The Dracones

Low to the cold, smooth stone, I move as silent as death. My booted feet make no noise while my mask smothers all evidence of my breathing. Shadows hide my hooded figure as I hug the wall, one hand gripping the knife around my calf. Not six feet in front of me lies King Rylarth. He’s in a deep slumber, his snoring giving testimony to that.

Deep violet sheets mostly cover the king and his sleeping mistress. She’s sixteen. I can hear her trying to stifle her crying. It’s enough to make me wince when a round of horrifying images try to invade my strict mind. Quickly, I push them away and skate alongside the wall. I avoid tables. They’re covered in liquor bottles and cups. Just the slightest unexplained bump will alert the guards to my presence. A thick red carpet lines the floor. It hides a trap door and several blood stains from his last mistress who had gotten pregnant.

I suppress a horrified shudder and move along the darkened walls. The King’s bulging belly is shiny from sweat and is sagging on the mattress; as if trying to eat it. My mind has the audacity of trying to picture the King in bed. I bite my tongue, trying not to gag. Why brain? Eventually, I get to the hard wooden desk that is next to the disgusting man. I quietly open it and take his very heavy coin purse. I tuck it down my tight, unforgiving shirt; to minimize sound. Deciding to be a bit more mischievous, I take his necklaces and rings.

Completing the first half of my mission, I roll under the heavy bed. I narrowly avoid the chamber pot and move the the-mercifully-empty thing to the corner of the bed. I roll out on the other side and come out standing on crouched legs; bringing me face to face with a beaten girl. Her dark ebony skin and angelic face make it easy to see why the King was drawn to her. Another part is her heritage. Princess Mytheena. Engaged to the soon-to-be High King Derrick Bronznic; a fair-skinned man, whose beauty runs parallel to hers.

She opens her black eyes, widening them as she takes me in. Quick as a snake, I quickly cover her mouth with my gloved hand, while my bare hand rests its pointer finger against my lips; urging her to be quiet. I shake my head at her when I feel her lips part. Immediately she furrows her brow. I pull out a blue butterfly clip from my pocket and hold it out for her to see. Quick as she can, she snatches it from me, before cradling it against her chest.

Slowly, I take my hand from her mouth and motion for her to come beside me. She looks over her shoulder as she slides off the bed; checking to see if her tormentor is going to notice her absence. I hold up a finger and dig through a pouch that has been sewn into my clothes. Hurriedly, I pull out a kidnapping note and a dead rat. Mytheena eyes me cautiously as I take the knife from my boot, while I lay the note on the desk with the rat on top. Deftly, I stab the knife through the rat and note, attaching both to the desk.

While she stares at me in confusion I start moving. Instantly Mytheena follows with less than a step between us, leaving me no room to make an error. I move her to the open window before slowly standing to scan the grounds. Guards are walking around the yard, looking nowhere in deadened gazes. They find this boring. I don’t blame them. There hasn’t been a successful break-in for ten years now. That they know of.

I motion at her to follow my lead and grab hold of the ivy-covered wooden fence, before starting my descent. By hiding in the ivy, we’re able to follow it to the garden it leads to below without being seen. With Mytheena’s hesitation and clumsiness, it takes us five minutes to make it down. What also slowed us down was that we had to be slow enough to avoid catching the attention of archers not twenty yards away from us. Mytheena makes it down a few moments after me, leaving me to seek refuge in the ivy and time to scan ahead. Her slowness was a blessing at that moment. It gave me enough of a warning, that I was able to yank her into the pile of ivy as the guards neared us; making their rounds. As soon as they’ve passed, I snatch her out of our hiding spot, and keep her hunched down low to the ground, as we continue our escape. We stick to the walls and the shadows they create; her untrained feet making noise on every little thing possible. I wince at every stick she clumsily breaks.

By some miracle, we make it to the canal unseen. This is when Mytheena starts to hesitate. I have to pull her into the water. It was like trying to drag a horse into water. She resists the entire time, but some sheer force kept her from yanking me back and knocking us both on our asses. Freezing water grips our feet, slowly dragging us both in with what feels like invisible hands. Only my mind keeps me from turning back. The only thing keeping the princess from turning back is what waits for her, and my iron grip on her trembling hand.

Eventually, my breathing becomes restricted. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest and the longer I stay in the water the heavier they get. We hug the side of the canal as far as we can but eventually, our time runs up. “We need to go under,” I tell her when we get to the low bridge.

She shakes her head at me. “I can’t. I’m afraid I lack your ability, my good sir.”

I nearly groan. “Look at me Mytheena. You have the will. You’ve survived being held by the bandit King Rylarth for two weeks. You’ve earned your right to move on with your life and be happy. You have the strength to do it.”

She starts shaking her head. “I can’t. I can’t. I don’t know how to swim.”

This time I groan. I get behind her and put one arm around her waist. “Just do as I do, and don’t fight me.” Once she takes a deep breath, I push her under, quickly following myself. She kicks as she feels my legs brushing against hers. Through the murky water, she can just make out me cutting through the water, propelling us forward with my hand. It doesn’t take her long to mimic me. That’s good. Practically all that I am carrying is weighing me down, and so is she. My muscles are working twice as hard as they should, which is never good when swimming in frigid water.

