All around me, the gnarled branches of oaken trees gently creaked to the first breeze of the day. Moss grew on every strip of bark, while roots larger than myself snaked perilously across what remained of the dirt lane.
Glancing up at the outline of so many leaves dancing within that perfect painting of a forest canopy, I caught snatches of sunlight winking down at me as the tips brushed past.
It was far different to the usual sight I saw from the warmth of my bedroom. My walls of forget-me-not blue were now competing shades of greens, browns and greys. It was a curious sensation, but I lacked the time to decide whether or not it was unpleasant. While this was my first taste of true air beneath a foliage sky, it was hindered by the very conspicuous smell of a rather sweaty horse.
When the first hint of dawn broke through this ceiling of leaves, I decided it was time to rest.
Apple was tired. He'd ridden throughout the night with infrequent breaks. And while he was never required to gallop, the rough country lanes were difficult to navigate for any horse, let alone one more used to traversing fields than unpaved roads cracked with dry dirt, pebbles and roots.
I assessed that we'd ridden far enough to evade any immediate pursuit, and having now chanced across a stream, hopped off to let Apple lower his head and enjoy the reward for his night's labour.
I was, all in all, exceptionally pleased with his performance. In fact, I was in a mood to offer him one of the emergency apple projectiles as a reward, too.
Or, well, 95% of it.
“Nom … om … don't look at me like that … aren't you aware that riding is hard for me, too?”
The horse whinnied in doubt.
It was true! The crunch of the apple in my mouth was the same sound my back made as I stretched. Frankly, it was a wonder that I still had any feeling left. Leather saddles were made for resilience, not comfort. Even so, this doesn't preclude them from having a closely woven double-thread silk pillow as a cushion. There was no reason why this saddle should be so sparse.
As I held my hand and allowed Apple to swallow up the fruit in one bite, a moment of hope ignited in me.
Of course!
I hadn't even checked all the saddlebags yet. How silly of me!
Hadn't that man tinkered with the provisions almost as long as he'd done with the bridle and saddle? Why, for a man personally earmarked to become an attendant at court, I would expect no less than to see all my amenities provided in full.
I opened the saddlebags all at once and peered through each of them in turn.
Disappointment came as sudden as my loss of appetite.
It was a mishmash of common foodstuffs. Breads and cheeses and fruits wrapped in linen, with little suggestion on how I should somehow turn this meagre snacking fare into a fulfilling three course meal. Where was the entrée and the dessert? The balance of sweet with spice and salt?
This bread wasn't even soft! It was as dark as seeds and firm to the touch.
In the other large bag were flasks of clear drinking water. A chaotic assortment of different skins, as though the barkeeper had poured what he could into whatever containers he had on hand.
I leaned in and sniffed.
Even amongst the scent of leather and a sweaty horse, I could detect the unmistakable whiff of alcohol. These flasks had once contained whatever common liquor he served to his clients. Or still did.
I shuddered.
Then, I peered into the smallest bag and gasped.
“This … This is … !”
Yes!
It was … I had no idea!
Blinking in puzzlement, I pulled out a bizarre piece of metal, almost like a flattened horse shoe. With it came bundles of straw and a large stone. There was also a map, crudely drawn on a single sheet of, again, linen. Not even parchment. Holding it up against the first rays of dawn, I was appalled to see that much of it burned straight into my eyes. I had to wince to even read anything!
And then there was the strange vial.
“This is … a potion?”
It contained a small amount of weak amber liquid. It could very well have passed for alcohol were it not in a distinctive potion's vial. The same type and colour carried by our physicians, used to heal our knights after an overzealous sparring session.
I was impressed. Even crudely made, a healing drought was expensive. That a barkeeper would possess one spoke highly of his foresight. Or perhaps the dangers of his trade. Drunken patrons were no doubt as dangerous wielding furniture as they did insults.
There was only one thing I confidently recognised.
Lastly in this assortment of items was a small pouch.
Within it was a modest array of copper and silver crowns, and one crown which may have been gold or copper depending on the light.
I frowned. It cost upwards of 250 gold crowns to smuggle each of my books into the Royal Villa, which I was assured was a fantastic price by the trader.
