the whole way there.

"Hey, leave some for the horses!" I
chastened, my excitement building with every step. When we finally
got there, I ran into the stables and straight down to Elana,
standing as regal as ever. After brushing her down, I moved onto
Sir Thunder, and then Sam. When Croxley and Prince Erik came
wandering in, I was bouncing back and forth between the horses,
trying to give them all equal amounts of attention.

"Look at her! She
looks like she
’
s about to sprout a third arm," Croxley joked, leaning in
to feed Sir Thunder an apple.

"If it
isn
’
t Miss
Fara!" Heath boomed, emerging from one of the stalls. He quickly
walked up to me, wiping his hands on his pants before pulling me up
off the ground and into a hug.

"You had me
worried! You just up and went missing for days! I
couldn
’
t help
but suspect the worst. It always seems to happen to the girls they
send me sooner or later.
·

"Thanks Heath,
nice to see you too,
”
I choked out, his
crushing embrace squeezing the air out of me. "But could you let me
go? I can
’
t
really breathe.
”

“
Oh, sorry
las.
”
Heath cleared his throat and
gruffly set me down, patting me on the head. I smiled at this
gentle giant. "What's got you dressed up so nice and
proper?"

"Heath, you're never gonna believe
what happened."

“
I
’
m sure I can guess. Either way,
forget I asked. I don't want to know. The less I know, the less
trouble it causes me." I understood what he meant. It seems like I
kept getting myself deeper and deeper into trouble here with every
new thing I find out. But do I regret it? I can't say I
do.

We spent the rest of the evening in
the stables. Heath made us a fire to sit around and we helped
ourselves to some stew, laughing over our meal and relaxing in each
other's company. As much as it was comforting, it also made me a
bit homesick. The scene was far too similar, reminding me of the
bland meals we used to share around our small fire pit, our curtain
held open for any neighbor to come in and make themselves at home.
I missed Conor, with his smart remarks and his endless mischief. I
missed his strong mother, who disciplined with a hard hand, but
loved with an even softer heart.

Most of all, I missed my parents.
The way my mother would braid my hair on top of my head to show my
number. I ran my fingers along my neck, feeling the raised scar of
the numbers 923. Its as much a part of me as my real name, my
family, and my life underground as Faradene. It sever as a reminder
of what I came up here to do. And now, I thought, I'm actually
doing something. I'm planning with the Prince, of all people, to
liberate not only my family, but anyone who has been condemned to
live underground.

I can only hope that our plan will
work.

We bade goodnight to Heath and the
horses and made our way back to the castle. But when we got to the
main road, we ran into a large group of people blocking the street.
There was a loud clamor in the group, and they all seemed to be
watching something.

"What are they all looking at?" I
asked, having to raise my voice over the crowd. Croxley looked just
as confused as I felt, but when we looked to the Prince, we noticed
that he looked troubled. Before we could ask him what was wrong, he
shot off into the crowd, just as a group of guards pushed through
on the other side.

"You, Messenger," one of the guards
approached us. "Do you know where the Prince is?"

"Why? What's going on?" asked
Croxley.

"Her highness is here, Princess
Lena. The Prince's bride-to-be."

Chapter
20

So that's why he was so keen on
keeping himself busy yesterday. Princess Lena was coming, I thought
to myself as I scrubbed my clothes clean the next morning. After
Croxley pointed the guards in the opposite direction of the Prince,
we forced our way through the crowd to the front, where we had a
perfect view of the Princess's caravan. I have to admit, she knows
how make an impressive entrance. Each of her wagons, and I lost
track after the first 6, were led by white horses, their ropes
embellished with rubies and sapphires. The carriages were trimmed
with gold, and the woodwork was adorned with intricate carvings.
The final carriage had a window in the back, through which you
could faintly make out its precious cargo, Princess Lena. From what
I could tell, she had long, dark hair, thick, pouty red lips, a
soft nose, and a slender neck.

She was beautiful.

The rest of the day, I couldn't get
her face out of my head. Or, rather, I couldn't get her face next
to Erik's face out of my head. I know he said that he couldn't
stand her, but now that she was here...

I convinced
myself that the only reason I was I concerned about Princess Lena's
arrival was because I was worried about her finding out about the
plan from Prince Erik. Not to mention that now it
’
ll be a lot harder to talk to
him, what with her hanging on his arm.

I beat the images out of my head as
I attacked a particularly stubborn stain in my gown. Tonight, there
is supposed to an official welcome feast in honor of her arrival,
and all of the servants have to work the kitchen and dining hall,
which means I have to dawn my pale blue uniform once again. As much
as I hate to admit it, I was growing fond of the fine fabrics
Mathelda was dressing me in.

Oh well, I thought to myself, at
least I'll be able to spend some time with Jean and the other
girls. We had both been assigned serving duty, so we would be able
to talk in between meals. From what Jean told me this morning, the
rich love to eat. Their appetites are inexhaustible, which means
that we will constantly be running between the kitchen and the
dining room to replenish the exorbitant amount of food at the
feast.

"They eat themselves sick," Jean had
said earlier when she was explaining it to me. "And if they haven't
eaten themselves to the point of explosion, the wine will do it. It
's absolutely horrendous! Here we are, our families starving in the
tunnels, living off of bland roots and vegetables, while they are
up here, wasting food like it grows on trees." With that, I gave
her a look, and she sighed and rolled her eyes at me. "Oh, you know
what I mean!"

Despite her complaints, I found
myself eager for the night to begin, excited to see all the dishes
that the cooks would come up with. The best thing I have eaten
since coming to Ahrenia is still the meal that Croxley and I shared
at the inn before reaching the castle, but I was sure that this
food would be of much better quality. Imagining different plates
and tastes in my head, I finished scrubbing my dress and hung it
near the hearth to dry, not in the least enthusiastic about my dull
breakfast of gruel.

!

"Do people actually eat this?" I
gaped in disbelief after we returned from bringing in the third
round of dishes. So far, there has been cow stomach filled with
poultry giblets, fermented chicks served in little egg cups, and
what looked to be a stew of snails and mushrooms.

So much for delicious
meals.

"Honestly, if this is what they are
eating all day, I say let them have it. I'll stick to my gruel,
thanks." I told Jean.

“
I would hold
your tongue until you see the desert. Usually there are leftovers,
so we can sneak a few plates at the end. By then, most of the
kitchen is drunk from all the wine they 'taste' before they send it
out, so it shouldn
’
t be too hard."

Out of all the jobs and errands I've
had to do since coming to the castle, I would have to say that
dining duty was at the top of my list, second only to working the
stables. As it turns out, royals love to gossip over food, so I've
been able to pick up quite a few rumors over the last three meals.
Most of it was trivial hearsay, such as the news that Sir Button
had taken up a new sport known as tennis, or that a new style of
headpieces were coming into fashion, or, most commonly, who seemed
to end up in whose bed. But occasionally I passed by two bent heads
discussing political matters, such as the increasing tension at
Ahrenia's southern border.