I keep us swimming after we clear the tunnel. Eventually, I let go of her waist and she just holds onto my shirt. Once we round the bend, I bring us up for air. I can’t keep us silent as sharp gasps of air evacuate our lungs, before quickly refilling themselves without command. I pull her hand and head to the shore.

Once on the ground, I give her no time to rest. I pull her with me and head straight to the trees. Following the smell of smoke, we race through the woods. The moonlight is giving us just enough lighting to see the trees ahead of us. Mytheena keeps tripping over unseen roots, so I quickly grab hold of her hand and make her follow behind me.

About ten minutes later the view of a black Clydesdale comes into view. “Miny!” I call out to the horse as a warm smile spreads across my face and through my body. Immediately Mytheena pulls back on my arm but follows anyway. The horse starts heading toward me as soon as she heard me call her.

When we emerge through the woods, bringing us to a small makeshift camp, Ivan is on his feet. His golden hair glows a faint red in the firelight while his charcoal eyes warm at the sight of me. His brown boots remain silent as he walks toward me to give me a hug in greeting. I accept as my face connects with his hard breast. He then squeezes my head into his chest.

I pull back. “Okay, we get it.” I snap at him. “You’re taller.” I grin at him when my wet body impression on him makes him grimace.

“Why are you wet?” He demands as he pulls the fabric from his chest.

“Plan B went out the window as fast as A,” I reply as I giggle. “Margrette failed to cause a distraction in the town. She-”

“Met a boy,” he says with me. “As always.”

I laugh. “Well, she’s only sixteen. They’re always on her mind. Give her time Ivan. She’s young.”

“You’re eighteen and never made that mistake Kit. You’re just as young as she is.”

“Yes, but I was raised in this profession,” I argue back. “If I recall correctly, you were as bad as she was when you discovered how to use that stick of yours.”

His eyes widen, “Name once.”

I grin. “Irene. Masie. Gwen. Quinn.”

“Hey, he/she looked amazing,” he says grinning. Then he catches sight of Mytheena. “Who is this?”

“Princess Mytheena,” I say as I pull her closer to the fire.

He pales, “Princess? You were just supposed to steal Rylarth’s coin. He’ll know it was us that took her.”

I shake my head. “I used the trademark of the Rats and left the ransom note. He’ll blame them since he isn’t that bright. Besides, her betrothed contacted our head and is paying me to retrieve her.”

“Derrick?” Mytheena asks as her eyes brighten. “Derrick is the reason I am being rescued?”

I flash her an excited smile. “Yes. He’s meeting us later tonight. First, we need to change or we’re going to get swarmed by bandits.” I move to the fire as Ivan demands to know what is wrong with me.

“Nothing I assure you,” I tell him while I remove my hood.

“I’m sure this is going to bite us on the ass.” He mutters as he starts worrying. “He’ll find out.”

I snort, “Rylarth? You must be joking.” I pull off my clothed mask, revealing part of my face.

“Not Rylarth. He couldn’t figure out a torch from a stick. Tristan, he’s the leader of the Rats.”

I curse as I remove the scarf around my face. “I hadn’t thought of that, but I doubt he’ll know it was me. No one, other than the Wolves, knows I exist. I’m thought dead by most, and a myth by others. Besides, he’ll like the reputation of breaking into Fort Ulrin and taking Rylarth’s beloved prize right from under his nose.” I pull my long hair out of its braided restrictive bun. “Now let’s get moving,” I say to Ivan while Miny comes over to me.

Since I allow my hair to remain in a braid, it appears drier than what it is. I pull off the suit as I use Miny as a shield. I have no time for modesty. I dig through my pouch and pull out a green peasant dress. I toss it to Mytheena. She eyes Ivan a little nervously but comes to stand next to me. I put on a deep blue peasant dress and pull out a brown corset. I lace it up and tie it at the end, tucking the string behind the corset.

Mytheena copies me as I pull on a pair of brown boots that cut off at my knee. I lace them up; completely covering the knives they hide beneath. I ball up my wet clothes, and hers, and stuff them in my saddle.

I look at Mytheena. “If anyone asks, you’re our adopted daughter. Your parents were killed in a fire. You’ve been with us for five years. Your name is Yolanda. We’re from the Southern District.”

She nods, accepting my order. “Who are you?”

“My friends call me Kit,” I say to avoid risking more. “If anyone asks who rescued you, it was Ivan. You never, ever, mention who I am.” I tell her sternly. “Is that clear?”

Hesitantly she nods, “But why?”

“It helps if people don’t know who the real savior is. That way I remain thought of as an innocent little girl, while Ivan-who is already known in our group-takes the credit. By doing this, I have less of a hit out on my head.”

She nods in understanding. “I can understand that, but if I have need of you in the future?”