By that metric, this amount of coin was surely insufficient to afford a stay in any suitably furnished hotel. It was a troubling prospect if I chose to think about it, which I didn't, since right now, the most pressing concern was that these crowns were the very last things in the saddlebags.
There was no pillow!
I closed the saddlebags, devastated.
A shame. For all the barkeeper's work ethic, he'd forgotten to provide me with a pillow. It was that lack of detail which may very well rescind him his prospective job offer. If he couldn't be relied on to see to my personal riding comfort, then how could he be relied upon to serve the correct vintage of pinot gris with my wild goose?
Beside me, Apple whinnied again.
“Quite so! It's not about being a princess. It's about having standards. Honestly, how did you cope? Why, I bet he only fed you barley and oats. Would you like an acorn? We're surrounded by our choice of oaks. As you've performed meritoriously, I will do you the supreme honour of retrieving a handful of acorns for your consumption. You may now rejoice.”
I nodded at the horse. He responded to my royal charity by looking up from his stream, then whinnying again in ... discomfort?
I questioned him with a look of confusion. A moment later, the answer to his fidgeting was made abundantly clear.
It was an assault on both our senses.
A truly vile smell was carried downwind, overpowering even the effects of riding through the night. I covered my hand to my nose. And then did the same for Apple. Until he licked my hand.
As I dipped my hand into the cleansing stream, I wondered with concern if some creature had perished and their corpse been left to rot in these woodlands.
“Oi, oi, oi, take a look, boys! And I thought the only thing we'd catch today is the Boss's griping. We hit the jackpot!”
I peered up, then gasped.
I was right!
Emerging from the surrounding trees, a small group of armed men shambled out wearing what could only be the guise of walking corpses. They were covered in dirt from their hair to their boots, and carried their assortment of maces, clubs and axes with the discipline of children picking up a stick for the first time.
Oh no.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
These men, swaggering towards me with greasy smiles and greasier hair, donning weapons that were only fit for the hands of ruffians and vagabonds ...
They were just like that man who'd attempted extortion right beneath my window.
I was mortified. I'd made a huge error.
Why, I'd sentenced that one man to 100,000,000 bars of soap to use.
That was surely the entire kingdom's stock.
How in the world was I supposed to find enough soap for all of his friends, too?! We lacked the scale of production needed to scrub this much excess filth! Was I now required to traverse the continent, begging other kingdoms for all their toiletries like a pauper on my knees?
I rose from the stream and stepped away, repulsed by the overwhelming lack of hygiene approaching me.
“Lemmy, you ugly mook. Your face is scaring the lady here.”
“Rich coming from you, Sourface. You're so ugly the flies have stopped biting you.”
“Ain't no flies left. They died after looking at you.”
“Shuddup, morons. Lemmy, grab her before she bolts. Sourface, take the horse.”
“Aight, aight, just leave it to me. I got a way with the ladies, you see. Watch and learn a gentleman at work.”
Every fibre of my being wished to scarper for the nearest bathtub. But I couldn't leave Apple here. If he was so much as touched, then no amount of scrubbing would clear away whatever terrible stains was left behind.
“That'll be quite enough, thank you,” I said, holding up one palm while keeping the other to my nose. “I am merely passing through, and would appreciate that no unwanted advances be offered towards my person. Rest assured that I'll leave you to your forest vagrancy as soon as my steed is sufficiently able to gallop away from the perils of your stench.”
The group of men, now five in total, paused and looked at each other.
And then—
“Bwahahahahaha!!”
“See, Lemmy, I think she's talking about you!”
“Ahahahaha! We caught a big one, all right! No wonder, with a mouth that large!”
“Oi, no wonder the Boss hates you guys. You hear that? You all stink.”
“You stink the worst. Why you think we call you Brown Grapes?”
I opened my mouth in indignation.
The … The nerve of these men! They were unwashed and they were leering at me! That was worth three capital crimes! There was a clear time and place to look down on others! The sheer cheek on display! It was appalling.
And even worse, they started advancing on me again!
Whipping out my scowl, I placed my hand atop Starlight Grace. The ruby pommel flashed in the daylight, as though drawing on my ire.
The group of men stopped once more. This time, they remained still.
“Tch. Every noble girl carries swords on them these days, huh? Used to be we could just toss 'em over our shoulders.”
“Better for us. Easier to take than from someone who can use them.”
