A Path Toward Home (The Annals of Avonea) (12 page)

“Drinian, hand me your fathers sword,” Moolow commanded, and pressed the blue gem onto the handle, as it became a brilliant green. “Here, receive this gift and know that you are kind, wise, and a leader, who has taken charge on this perilous journey.”

“Thank you ever so much, I will treasure this forever,” Drinian replied bowing.

“Now that our business is finished, you must be on your way.”

The visitors quietly exited the room and began walking downstairs to the front door, where they said their farewells.

“Thank you so much, for my mother’s ring and for the clothing,” Constance said with a curtsy.

“You do not know how much these presents mean to me. May God bless you,” Drinian said bowing.

“I hope you will come to visit soon. Thank you for your hospitality,” Woodphere said, bowing.

“I am glad you are pleased with your gifts. Now a safe journey to all of you,” Moolow replied opening the door.

Constance, Woodphere, and Drinian stepped out the door and walked quietly away, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Woodphere, are we really going to Castle Melody?” Drinian asked, once Moolow Manor was no longer in sight.

“Why are you asking me, Your Majesty? It is your decision,” Woodphere replied.

“I want your advice. What would you do if you were in my situation?”

“You need to make the final decision, but I would choose to go by Castle Melody,” Woodphere replied as he led Dutch

“I agree, but what is your preference Constance?”

“Me? The most important thing is for me to return home. However, since only an hour has passed there, and Moolow did tell you to go to Castle Melody, I think that would be best,” Constance replied with a smile.

“Good!” Drinian exclaimed. “Woodphere which direction should we go next?”

Woodphere pulled the map from his satchel and handed it to Drinian.

“Your Majesty, first we will pass through the prairie where the Molter camps are. After that is the meadow which leads up to the castle. Remember Moolow’s words about Penella dropping the charges to kill you. I think we still should be cautious and dress in disguise.

“A very wise idea indeed, Woodphere,” Drinian replied.

“Does that mean we have to dress up like Molters?” Constance asked a frown coming across her brow.

“Yes.”

“Do I have to pierce my nose?”

“No, you do not need to pierce your nose, only make sure it is covered so they will not be suspicious,” Drinian replied.

“I don't have anything to cover my nose.”

“Do you have a scarf?”

“No.”

“That could be a problem,” Drinian sighed.

“She may wear my handkerchief,” Woodphere replied obligingly.

“But will it fit around her head? I doubt if it’s wide enough,” Drinian replied.

“Are you implying that I have a big head?” Constance asked, as she turned to Drinian with an eye-brow raised.

“No, I did not mean it that way.”

“No, Drinian, I know what you’re insinuating. You are saying that the whole world revolves around me, and all I think about is myself!”

“Constance that is not what I was saying at all!”

“I know, I like to get you stirred up,” Constance replied with a teasing smile.

“Ah, what will I ever do about you?”

“What do you mean by that?” Constance asked.

“Nothing! I think it better if I keep my mouth closed from now on,” Drinian replied putting his hand over his mouth.

Princess Penella

“So I am to go to a street merchant and buy clothes for you and Woodphere?” Constance asked Drinian as they walked.

“Indeed, but remember do not let them take advantage of you. They will drive the highest price, but do not go any more than five shillings per item. You will have to stand your ground,” Drinian replied as he strolled by her side.

“I can do that,” Constance replied with determination in her voice.

Soon they were in view of the Molter camp. Tents were spread about and people were moving around in every direction. “Drinian and I will remain in the woods so we are not seen. Here is the forty shillings, and remember, do not go any higher,” Woodphere said soberly, handing her a red pouch of coins.

“What's the matter, Drinian?” Constance asked, noticing his strange expression as Woodphere pulled out a white wrap and spread it across her face.

“Nothing! You look so different with only your blue eyes and long eyelashes showing. We can’t be too careful! Here, take my dagger with you too,” Drinian said handing her his weapon.

“Do you really think I need this?”