“Contact a member from our group,” I say simply. “Now we must be moving. Ivan is starting to whistle, which means he’s worried.” I laugh when Ivan immediately stops and give him a wink; easing him some. Ivan goes into the woods and retrieves his horse, a graying Morgan named Nixie, and a russet Paint.

“Gayle!” Mytheena calls. She holds onto the horse’s snout as Gayle lifts her off the ground.

Ivan grins. “Now I know why we had the extra horse.”

I wink at him. “Mount her,” I say to Mytheena while I get on Miny and Ivan kicks out the fire. Once we’re all on the horses we walk out slowly. On the road, we kick it up to full speed, with me leading the way.

About a half hour later, I pull off and hide in the trees; so I am obscured enough to be hidden, but still able to see them and intervene if they need help. Ivan takes Gayle’s reins when he gets on the ground; responding to the sound of approaching men. Not five minutes later a man in a dark cloak, with three men flanking him, approached on horseback. The middle one is easy enough to identify. He has an enormous amount of jewelry on his hand and wears a cloak made from bear. This is definitely Prince Derrick.

“Derrick!” Mytheena cries, but Ivan holds her back. A bit confused, I cock my head as I look at the scene. Usually, he lets the rescues go back to their family. With that thought, and my sights on my mark, I take a bow off my saddle and ready it with an arrow. Once I pull the bowstring back, Derrick is within three feet of Ivan.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Derrick removes his hood. Black hair shines brightly against his moonlit fair skin. He’s scrawny, but I can see the potential of upcoming muscle. He’s going to be a heart breaker when he’s older.

It’s not Derrick that has Ivan hesitating. It’s the men flanking him. Upon closer inspection-and what had made me draw my bow-I can only see a hawk crest on two of the men’s chests; the crest for Derrick’s kingdom. The third holds none, but the ring placed on his right index finger is an engraved coyote. That is the crest for the Trix. Their thing is to steal from other groups, pocketing the original group’s profit as well. Their rivals are the Purveyors, their crest is a stag. I wonder if they’re here tonight as well.

Once I see a lip twitch from the Trix, I raise my bow; ready to stake my claim. As always, I had made sure the arrow I am using is our trademark blue ones; making it clear this was our kill. That is, if I have need to fire.

“Thank you for returning my betrothed,” Derrick says as he flashes a grin to Ivan. He holds out a hand. It trembles slightly. Ivan grins and grips his forearm as Derrick does his. I see Ivan tap his pointer finger three times on Derrick’s forearm. I get ready.

They let go. “How did you do it?” Derrick asks as Mytheena becomes quite uneasy.

Ivan chuckles. “Secrets are meant to remain untold young one. It was quite the challenge I assure you.”

“Was she harmed? By you I mean.”

He shakes his head. “No sir. I guarantee that I did not harm a hair on her little head. Now if everything is to your satisfaction, I’ll gladly accept my payment.”

Derrick nods, returning to a more business sense in body language and tone, “but of course.” He reaches into his cloak and pulls out a bag the size of a fully grown man’s palm. He tosses it to Ivan with little hesitation. Ivan opens it and nods as he finds the correct payment. Right then, the Trix pulls out a knife and leans in to reach for Derrick’s head; exposing part of his back to me. I release the arrow. It burrows into the back of the Trix member. He falls off his horse as Derrick’s guards reach for their weapons.

“Whoa!” Ivan says quickly when one points their sword at him. “I swear it wasn’t directed toward anyone of you.”

“How can we believe you?” Derrick demands as he eyes him skeptically.

“Because that man was about to use you to get what he wanted, Prince Derrick. He’s a Coyote; a member of the Trix. Here, I’ll show you.”

“No.” The man pointing the sword at Ivan says. “Have your companion reveal himself.”

I roll my eyes as Ivan chuckles. “She’s not a man laddy, but I will get her.” I sigh and draw another arrow. I step out of the woods slowly, Miny sluggishly trailing behind me. Immediately all five heads turn toward me. The man I had shot is on the ground, unconscious but still alive.

“Lower your weapons,” I say to them, my bow trained on the man with the sword.

The burly guy hesitates but lowers his weapon slowly. “And who are you?”

“Master Ivan’s hand,” I say as I lower my weapon as well. It takes all I can to stop from gagging on acidic slush as I say that while Ivan grins.

The man with the sword looks me over, “How about a change in handlers?”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry Sir, but Master Ivan holds my contract. It is up to him if he should sell me.”

The man looks at Ivan now, “How about it?”

Ivan shakes his head. “She’s been with my family since she was young. I couldn’t part with her.”

The man shakes his head, “Such a waste for a good shot.”

“Please sir,” I say quickly as I bend at my knees. I raise the Coyote’s hand and reveal his crested ring. “This is how we knew he wasn’t with your company. I did not intend to harm you or your Prince.”

Derrick nods. “I believe her. Now let’s get out of here before Rylarth’s men catch up to us.” Ivan lets go of Gayle’s reins and heads toward Nixie.

Derrick looks at me. “Before you go, may I ask your name?”

“Kit,” I say to him as Ivan gets on Nixie. I do a backup run to Miny. I touch her ear once on top, sending her straight into a full-speed run.