Hidden Away

Chapter 12: The Smell

            Gaelen's wavy hair flipped over her shoulder as her head whipped to look behind her. Only servants, guards, and a few towns-folk could be seen walking the grounds. None of them seemed to have shot the arrow, so she turned back around. The king didn't seem to care who had sent it their direction, knowing immediately who it was by the craftsmanship and the mark on the seal left in the wax. He yanked on the shaft, releasing the paper into his other hand as Gaelen slowly approached his side.

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

He nodded his head, "It will be."

"Do you know who that's from?"

"I do," he broke the seal.

She nodded her head, watching his brow furrow as his eyes scanned the unfolded letter.

He turned to look at her, "You should go to your room and wash up. I won't be at lunch this afternoon, but you're welcome to whatever you'd like. I'll let the kitchen staff know to make whatever you want."

Gaelen nodded her head as he folded the paper up, a few crumbles of wax falling to the stone floor. With one last look up at his worried eyes, she turned to find her room. Thankfully it wasn't terribly far from the main door, but she was still concerned she'd get lost walking there. How silly would she look if she couldn't even find her room? Granted she hadn't been there long, but still...

Upon stepping through the door, she noticed a large tub full of steaming hot water. Etta stood behind it.

She gasped, "Gaelen, are you alright?"

Gaelen nodded her head, "I'm fine. Why?"

She walked forward, "Your cheek's bruised."

"Oh," she raised a hand to it and winced slightly as her fingers brushed against the purple mark, "Yeah. Antony hit me."

"Antony? I never did like him."

"You know him?"

She walked to fully close and lock the door, "He always bullied my son as a kid and from what I've heard he hasn't changed much since then."

Gaelen watched her and nodded, "Well he's locked in a cell now."

Etta smiled, a little crookedly, "I probably shouldn't say this, but it serves him right!"

She giggled a little, "Well if we'd listened to him Alistair might not be alive right now, so I think you're right in saying that."

Her hands, though old, were still nimble as she began unbuttoning Gaelen's dress from the back, "Is that so?"

"Mhm." Gaelen's face was flushed. She still hadn't grown accustomed to being dressed and undressed by someone else.

"Tell me all about it."

So as she was undressed and bathed, she recounted all that had happened since she left to find Alistair up the point that an arrow had flown by her with a letter.

"An arrow you say?" she asked, helping Gaelen into a new dress.

"Yeah," she slipped her arm into a sleeve, "It was all black and I think there were raven feathers."

Etta began lacing up the back, "Did you get a look at the design on the seal?"

"No. Why?"

"The black arrow with raven feathers sounds familiar. That's all."

"Do you know who it's from?"

Etta maintained the quiet a moment before speaking, "Have you ever heard of Thanastroph?"

Gaelen turned her head to the side and cast here eyes up a bit as she thought, "It sounds kind of familiar, but I can't place it. Who is he?"

She was nearly done with the lacing in the back, "He's a rogue and a vagabond. He doesn't really belong in any one kingdom and all the rulers kind of see him as a nuisance. He does as he pleases without any regard to the laws of the land. However, for a price, he'll do your bidding. On occasion, when he can be found, he's employed to send messages. Because he's been wandering the land his whole life, or so rumors say, he knows it better than the kings themselves and can deliver a message faster than anyone else. Because some kings would have him killed if they could catch him, he usually leaves the message stuck in a wall or tree with an arrow of his. And before delivering it he'll sometimes leave a mark in the wax of a raven over the original imprint."

"And you think he delivered the message?"

She hesitated, "It's just speculation."

"Who would have hired him?"

"It's hard to say. They'd have to have managed to catch him or offer lots of gold. It's possible it was a king from another kingdom who urgently needed a message sent."

Gaelen nodded her head, "It's probably best to let the king worry about these things. I'm sure he'll do what's best for the kingdom."

Etta nodded, "I'm sure you're right. Now why don't you wander down to the kitchen to find a bite to eat then come back up here for a rest. I'm sure you're exhausted after saving our prince again." She offered a joking, but appreciative smile.

"Umm," her cheeks flushed, "It really wasn't anything..." She looked down a little.

"Hon," Etta lifter her chin, "Stand proud. You've saved our crowned prince not just once, but twice. Most of the royal guard haven't even done that. Your mother would have been proud."

Gaelen opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't. She felt tears gathering in her eyes as one slid down her cheek, leaving a path for more to follow. And they did.

Etta embraced her, coddling her head on her shoulder as she said quietly, "Oh Gaelen! I'm so sorry."

She sniffled a little, "It's – it's alright."

"It's ok if you need to cry a little. Your loss was still so recent."

She nodded her head a little, wiping a tear away.

Etta lightly laid her hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes, "If you ever need someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, I'll be here."

Gaelen swallowed and sniffled one last time as she dried her eyes, blinking a few times, "Thank you, Etta. I'll remember your kindness."

She nodded, empathy showing in her eyes, "Now please go get a bite to eat and get a little rest. It'll help you feel better."

Gaelen took a deep breath, nodding her head, then slowly walked out of her room. She ran a hand through her damp hair, resisting the urge to cry right there. Inside she was panicking, suffocating. She felt like a little kid lost in the market – alone and afraird. Any day now she'd break down, but not now – not where she could be seen. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment as she did so. Within minutes the kitchen was in sight. In all honesty, getting in there and making something herself sounded like the best idea, but she knew that would be unacceptable. She was a guest of the royal family and as such she would be expected to act like one of them.

As she took a step forward, reaching for the door, she smelled something strange, yet familiar. What was it? She couldn't quite place it and she hesitated, trying to decipher its location. Then it hit her. No. Her heart pounded and she lunged for the door as a hooded figure appeared in her periphery. She was too slow. His hand slid over her mouth, forcing her to inhale the substance. Her foot stomped hard on his, but he was unshakeable. She continued to reach for the door and tried to scream, but her voice was muffled. Soon the door before her began to blur and her eyes were unable to focus. Everything began to darken before her body went limp and she was carried away.

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