“Well, you seem to have a knack for getting into predicaments. I seem to recall you getting lost in the woods, and bitten by a snake, not to mention your encounters with Copper and Reagan!”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Constance smiled as she started walking toward the Molter camp.

“Do you think she'll be alright?” Drinian said, after Constance was out of earshot.

“Constance can take care of herself” Woodphere replied, easing himself to the ground.

“Do you feel I've been stepping in when she does not need rescuing?”

Woodphere did not reply.

“Do you think I was trying to impress her?”

“Do not ask me Your Majesty, ask yourself,” Woodphere replied.

“My only motive was keeping her safe.”

“Your Majesty, if I am not mistaken, you have feelings for Constance,” Woodphere said looking up at Drinian.

“Maybe I do” Drinian replied, staring at the ground. “But how could that happen in only two weeks?”

“It did with me, with Kathryn.”

“Was Kathryn as beautiful as Constance?”

“Indeed she was, and it’s astonishing how much they look alike.”

“When did you first realize that you had feelings for her?”

“After the snake bite I was so scared that I was going to lose her. I don't even know why I like her so much. She’s so stubborn sometimes, but she’s brave, smart, and beautiful too!

“Why wouldn’t you like her? Those characteristics are very attractive in a woman,” Woodphere replied.

“I’m sure she thinks I am a stuck up selfish Prince.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Your Majesty. I’m sure she care for you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Drinian sighed as he sank to the ground beside Woodphere.

***************

Meanwhile, Constance cautiously entered the camp and soon spotted a merchant. “Hello, I would like to buy some clothing, please,” Constance said, as she approached a middle aged merchant with a pointed beard.

“What is to your liking?” The merchant asked, directing her to the women's clothing.

“I will take a red face veil, but show me what you have in men's clothing too.”

The garments were Molter style, made of high quality material with bright and vivid colors. “I will buy two white shirts, two black trousers and the veil please,” Constance requested.

“Alright, here's the deal. Ten shillings for trousers, eight shillings per shirt, and six shillings for the veil,” the merchant replied.

“No, I will give you five shillings per item.”

“I will give you the trousers for eight, the shirts for six, and the veil for five.”

“I'll take the veil, but nothing else unless you come down to five.”

 The merchant gave Constance the veil, but something caught his eye.

“I will give you anything you want of my merchandise, if you give me that pretty jewel that's on your belt.”

“No, I can't part with this precious gift. Either come down to five shillings or I'll go somewhere else.”

“No! Do not do that, I will give you what you want. Here!” said the merchant handing Constance the clothing and seizing her money.

“Thank you! It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Constance replied, as she picked up her purchase.

Suddenly Constance heard a loud cry near the outskirts of the camp. Stopping, she glanced over to see a mother holding her young daughter. Curiously, a man stood beside them with a large needle in one hand, and a ring in the other. The mother was trying to calm the child, but she only screamed louder.

“May I ask what are you doing?” Constance asked as she marched up to them.

“You have two eyes, use them. We’re getting ready to pierce her nose,” the man replied sternly.

“But she's only a little girl, you can't do that.”

“And why not? Her sister got her nose pierced when she was only one! And why are you interfering? Don’t you have your nose pierced under that veil?”

“It's not about me, it’s about this child. Please, don't you see that she’s frightened and doesn't want you to do it?”

“Of course she wants it, but she's scared of the needle,” the man replied.

“Please wait until she can make up her own mind,” Constance begged.

“It is easier when she's young! Now may I continue?” The man asked looking down at the child’s mother.

The woman looked somberly at her little daughter who sat whimpering on her lap.

“Martina, do not listen to that girl! She doesn’t know what she's talking about! I have been piercing noses longer than I can even remember.”

“Lars, this young lady is right. Let us wait until she is five, and then she will want it done.”

A frown suddenly came across the man’s brow as he stomped off, kicking up dust.

“Thank you for understanding,” Constance spoke with a soft voice

“No, thank you, for helping me make the right choice,” the woman replied.

