• Reign of False Kings
    Chapter Six: Trials of Nature



    The sounds of muttered words and pacing steps awoke the slumbering general. She moaned groggily and lifted her head in the direction the sounds were coming from. It hurt just to do that small move. Her body felt unbelievably sore and the longing for food had grown worse. It may have been a bad choice to deny Lucian's food, but she would rather starve then admit she was wrong.

    Aran was standing a short distance away from her, his knuckle perched between his teeth as he stared thoughtfully at the ground. The grass, as well as the top of Luca's head, was coated with a light frost. The royal looked up, the shivering red head catching his attention.

    "How is your leg," he asked flatly. She paused before looking down at the reddened material that covered the wound. It looked as if it had begun to bleed in the middle of the night, likely opened as she turned in her sleep.

    "It's fine.." She pulled herself into a sitting position, hand unconsciously clutching her stomach. "When do we leave?"

    "As soon as you are able to ride effectively." He moved over to his horse, pulling his sheathed sword from the package that laid beside the grazing mare. "I'm going to try and find us some game. Can you build a fire?"

    "I can ride effectively!" The teen protested. "I just don't want to sit around here idle!" She pushed herself from the ground and began to walk towards him. "If you must have a fire for you're little camp-out, then I'll make one."

    Aran ignored Luca's harsh words and she stormed past him, obviously trying to lessen the limp as she walked. Her pride will eventually cost her, he thought as he began to walk in the opposite direction. She would probably die before she admitted weakness. That seemed like a character more befitting a prince, didn't it? To be able to make decisions quickly and effectively. Again, Luca's question echoed through his mind. 'Do you you live for yourself or for your country?' He still wasn't sure he could answer her and wouldn't until he was absolutely sure of his reply and believed it himself.

    He pulled the blade from his scabbard and vanished into the trees.


    "I'm perfectly capable of doing things myself. I'm not helpless!"

    Luca shuffled through the woods, fuming as she picked up strips of wood and branches until her arms couldn't carry anymore. The prince wasn't there as she entered the clearing, but she didn't think anything of it. Gathering a few stones, she began to make a ring and began building her fire. Aran returned a short while after with a pale rabbit hanging by its leg from his grasp. He looked a little roughed up, dirt clinging to his pants and scratches on his chest, but he acted as if he were not.

    Aran sighed inwardly at the scowl that still lingered on the red head's face. He was somewhat used to his companion's moodiness, but it was still unpleasant to be the brunt of all her anger. As of right now she was silent. She sat close to the fire, rubbing her cold hands in an attempt to keep them warm. It seemed she had taken the cape from her armor, now using it as a blanket draped around her shoulders.

    The royal walked over towards the fire, using a spare stick to spear the rabbit and anchor it in the ground next to the dancing flames. The were both silent as the animal cooked, the flames searing off the hair and roasting the tender meat. The eventually split it and ate, Aran sneaking a majority of the meat into Luca's portion.

    "I can prove you wrong," Luca spoke, finally breaking the silence. "I can ride just fine. It's best if we keep moving anyway."

    "I did not mean to say you cannot ride well." He sighed, disposing of the last of the bones. "I was merely concerned for your injury."

    "Highness, we need to keep moving."

    Aran glanced over to the girl, curious to her abrupt change in personality. It was as if she finally realized barking orders at him wasn't working. He gave a glance around their camp. Other then the small fire they had brewing, it looked just as it had when they arrived. He pushed himself from the ground, absently brushing the dirt from his pants.

    "I have told you there is no point in calling me that. Plus if someone were to hear you we might arouse suspicion.." He heave a sigh and looked down to his hands. The golden bonds still lingered their, as if mocking him. "We won't be able to do much with these still on either."

    Luca looked down to her hands as well before trailing her gaze to Aran's sword which lay by the fire.

    "How good are you with that sword anyway?"

    Aran looked over to her, giving a shrug to her question. "I can defend myself."

    The general retrieved the blade, rising from the ground and holding it out for the royal to take. Aran took it, staring curiously before she held her arms outstretched before him.

    "And so help me if you miss..." She grumbled lightly.