“Enough. You louts know the drill. Surround her and don't be the one who gets stabbed. Like Patches.”
“Yeah, don't be like Patches.”
“Man, even while that last girl was being ransomed, she looked smug. That was just embarrassing.”
I kept my hand around my sword hilt as I considered my options.
Being waylaid by common thugs was certainly one of the many situations I'd kicked into the wardrobe of things I chose not to think about. But I did that for a reason. It's because I was amazing. I didn't need to plan for jumping off a falling bridge. When the time came, I knew my legs would jump on their own accord.
In the same vein, I didn't need to plan for an attempted kidnapping.
After all, I knew that should it ever happen, I would respond by …
Hmm.
“Damn. She's really scowling something dark.”
“Yeah. Kinda giving me the creeps. Lemmy, go front. I'll go behind.”
“What? Sourface, it's your turn this time.”
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
“Fine, whatever. You guys owe me. Now follow behind and—”
I snapped my fingers. All five men caught themselves just as they began to move.
I had it! Of course. I knew what I needed to do in this type of situation.
I had a sword. But no swordsmanship skills. A problem when faced with an imminent fight for survival. But battles weren't decided on the battlefield. They were decided at the negotiating table.
And I happened to have extraordinary leverage.
“Very well … I'm willing to offer a generous exchange, provided that your horrific smell does not pursue me out of this forest.”
“Oh?”
Some of the men's eyes were drawn towards Apple's saddlebags. Some were drawn towards the ruby pommel of my sword. Some were drawn towards me.
All of them wore the same mocking smirk.
“Got something to offer, do ya? Go on. What'll it be? Don't worry, if it sounds good, we promise to be true to our word. We good men of the land never lie.”
I rolled my eyes. I doubted the well-dressed lords and the simpering ladies at court to be true to their words. And to their credit, I doubted bandits exactly the same amount.
In which case, I simply had to make an offer more enticing than anything they could extract from my person at this time.
“Allow me free passage from this forest, unhindered and unfollowed. In return, I vow to only sentence you to 10,000,000 bars of soap scrubbing, instead of the current precedent of 100,000,000 bars for similar offences.”
“............................”
The men looked utterly stunned.
I gritted my teeth, disappointed in myself. No doubt the offer was far more than they ever imagined.
It was outrageously generous. But no matter how much I considered it, there was simply no way to order, manufacture and stockpile the necessary number of soap bars should I have brought on a similar sentence to the man from last night.
It was almost a dereliction of justice. But compromise was ever a trademark of negotiation. And my priority was to reach the lowlands where I could begin understanding the extent of the crop failure.
“Oi, you sure love to joke, don't you? Wanna try that again? How about you offer what crowns you got instead? Or that fine sword of yours?”
“... No?”
I looked at the man who'd questioned me in confusion.
Naturally, I wasn't going to offer my crowns or my sword. Why would I? I needed them. More importantly, they didn't. Those imprisoned weren't permitted to carry crowns or weapons. Frankly, it was rather silly they'd even consider such a thing as possible.
Taking a reduction in soap scrubbing from 100,000,000 to 10,000,000 bars was a prison commute by a factor of ten. That was a far better trade for them than my meagre amount of possessions, hence why I'd offered it.
Far from jumping for joy, the men simply looked aghast. Only after exchanging looks of disbelief did their expressions harden, as though hearing a joke that had long since stopped to be humorous.
“Looks like we're in a mind to decline, I'm afraid. These are our woods, so if you're trespassing, you gotta pay the correct toll if you want to pass through. You or a rich father of yours.”
I could scarcely believe what I'd heard.
“Excuse me … ?”
Their woods?
A toll?
These weren't their woods. This was the property of the kingdom. And they had no lawful right to toll anybody's passage here.
In fact, if they meant to reside here, then they needed to pay their due tax. Had they been unlawfully collecting fees while not paying any?
This! This was exactly the reason why our finances were in disarray! Illegal tax collection and poor oversight of residency status in our domains!
Silent outrage and indignation swept through me. These men weren't just scoundrels. They were profiteering scoundrels. Every crown they made meant one less for the Royal Treasury. For my silken pillows and my feather bed.
“Now, how abouts we take you to the boss and—”
I stamped my foot and pointed at the nearest hooligan.
“Take me to your leader.”
