Long Live The Princess

Chapter 1: Flee

"You need to flee."

It was hard to speak while shoving a heavy wooden table against a door, but Crowley managed.

"They have not yet located any of you and I estimate that we have another ten minutes before they do so. Your only chance at escaping safely is right now."

His words were reinforced by the sounds of fighting men down the hallway. Cries of anguish filled the otherwise silent office that he had just locked. Crowley turned to face the hopefully-soon-to-be-refugees. Duncan stood resolutely, sword in hand, ready to cut down whoever dared to break into the room. Cassandra wore an equally determined look and anger flashed on her face. She had pushed the piles of papers off the desk and stood leaning against it.

"I'll stay," she told him. But Crowley shook his head, dismissing the option before it had even been fully suggested. When it came down to it, his one and only job was to protect the Kingdom. And in this very instance, the Kingdom and the Royal Family were one and the same thing. He needed to protect them. And one stubborn crown princess was not going to stand in the way of that.

The Ranger Commandant gestured to the door and to the hallway behind it, the bloody saxe knife in his hand a brutal reminder of what was going on out there. When he spoke, his words could barely drown out the splashing sounds of more blood being spilled.

"I'm not sure if you noticed, Your Highness, but the Red Fox Clan has infiltrated the castle and are aiming for your head."

Crowley didn't mean for the sarcasm to be so obvious, but he couldn't help it. There were only so many things he could control in a situation like this and his tone wasn't one of them. All of his attention was on getting the Royal Family out of the castle, quickly, and safely. Breathing ragged and with a cluster of panic starting in his abdomen, Crowley embarked on what might be the toughest mission of his life: convincing Cassandra to leave behind her people and her home in order to save her own life.

"Our summer garrison is outnumbered," the Commandant began. His words were barely audible over the loud ringing of bells on the other side of the castle, as the remaining guards called for help. Calls that were left unanswered. Crowley continued.

"Your husband is bleeding from his side and his head." Screaming from the floor above them hinted at more men undergoing the same fate. The sound of it pained Crowley, but what pained him more was that he couldn't do anything to stop it. All he could do was try to convince Cassandra to leave.

"And no matter your otherwise delightful desire to fight, you are in absolutely no condition to act upon that wish," he finished. Crowley needed to get the three of them out of the castle, and he would go to desperate lengths to carry out that duty.

Cassandra met his gaze, challenging him, but she didn't get a chance to reply.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think I could fight while eight months pregnant either," Horace breathed, pain obvious from the tremble in his voice. The sight of him, collapsed onto a chair, his sword leaning against his leg and his hands pressed to his side, softened something in the princess's hardened eyes. Her hand dropped to her large belly, but she resumed her disagreement with Crowley nonetheless.

"What about the Southern Tower?"

The Southern Tower was the Castle's last resort, designed specifically to provide refuge in cases of attack, siege, or infiltration. At all times it harboured food, water, and medical supplies, and it was exactly where they were supposed to flee to.

But Crowley shut that suggestion down too.

"Too far away. I'm not taking that risk."

Finally, Duncan spoke up. His eyes remained fixed on the door behind Crowley, but his ears were undoubtedly analysing the noise coming from behind it. Crowley knew the king long enough to know that he had been wracking his brain trying to decide on the safest way out. The safest way through the Castle, without risking the health of his daughter. The safest way past the dozens of men eager to see her head on a spike.

"There's a servants' tunnel running from this floor to the kitchens. No one will think to guard it. It's the safest option," the king said, interrupting the discussion between his friend and his daughter.

The Commandant nodded in agreement, thankful that his efforts to make the Royal Family flee weren't in vain. A heavy thunder rolled through the office as the fighting reached a new level. Crowley wasn't sure exactly what had caused the rumbling, but the crashing sounds of breaking glass and slain men that followed told him it couldn't be anything good. His previous estimation had been too optimistic. They had three minutes left, tops.

"You can leave the castle using that route. And then you run as if the demons themselves are following you, because they might. I can provide cover from the West Tower to stop them. It's the only place my bow will be of use anyway."

"And I'll cover you," Duncan added. Crowley paled at the thought of keeping the king inside the Castle.

"Absolutely not, Your Majesty," he disagreed resolutely. There was barely any time to argue before the closest Clan members would reach their floor. One barricaded door wouldn't stop them once they figured out who were hiding behind it. The king and his family needed to leave now. But Crowley knew that the king's mind was made up.

Duncan's next words sealed that fate.

"You need my protection, Crowley, if you wish to allow my daughter and her husband to reach the woods safely. And once we're done doing that? You need me to help thin out the attacking forces. And-" he continued, cutting off his old friend before he could reason against him, "our men need to see me fighting alongside them. These clan members have come into my home, threatening my daughter, and everyone needs to see me defending my crown, my legacy, my family, if they're to remain loyal to the throne."

"Dad, no."

This time it was Cassandra who unexpectedly took Crowley's side. She turned towards her father, pleading eyes looking to meet his. It was futile. Duncan merely smiled at the three faces staring at him. His brave friend, his courageous daughter, his loyal son-in-law.

"Take care of my daughter, Horace."

Horace accepted the hand Duncan extended and allowed himself to be helped back on his feet. His sword was back in his right hand, where it belonged. His left hand grabbed Cassandra's and their fingers intertwined almost naturally. He stood upright, and straight, and proud, as he bowed his head and responded.

"I will, sir. Always."

"Dad, no," Cassandra whispered again. She fought the urge to cry as her father pressed a kiss on her head.

"I love you, Cassie."

Crowley felt the tension in the room and heard the intensity in Duncan's tone. There was a great deal of emotion behind those words he spoke, just as there was a great deal of emotion behind Crowley's own slumping shoulders and open mouth, words left unspoken on his lips.

They were defeated. The king had decided. The order had been given. Now it was time to see it through.

Crowley regained his posture and maintained a steady tone as he gave the final instructions, moving the table as he did.

"Run for the safe house in the woods. Alun will be there to take care of you. I've already sent word to Redmont for reinforcements. Wait there until I send someone to get you."

Then he threw the door open to greet hell itself.

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Fight, Cassie. Fight.