    He paused for a moment before taking the blade in both hands, letting it tap the chain before raising it above his head. He brought it down but it failed to sever the chain, causing the red head to be jerked forward. She leered up at him.

    "What are you doing?" She pushed the blade back, moving her arms to their previous position. "You're going to have to swing a hell of a lot harder then that. Come on!"

    Aran scoffed, raising the blade above his head again and this time bringing it down with full force. The chain snapped and the blade dug into the ground in between Luca's feet. She breathed, staring at the metal still clamped onto her wrists. Sure, it wasn't completely gone. But with the length of chain gone it would no longer restrict her.

    "You're turn," she said, taking the blade from his hand. He held his arms out as she had but moved his gaze to the ground as she move the sword above her head. It came down swift and sliced the chain dead in half. Handing the sword back to him, she began to limp over to the stream. She filled her hands with water before tossing it onto the dying fire. A few times of this and pushing the ashes around with the stick and she seems pleased.

    "Let's get going."

    The royal nodded, approaching and then mounting the grey mare. Luca followed in suit, trying to ignore the stinging in her thigh. Aran yanked at the collar that still had a myriad of scars and scratches around it. He may be free of the restricting chains, but the collar still hung triumphantly about his neck. Luca spurred her stallion behind him and Aran moved his hands from the burning metal to the reigns.

    The trees grew father apart as they traveled and they eventually rode into a grassy field. On the other side a small village could be seen.

    "There," Luca pointed out a small building with a great amount of smoke rising from it's chimney. The prince nodded and dismounted, tying the reigns of his mare to a post nearby. The female general followed at a slower pace, relieved to be out of the cold air as soon as the heat from the smith's furnace hit her skin.

    A bit of sweat was dripping down the middle-aged man's face as he labored over the makings of an ax. He combed a hand through greying hair as the shaggy pair entered his building. He dropped his work into a tub of water and watch it hiss and steam before fishing it out again. He approached with a sigh, tossing his gloves aside.

    "What can I do ye two fer?"

    "We need these removed," Aran stated, lifting his cuffed hand near his neck so that both bindings were visible. "We are willing to pay to ensure your silence."

    The smith studied them. It would be silly to expect anything less then a questioning glance at a request like this. Thankfully, the man delved no further into their situation and merely retrieved his gloves. He waved for them to follow and lead them to the rear of the shop. He paused to select a few tools and motioned towards the anvil where he crafted his wares.

    "You first," he said, turning to Aran.

    The raven-haired teen nodded, kneeling down and placing his cuffed wrists on the anvil. There was an ear-splitting shriek of metal against metal as the shackles were filed and then eventually removed. But it was when he was asked to lay his head down that he hesitated. The heat of the fire now so close to his head filled him with apprehension and made beads of sweat form on his brow. As the smith raised his hammer, he clenched his eyes shut and prepared for the worst.

    After the first nerve shaking blow, however, the procedure wasn't so bad. Finally, there was a clatter as the collar slipped off and fell to the floor. Aran straighten, still a little shaken from the experience.

    "Should I toss this?" The smithy asked, holding the still fine looking collar. Even damaged, it would still probably fetch a fair price anywhere. Aran shook his head and retrieved the item before walking out the shop and into the cool air.

    Luca watched him leave before hefting a sigh and taking up the position of the boy before her. The heat from the fire felt almost soothing and the feeling it brought almost distracted her from the force of the blacksmith's hammer on the collar. It soon fell away and she lay there moments after, basking in the heat with her eyes closed.

    "...Miss?" Came the deep voice hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

    Luca jumped awake, pushing herself up so that she was kneeling on the floor. She shook her head and stood. "Fine," the teen answered curtly. "And you can keep the damned things."

    --

    Despite being back out in the cold air, the young general still felt warm. It had started to snow and yet her body felt like it was still near the furnace and her head dizzy. She snapped out of her daze as her companion approached carrying two new bundles. He handed her one and she immediately looked inside. Clothing was packed along with a tough loaf of bread and a canteen of water nestled near the bottom. She guess he had used the ornate collar to pay for these things.

    "Are you ready," he asked, already having dressed himself in a heavy shirt and coat and about to undo the mare's bonds.