All around me, the gnarled branches of oaken trees gently creaked to the first breeze of the day. Moss grew on every strip of bark, while roots larger than myself snaked perilously across what remained of the dirt lane.
Glancing up at the outline of so many leaves dancing within that perfect painting of a forest canopy, I caught snatches of sunlight winking down at me as the tips brushed past.
It was far different to the usual sight I saw from the warmth of my bedroom. My walls of forget-me-not blue were now competing shades of greens, browns and greys. It was a curious sensation, but I lacked the time to decide whether or not it was unpleasant. While this was my first taste of true air beneath a foliage sky, it was hindered by the very conspicuous smell of a rather sweaty horse.
When the first hint of dawn broke through this ceiling of leaves, I decided it was time to rest.
Apple was tired. He'd ridden throughout the night with infrequent breaks. And while he was never required to gallop, the rough country lanes were difficult to navigate for any horse, let alone one more used to traversing fields than unpaved roads cracked with dry dirt, pebbles and roots.
I assessed that we'd ridden far enough to evade any immediate pursuit, and having now chanced across a stream, hopped off to let Apple lower his head and enjoy the reward for his night's labour.
I was, all in all, exceptionally pleased with his performance. In fact, I was in a mood to offer him one of the emergency apple projectiles as a reward, too.
Or, well, 95% of it.
“Nom … om … don't look at me like that … aren't you aware that riding is hard for me, too?”
The horse whinnied in doubt.
It was true! The crunch of the apple in my mouth was the same sound my back made as I stretched. Frankly, it was a wonder that I still had any feeling left. Leather saddles were made for resilience, not comfort. Even so, this doesn't preclude them from having a closely woven double-thread silk pillow as a cushion. There was no reason why this saddle should be so sparse.
As I held my hand and allowed Apple to swallow up the fruit in one bite, a moment of hope ignited in me.
Of course!
I hadn't even checked all the saddlebags yet. How silly of me!
Hadn't that man tinkered with the provisions almost as long as he'd done with the bridle and saddle? Why, for a man personally earmarked to become an attendant at court, I would expect no less than to see all my amenities provided in full.
I opened the saddlebags all at once and peered through each of them in turn.
Disappointment came as sudden as my loss of appetite.
It was a mishmash of common foodstuffs. Breads and cheeses and fruits wrapped in linen, with little suggestion on how I should somehow turn this meagre snacking fare into a fulfilling three course meal. Where was the entrée and the dessert? The balance of sweet with spice and salt?
This bread wasn't even soft! It was as dark as seeds and firm to the touch.
In the other large bag were flasks of clear drinking water. A chaotic assortment of different skins, as though the barkeeper had poured what he could into whatever containers he had on hand.
I leaned in and sniffed.
Even amongst the scent of leather and a sweaty horse, I could detect the unmistakable whiff of alcohol. These flasks had once contained whatever common liquor he served to his clients. Or still did.
I shuddered.
Then, I peered into the smallest bag and gasped.
“This … This is … !”
Yes!
It was … I had no idea!
Blinking in puzzlement, I pulled out a bizarre piece of metal, almost like a flattened horse shoe. With it came bundles of straw and a large stone. There was also a map, crudely drawn on a single sheet of, again, linen. Not even parchment. Holding it up against the first rays of dawn, I was appalled to see that much of it burned straight into my eyes. I had to wince to even read anything!
And then there was the strange vial.
“This is … a potion?”
It contained a small amount of weak amber liquid. It could very well have passed for alcohol were it not in a distinctive potion's vial. The same type and colour carried by our physicians, used to heal our knights after an overzealous sparring session.
I was impressed. Even crudely made, a healing drought was expensive. That a barkeeper would possess one spoke highly of his foresight. Or perhaps the dangers of his trade. Drunken patrons were no doubt as dangerous wielding furniture as they did insults.
There was only one thing I confidently recognised.
Lastly in this assortment of items was a small pouch.
Within it was a modest array of copper and silver crowns, and one crown which may have been gold or copper depending on the light.
I frowned. It cost upwards of 250 gold crowns to smuggle each of my books into the Royal Villa, which I was assured was a fantastic price by the trader.
