Coming of a Princess

    She was violently awoken from a sweet dream to a nightmare of a reality. Arabelle looked up to see her nursemaid bending over her, fear apparent in her eyes. Before Arabelle could say a word, she was drug to her feet.

“Come along, miss. We must get you to safety.” The short, yet very strong, nursemaid drug Arabelle to one of the hidden servant’s doors.

“Marsha? What is going on, Marsha? Where are you taking me? What do you mean ‘safety’? Marsha, is my father alright?” Arabelle allowed Marsha to push her through the servant door and down the cold steps that would take them to the kitchen in the back of the castle.

“Your father is fine, miss. He is safely away from all this. He left earlier this morning for a meeting with a Duke. There are assassins here now, being that your father is absent and you are vulnerable. Your father had thought this would happen, so he readied the guards and gave us servants specific instructions.” Marsha stopped and peeped into the large kitchen. After she saw that the cost was clear, she hurried Arabelle out to the horse stables. When they arrived, the stable boy had a large Nordanner mare saddled and ready to go.

“Miss.” The stable boy lowered his head before stepping to the side. Arabelle received a better view of this magnificent horse that stood before her. She was black with overo markings on her sides. Her face was white except for the dark portions around her ice blue eyes. The mare snorted and drug Arabelle back to the situation she was in. The stable boy aided Arabelle as she mounted the mare.

“Now, you know where you are going, correct?” Marsha’s eyes were filled with worry and tears. Arabelle couldn’t speak, so she only nodded. Marsha nodded back and removed a chain from her neck. She handed it to Arabelle. The chain was Marsha’s most prized possession. Arabelle placed the chain around her throat with tears streaming down her cheeks.

    In the far distance, yells and screams could be heard. Marsha’s fear grew more evident as a stream of fire could be seen rising out of the castle windows. Glass shattered and cries could be heard, moving closer.

    “Go, child. Push that mare as fast as she can go, don’t look back, and I will bring you home when it is safe. Go, child! Go!” Marsha smacked the flank of the mare and they were off. Arabelle looked over her shoulder. Marsha was watching her as she rode away. As Arabelle had been watching, an arrow sliced through the sky and into Marsha’s throat. Blood spattered and Marsha drowned in her own blood.

    Arabelle pulled the mare to a stop, “MARSHA!” Tears streamed down Arabelle’s cheeks more freely, but she remembered how scared Marsha had been. She turned the mare back on course and pushed her hard.

    Large hooves thundered down the quiet city streets. The mare breathed heavily but was otherwise silent. Apparently this mare knew that there was danger and that it was her job to keep the princess safe. Arabelle almost lost her balance as the mare jumped over the creek, just outside the city gate. Before long, the mare was galloping down a barely traveled forest road.

    The horse’s movement was constant and lulling. Soon, Arabelle had drifted off, her sadness and shock taking over her mind. The mare could sense this and changed her lope to make the ride more comfortable for the sleeping princess.

    She dreamed. Dreamed of her father. Dreamed of her Marsha. She dreamed of the sea as a small boat was gently rocked by the ways. Arabelle was sitting in this small boat, it’s brown-red wood smelling of cedar. Her father was there, going off into a long story about the farmlands and the lives of all the good citizens around him.

    Marsha was also there. She was quietly humming her hymns as she prepared a tasty treat for Arabelle. The smell of strawberries and sweet bread mixed with the salty smell of the ocean. Arabelle breathed it all in and closed her eyes. She was content to stay here forever.

    When she opened her eyes, it was a different story altogether, Marsha lay in the bottom of the boat, an arrow protruding from her throat. Her father was nowhere to be seen and the sea no longer smelt inviting. The water was red as blood and smelt of death and decay. A large ring of fire crackled and popped around the small boat, which was being rocked roughly. Arabelle looked over the side of the boat to look for a means of escape. As she looked over, a hand reached up and grabbed a hold of her hair, yanking her down.

    Arabelle screamed as she awoke, causing the mare to jump slightly. It was dark, but dawn was approaching. Looking around, she noticed that this mare had made a large sweep of ground while she was asleep. She would soon be to her uncle’s, and hopefully, to safety.

    The mare obtained another burst of speed, and Arabelle felt herself clinging the the short mane of this mare. Her eyes were shut tight, and she felt the wind blowing past her ears. They seemed to move at that speed forever, but soon the mare had started to slow to a trot. Arabelle opened her eyes to see her uncle’s warming stables.

    Arabelle urged the mare forward and and screamed for her uncle. The man came rushing out the door to see the young girl. Arabelle nearly jumped on top of the man before fully pulling her horse to a stop. Kyle held his niece as she sobbed into his arms.

    “Marsha is dead. They killed my Marsha!” Arabelle bawled, soaking Kyle’s shirt. As he consoled the young girl, Kyle called over one of his stable hands and had him tend to the mare that brought the girl to the stable yard.