Constance smiled at the little girl and was continuing on her way, when without warning she was jostled and shoved by men who were frantically clearing the street!

“What is going on?” Constance shouted at an older man who was rushing by.

“Princesses Penella is coming! Now get out of the road or you will be trampled!” ordered the man.

Constance quickly stepped from the street and gawked as a litter came into view. “Out of the streets for the Princess, the daughter of King Taybayeere has come!” shouted a short man as he walked in front of the procession with a horn at his side.

A smug, proud looking young woman sat perched on the litter. She was dressed in red silk, and was covered in jewelry of gold and diamonds. Her brown hair hung long over her shoulders. As the litter came to a stop, the princess stepped down onto a platform in front of her. She appeared very sober, as she looked over the silent crowd and began to speak.

“People of Moltavia, I have come here today to you to tell you of my new proclamation!” she said her voice high and rich. I have revoked the charge of killing the blood relation of King Simian. Therefore, Molters shall no longer seek the blood of Prince Drinian. Eight years have passed since my father’s death; may he rest in peace. I believe Prince Drinian, if he’s even alive, has suffered long enough for his father killing our own precious king.”

What would the princess do if she knew that Drinian was not a mile away?
Constance wondered.

“Why should we give up!” yelled a man from the crowd.

“Why should he be excused from his father's murder of our king!” shouted another man.

“If he's not killed, he may plan an attack on us and our families!” cried a women.

“Silence!” shouted the princess’ servant.

“My dear people, what I have said I have said. You will not change my mind. But, take comfort and don’t worry about a thing. That foolish Prince Drinian is not going to destroy you!

“Now as for you young single women who are under five and twenty, and are older than six and ten. You shall come with me to the castle!” Princess Penella finished, with a sneer on her face.

With that, Princess Penella stepped back onto the litter and watched as her servants began snatching young ladies from the crowd. “Why is she taking them?” Constance asked the old man beside her.

“Princess Penella is taking them back to her castle, where she will beautify them for three months, and have them married to her advisers and soldiers. Princess Penella comes every year and gets five new girls; it is a great honor to them. You should know this already?” The man replied giving her a quizzical look.

“I'm only passing through with a small group.”

“Of course, I should have known. You have the sound of a native tongue.”

“Excuse me?”

“I imagine that your under five and twenty and are older than six and ten. I bet you wish you could go and find a handsome soldier to marry. Or you may even get lucky and marry an adviser.”

“No thank you,” Constance replied.

Nearby a servant grabbed a young woman who was screaming frantically. “Please, no, I don’t want to go. I love another! Adreile, help me!”

“Porsha! No, let her go! We are to be married in two months!” yelled a young man rushing to the young women's side. The servant did not listen, but struck him a severe blow to the head with his gold walking stick! The youth toppled to the ground and lie still.

“How could you do that you horrible, horrible monster! I'm never going with you; I'd rather be dead than be separated from my beloved Adreile!” Porsha screamed.

“Stop! Let me talk to my daughter, before you take her Your Majesty,” said a man, raising his voice over the crowd.

 Princess Penella nodded her head, “Say what you must, but make it short!”

“Porsha, remember it is a great honor and privilege to go with Princess Penella. Now I will hear no more of your screaming, or I will be ashamed to call you my daughter,” the man said sternly.

Constance could not believe what she was hearing. How could a father do that to his own daughter!
Something must be done about it
! She struggled to get through the crowd. Finally breaking free, she sped up the hill to where Drinian and Woodphere awaited her.

“Constance what is wrong?” Drinian asked, as he stood and met Constance as she reached the top of the hill.

“Drinian, you must stop them at once!” Constance exclaimed in between breaths.

“Whatever is the matter, stop who?”

“Princess Penella! She's down at the Molter camp taking girls from their families and loved ones. They are to be married to complete strangers! One girl was even engaged and they took her from her fiancé! He tried to stop them, but the servant knocked him down! Please Drinian we have to stop Princess Penella!”