    "Any ideas on where to do?" She slipped on the shirt that lay inside over her own tattered one, too eager to get moving then to bother putting on the pants as well.

    Aran shook his head. "No. I have no clue where we are so I have no way to determine a direction that we should head in." He had climbed on his horse, fingering the reigns absently as he gazed over their surroundings. With a bit of a scoff the young general hopped on her horse and began to ride opposite of the direction they had arrived. The royal merely followed, unable to object seeing as they were really guessing at this point.

    They rode for a long while, the snow picking up and turning into visible flurries. Aran rode at a safe distance behind his companion. He preferred to leave her alone whenever she was in a mood like this. It seemed as if she was finally ready to stop, though, slowing her steed and allowing it to graze as she hopped off.

    "Are you better now?" He asked, pulling his mare up beside her stallion.
    She leered at him over her shoulder before kneeling down by the small pond. She dipped her hands into the freezing water before tracing the damp digits through her wild, wind blown hair.

    "I'm freezing, my leg still aches, and we're lost in the wilderness of Geese." She turned back to him. "I'm peachy." She snorted, voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

    Even though she spoke of being cold, the general's face was flushed and her eyes looked heavy. The prince cast it aside though, rolling his eyes and moving to dismount but jerked back and fell hard unto the ground. The mare cried and moved frantically. Luca jumped up, immediately regretting it as she gripped her leg.

    Aran brought a shaky hand to his face. There was a cut running along his cheek that was beginning to brim with traces of blood. He looked behind him. Stuck in the trunk of a tree was an arrow.

    "Blast it, Kole. How do ye miss em when he's right there?"

    Matching eyes looked to the figures now coming from the brush. The group of people were standing a ways away from them, five ragged looking men and a woman. They were all wielding some sort of weapon (even if it be a blunt object) and the woman was dressed in aged leather armor.

    "Guess ye get a choice then, tresspassas." The woman leered at them, brushing her matted hair aside. "Ye can give us all ye goods er we'll run ye through." She snickered,"Seems fair enough, ye?"

    "Trespassers," Luca scoffed. Bandits. There were always a few rag-tag groups that infested the Outlands of Geese. She had been deployed to deal with a few of them in her time as a soldier and they always acted the same. "This land belongs to the Kingdom of Geese. Who are you to claim it?" She'd moved back towards her mount, hand resting on the bundle that held her sword. Aran had done the same, now up from the ground.

    The leader regarded them with an amused expression. "Oh, but this ain't ye Kingdom a Geese no more, kid. Dis is my kingdom. We don't take no orders from no royals here." She laughed as the red headed teen drew her weapon. "Ah, ye don't look big enough to hold tha sword much less use it!"

    The general uttered a low growl. She shifted her weight and stepped forward with her good leg, ready to advance. "That's it," she snarled, tightening her grip on the hilt. "Why don't we find out?"

    The bandit chieftain laughed again, drawing the ax that had been strapped to her back. "Heh, ye asked fer it shorty. We'll see how long ye last, eh?"

    Aran glanced over at his companion. The leader may be as good a warrior as she bragged to be, but there was no chance in his mind that she would be able to stand up to the both of them. He was worried, though, with the general's injured leg and what looked like the beginnings fever brimming in her features.

    The leader struck first, but the heavy weight of the ax gave enough time for Aran to whirl out of the way of the attack but still gaining a knick on his shoulder. Luca jumped into the fight and met her opponent's blade head on. The two weapons shrieked as they continuously clashed against one another before colliding together in a deadlock. The teen gritted her teeth and pressed harder, preparing for the moment when they would break apart.

    Luca's leg pulsed, the weight of both the leader and her massive ax bearing down on her smaller frame. She wouldn't give in. 'I am stronger!'

    They broke away and both struck again, hitting each other's bodies and both stumbling back. The chieftain looked down to where Luca had sliced through her armor, a small stream of blood flowing from her side. The red headed general stood ready, ignorant of the superficial cut on her chest. She stood at an angle, most of her weight on her uninjured leg.

    "Highness," she called to Aran beside her, nodding her head towards the bandit who was raising her weapon again. He nodded and circled as the general charged forward again.