By that metric, this amount of coin was surely insufficient to afford a stay in any suitably furnished hotel. It was a troubling prospect if I chose to think about it, which I didn't, since right now, the most pressing concern was that these crowns were the very last things in the saddlebags.
There was no pillow!
I closed the saddlebags, devastated.
A shame. For all the barkeeper's work ethic, he'd forgotten to provide me with a pillow. It was that lack of detail which may very well rescind him his prospective job offer. If he couldn't be relied on to see to my personal riding comfort, then how could he be relied upon to serve the correct vintage of pinot gris with my wild goose?
Beside me, Apple whinnied again.
“Quite so! It's not about being a princess. It's about having standards. Honestly, how did you cope? Why, I bet he only fed you barley and oats. Would you like an acorn? We're surrounded by our choice of oaks. As you've performed meritoriously, I will do you the supreme honour of retrieving a handful of acorns for your consumption. You may now rejoice.”
I nodded at the horse. He responded to my royal charity by looking up from his stream, then whinnying again in ... discomfort?
I questioned him with a look of confusion. A moment later, the answer to his fidgeting was made abundantly clear.
It was an assault on both our senses.
A truly vile smell was carried downwind, overpowering even the effects of riding through the night. I covered my hand to my nose. And then did the same for Apple. Until he licked my hand.
As I dipped my hand into the cleansing stream, I wondered with concern if some creature had perished and their corpse been left to rot in these woodlands.
“Oi, oi, oi, take a look, boys! And I thought the only thing we'd catch today is the Boss's griping. We hit the jackpot!”
I peered up, then gasped.
I was right!
Emerging from the surrounding trees, a small group of armed men shambled out wearing what could only be the guise of walking corpses. They were covered in dirt from their hair to their boots, and carried their assortment of maces, clubs and axes with the discipline of children picking up a stick for the first time.
Oh no.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
These men, swaggering towards me with greasy smiles and greasier hair, donning weapons that were only fit for the hands of ruffians and vagabonds ...
They were just like that man who'd attempted extortion right beneath my window.
I was mortified. I'd made a huge error.
Why, I'd sentenced that one man to 100,000,000 bars of soap to use.
That was surely the entire kingdom's stock.
How in the world was I supposed to find enough soap for all of his friends, too?! We lacked the scale of production needed to scrub this much excess filth! Was I now required to traverse the continent, begging other kingdoms for all their toiletries like a pauper on my knees?
I rose from the stream and stepped away, repulsed by the overwhelming lack of hygiene approaching me.
“Lemmy, you ugly mook. Your face is scaring the lady here.”
“Rich coming from you, Sourface. You're so ugly the flies have stopped biting you.”
“Ain't no flies left. They died after looking at you.”
“Shuddup, morons. Lemmy, grab her before she bolts. Sourface, take the horse.”
“Aight, aight, just leave it to me. I got a way with the ladies, you see. Watch and learn a gentleman at work.”
Every fibre of my being wished to scarper for the nearest bathtub. But I couldn't leave Apple here. If he was so much as touched, then no amount of scrubbing would clear away whatever terrible stains was left behind.
“That'll be quite enough, thank you,” I said, holding up one palm while keeping the other to my nose. “I am merely passing through, and would appreciate that no unwanted advances be offered towards my person. Rest assured that I'll leave you to your forest vagrancy as soon as my steed is sufficiently able to gallop away from the perils of your stench.”
The group of men, now five in total, paused and looked at each other.
And then—
“Bwahahahahaha!!”
“See, Lemmy, I think she's talking about you!”
“Ahahahaha! We caught a big one, all right! No wonder, with a mouth that large!”
“Oi, no wonder the Boss hates you guys. You hear that? You all stink.”
“You stink the worst. Why you think we call you Brown Grapes?”
I opened my mouth in indignation.
The … The nerve of these men! They were unwashed and they were leering at me! That was worth three capital crimes! There was a clear time and place to look down on others! The sheer cheek on display! It was appalling.
And even worse, they started advancing on me again!
Whipping out my scowl, I placed my hand atop Starlight Grace. The ruby pommel flashed in the daylight, as though drawing on my ire.
The group of men stopped once more. This time, they remained still.
“Tch. Every noble girl carries swords on them these days, huh? Used to be we could just toss 'em over our shoulders.”
“Better for us. Easier to take than from someone who can use them.”
