CHAPTER 19: The Hunt for the Princess - Part 2

  Keane stepped forward, too close on purpose until his chest touched the guard's. “Move aside! Do you realize you are in the presence of the Crown Princess of Arvane, the Grand Admiral of the mightiest naval force of the Inner Realm, Revionne Ilvamar?”

  “My apologies. May we know the nature of your visit–”

  “You dare talk back to me, HMM?” Keane loomed over the guard, a head taller. The guard's courage faltered and he stepped aside.

  After leaving the garden, they reached a dark open field. Keane stopped.

  “Admiral,” he said, bowing and placing his right palm over his left chest. “By your leave, I would like to disengage and procure horses from the barracks.”

  Revionne nodded.

  “Ignaz! Igmar!” Keane barked. “I’m not a stable boy to saddle horses for you. But this is an emergency and I need everyone, even if it's just you.”

  “We will always be by Princess's side. That is the purpose of our existence. We are more concerned that you might... 'get lost' while looking for horses and not return,” Igmar said.

  “I've heard that twins can feel what the other experiences. If I smash your face, will your brother also bruise? Saves me the effort.” Keane approached Igmar. With his tall and broad figure, every gesture seemed threatening. Ignaz moved closer to his brother.

  “Halt,” Revionne commanded. They all bowed at once. “Marquis Keane, you have my authorization to proceed.”

  As Keane separated towards the lights from the barracks windows, she and the others crossed the open field. Soon they reached the southern gate, the gate leading to the corridor connecting the palace and the city.

  However, demanding the guards to open the gate was different from ordering them to step aside. The gate captain came out from the gatehouse and bowed before her, but still refused to open the gate.

  “My apologies, but without written permission, we–”

  Ignaz interrupted. “A storm is coming in a few hours. The Princess cannot wait for written permission. If the Princess is deferred, will you take responsibility?”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The captain looked with pleading eyes. He bowed again, deeper, but his answer remained no.

  Ignaz glanced at Igmar. The message exchanged in their looks was obvious. Was force necessary? As envoys, she and her escorts had diplomatic immunity, but only as long as they did not violate it first.

  Before they could resolve this deadlock, a dozen armored soldiers from the direction of the palace arrived. Their leader stepped forward, bowed to her, then unrolled a scroll.

  The scroll was unrolled upright. Such upright, old-style writing was only used for documents bearing royal seals and decrees. It was not a good sign.

  “On behalf of the second prince of Isofea, Isfan van Jofiter, by the mandate of Isofean Kingdom, the following proclamation is hereby declared. To Lady Revionne Ilvamar of Arvane, Princess, Crown Princess, Grand Admiral: Owing to her involvement in grave transgressions, to be expounded upon in due course, and for valid and equitable grounds, she is hereby entreated to voluntarily place herself under the protection of prince Isfan van Jofiter. This decree is to be promptly executed.”

  The leader rolled up the scroll and bowed, extending his hand towards the palace. “Princess, please consent to return.”

  Igmar, Ignaz, and the three captains prepared to protect her. Yet they could do nothing when two soldiers approached her. Any small movement could be seen as a provocation, violating their diplomatic boundaries.

  However, the soldiers retracted their hands before touching her arm. She had just granted them the honor of meeting her gaze, reserved for when she intended to sink enemy ships and those aboard.

  “I presume you are not so backward as to be unaware of our Admiral's reputation?” Ignaz bluffed.

  Ignaz indeed knew her. He knew she was buying time waiting for Keane. Although neither he nor Igmar would ever be in accord with Keane, they did not doubt his promise.

  “What are you afraid of?” the leader said. “Seize her! Prince Isfan wants her!”

  And sure enough, from the direction of the barracks came the thunderous steps of dozens of horses. The large destriers from the royal stables burst from the darkness, charging through the Isofean soldiers who were too slow to dodge. The foremost destriers smashed open the southern gate, followed by the others.

  “Admiral!” Keane called from atop a destrier. He had not only freed the horses but also saddled several. Revionne grasped a horse’s mane and leaped onto its back.

  They galloped along the corridor towards the city. Rows of braziers on either side of the road cast their shadows like the spokes of a wheel.

  About halfway, a landslide blocked their path. Keane cursed, apologized, then galloped ahead of her to prove the landslide was jumpable. Revionne doubted his success, but joyous curses from the other side – she believed it was shriveled frozen sack! – proved otherwise. The rest of the entourage followed suit.

  The sky began to redden as the silhouette of the city's northern gate coalesced in the distance. They arrived before their pursuers could catch up.

  “Princess, please proceed with your horse. The Arcani shall attend to them for us.” As soon as Ignaz said this, figures in civilian clothes appeared behind each gate guard and knocked them out at the same time.

  An Arcanus opened the gate and bowed, hands cupped over his chest as she passed. Revionne and her escorts sped through the city, buildings blurring past like smudged ink.