    The chieftain brought up her ax as Luca brought down her sword, once again locking each other's blades. It wasn't until one of her men shouted behind her that she noticed the young prince. He swung at her, driving a deep gash into her arm. Her grip weakened, and Luca's sword plumitted into her neck. The blond woman made a gagging noise as she fell to the ground, blood dripping from her lips and gushing from her throat.

    Aran took a step back and glare are the remaining bandits. They looked upon the slaughtered corpse of their leader like frightened deer before turning tail and running as fast as their legs could carry them.

    "Such fragile bonds of loyalty," Aran murmured, wiping his blade clean before sheathing it.

    "Dammit. I could care...care less about those bastards' loyalty right now." The general had wrenched her blade from the woman's collarbone and was using it and a crutch to keep herself standing. Blood was stemming from the small wound on her arm and dripping onto the freshly fallen snow below. The wrapping around her leg had fallen, exposing the discolored wound caked with blood, dirt and pus. "The snow's picking up. We be...better hurry."

    The prince nodded. The snow had grown thick during their fight and now the windy grey sky loomed over head like an ill omen. He reached to help her towards her horse, but she shook him off and limped over herself. She mounted her steed with some difficulty, immediately wrapping her cape tightly around her body.

    "It's so cold. Damn it all..."

    Aran's mare almost echoed the red head's complaints, prancing around uncomfortably as she tried to find her footing in the new snow. He patted the side of her neck to calm her down.

    "We will need to find shelter soon, less we be caught in this weather," he spoke, turning towards the direction he had seen the bandits flee in. "They have someplace to go," he mused then turned back to Luca. "Surely you've done this before. What do you suggest?"

    "I had a map before, so we'll just have to pick and choose directions..." She urged her horse forward with the young prince on her tail.

    They rode like that for a time, nothing but trees and hills surrounding them. The prospect of shelter lead them on. Though the winds had grown stronger and with it harsh volleys of ice and snow. Luca's horse drew in deep, fast breaths in an effort to take as much oxygen in from the cold, stiff air as possible. Her black coat was now speckled with white snow. The rider suddenly grew limp, slumping over the stallion's neck. He stopped abruptly, unnerved by the sudden weight and stillness of his rider.

    Aran glanced over to his companion, a small hint of apprehension forming a lump in his throat.

    "Luca!" He shouted over the howling winds. When the general didn't answer, Aran jumped from his mount's back into the knee-deep snow. He waded over to the whining steed, leading his mare behind him. The prince reached up to the red head and pulled her over. Her face was extremely flush and her skin hot to the touch. She was breathing but only in shallow, slow heaves.

    He cursed, tearing off his jacket and wrapping it around the trembling general. The icy winds of winter cut into him as he picked the auburn-haired girl into his arms and waded back over to his horse, placing Luca over the saddle and going back for the steed.

    Once he had tired her horse to his own, Aran climbed back into his saddle behind Luca. The young general was propped up against his body, her head leaning into his chest. He wrapped his arms about her to grab the reins and dug his heels into the mare's side. She squealed and jumped forward, floundering in the deep snow. Lines of worry creased the boy's face. If they didn't find shelter soon they were both going to freeze to death.

    As if mocking their fate, the storm turned abruptly worse. The wind turned each snowflake into a tiny blade, stinging and blinding the desperate prince. As sheet after sheet of blinding snow was hurled at him, his fear worsened.

    "Stop!" he shouted to the storm, half aware of the sheer absurdity of his words. Though, whether it was his imagination or not he wasn't sure, the tempest seemed to have abated a tiny bit. Through the blizzard's rage he could discern a cavern just a ways away. Aran blinked. Either he was hallucinating or the Gods truly favored them this day.

    Not waiting to see which it was, the prince curled an arm around the unconscious Luca and urge his horse towards the cavern entrance. The instant they passed through the rocky entrance the blizzard unleashed it's full fury on the outside world.

    Still holding Luca in his arms, he dismounted and collapsed onto the ground. Exhaustion and pain racked every fiber of his being. He held the general close, praying to every god he knew that they would survive the night.