“Enough. You louts know the drill. Surround her and don't be the one who gets stabbed. Like Patches.”
“Yeah, don't be like Patches.”
“Man, even while that last girl was being ransomed, she looked smug. That was just embarrassing.”
I kept my hand around my sword hilt as I considered my options.
Being waylaid by common thugs was certainly one of the many situations I'd kicked into the wardrobe of things I chose not to think about. But I did that for a reason. It's because I was amazing. I didn't need to plan for jumping off a falling bridge. When the time came, I knew my legs would jump on their own accord.
In the same vein, I didn't need to plan for an attempted kidnapping.
After all, I knew that should it ever happen, I would respond by …
Hmm.
“Damn. She's really scowling something dark.”
“Yeah. Kinda giving me the creeps. Lemmy, go front. I'll go behind.”
“What? Sourface, it's your turn this time.”
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
“Fine, whatever. You guys owe me. Now follow behind and—”
I snapped my fingers. All five men caught themselves just as they began to move.
I had it! Of course. I knew what I needed to do in this type of situation.
I had a sword. But no swordsmanship skills. A problem when faced with an imminent fight for survival. But battles weren't decided on the battlefield. They were decided at the negotiating table.
And I happened to have extraordinary leverage.
“Very well … I'm willing to offer a generous exchange, provided that your horrific smell does not pursue me out of this forest.”
“Oh?”
Some of the men's eyes were drawn towards Apple's saddlebags. Some were drawn towards the ruby pommel of my sword. Some were drawn towards me.
All of them wore the same mocking smirk.
“Got something to offer, do ya? Go on. What'll it be? Don't worry, if it sounds good, we promise to be true to our word. We good men of the land never lie.”
I rolled my eyes. I doubted the well-dressed lords and the simpering ladies at court to be true to their words. And to their credit, I doubted bandits exactly the same amount.
In which case, I simply had to make an offer more enticing than anything they could extract from my person at this time.
“Allow me free passage from this forest, unhindered and unfollowed. In return, I vow to only sentence you to 10,000,000 bars of soap scrubbing, instead of the current precedent of 100,000,000 bars for similar offences.”
“............................”
The men looked utterly stunned.
I gritted my teeth, disappointed in myself. No doubt the offer was far more than they ever imagined.
It was outrageously generous. But no matter how much I considered it, there was simply no way to order, manufacture and stockpile the necessary number of soap bars should I have brought on a similar sentence to the man from last night.
It was almost a dereliction of justice. But compromise was ever a trademark of negotiation. And my priority was to reach the lowlands where I could begin understanding the extent of the crop failure.
“Oi, you sure love to joke, don't you? Wanna try that again? How about you offer what crowns you got instead? Or that fine sword of yours?”
“... No?”
I looked at the man who'd questioned me in confusion.
Naturally, I wasn't going to offer my crowns or my sword. Why would I? I needed them. More importantly, they didn't. Those imprisoned weren't permitted to carry crowns or weapons. Frankly, it was rather silly they'd even consider such a thing as possible.
Taking a reduction in soap scrubbing from 100,000,000 to 10,000,000 bars was a prison commute by a factor of ten. That was a far better trade for them than my meagre amount of possessions, hence why I'd offered it.
Far from jumping for joy, the men simply looked aghast. Only after exchanging looks of disbelief did their expressions harden, as though hearing a joke that had long since stopped to be humorous.
“Looks like we're in a mind to decline, I'm afraid. These are our woods, so if you're trespassing, you gotta pay the correct toll if you want to pass through. You or a rich father of yours.”
I could scarcely believe what I'd heard.
“Excuse me … ?”
Their woods?
A toll?
These weren't their woods. This was the property of the kingdom. And they had no lawful right to toll anybody's passage here.
In fact, if they meant to reside here, then they needed to pay their due tax. Had they been unlawfully collecting fees while not paying any?
This! This was exactly the reason why our finances were in disarray! Illegal tax collection and poor oversight of residency status in our domains!
Silent outrage and indignation swept through me. These men weren't just scoundrels. They were profiteering scoundrels. Every crown they made meant one less for the Royal Treasury. For my silken pillows and my feather bed.
“Now, how abouts we take you to the boss and—”
I stamped my foot and pointed at the nearest hooligan.
“Take me to your leader.”
