Thank You

A sharp blast of cold air awoke Princess Naniot from her slumber.  There were no sounds of furtive movement in her darkened room, and her groggy mind wanted only to return to the nice soft pillows under her.  Besides, she had two burly guards posted in the hall just outside her door; why would she be afraid?  She concluded she had been dreaming, and pulled the bed sheets over her shoulders as she rolled over to return to sleep.  The silver moonlight caressed her feet and fell to the floor.

Naniot’s eyes snapped open.  The last thing she routinely did before retiring to bed was to knot the draperies closed to shut in the dark.  She might be able to chalk up a breeze to dreaming, but a sliver of moonlight could only mean one thing.

Someone was in her room.

She popped up in time to see a man dressed in black approach her bed.  She saw two more emerge from the drapes.  The princess instinctively rolled from them, toward her closed doors.  The man reached out and grabbed her blankets.  Naniot was so tangled in them that she stopped short of the floor, suspended and helpless.  Fear stole her voice, and when she opened her mouth to call for her guards only a thin hiss of panic escaped her throat.

Rough hands wrapped around her shoulders, “Got her.”  He rolled Naniot’s blanket around her to secure her.  He set her down on the bed and another man came around to stuff a gag in her mouth.  A veil completely obscured his face.

Desperation gave Naniot the strength of the damned, and she forced her arm from the blanket.  Her hand shot out blindly and hit her nightstand.  Grasping fingers fumbled across something cool and smooth that she recognized, and she held on.

The first man grumbled.  The tension in his voice was from fear of rousing the guards, “Get her arm back!”

The veiled assailant looked down at Naniot but stopped when he saw she held a hair stick.  She imagined she saw his eyes widen in surprise through his veil as she jabbed it into his left hand.

The veiled man screamed and yanked out the stick.  He stumbled into Princess Naniot’s dresser with a thud.

The guards moved outside the doors, and the princess thought she would be saved.

The man carrying her swore and hit her, but didn’t knock her out.

She saw the guards enter but were quickly cut down by daggers.

The princess moaned, but was too incoherent to call out a proper distress call.

The man who carried her called over to his partner, who had fallen to his knees, “Can you carry her?”

The veiled man nodded and rose to his feet, clutching his freely bleeding hand, “Aye, let’s go.”

Out on the terrace, they tied the princess and lowered her to the ground below.  Other kidnappers took Naniot and concealed her within the undercarriage of their horse-drawn wagon.  They waited for the others to pile in from above, then snapped the rains.  The horses lurched forward and kept a brisk pace through the streets of the kingdom, ever winding away from the city.  The roads soon became rough and the wagon bounced over ruts and tossed around Princess Naniot.

From somewhere behind them, horns trumpeted through the crisp night air and alerted the city of the princess’ kidnapping.  The wagon stopped.  The man who had grabbed her from her bed said, “Right.  The Royal Guard will be on the gallop now; we don’t have much time.”

Another man said, “Once we reach the ferry, they will never be able to catch us.”

The leader grunted, “We’re not there yet.”

Under the wagon, Naniot heard the trickle of rushing water and knew they had reached the banks of the river Teaelsenbourg.  She knew it would take the Royal Guard time to track the princess, and that once her captors made it to the river all hopes of rescue would be lost.

A loud whoosh of air, like the sound of bedding being shaken out, and the wagon rocked.  One of the men screamed, accompanied by a ripping sound.  A wet thud on the ground, nearby.

The world above her erupted in a tumult of screaming and violence.  Naniot poked her head out and saw the body on the ground.

She shuddered; there was so much blood!

Suddenly all was silent.  A hand reached beneath the carriage and freed the princess from her bedroll binds.  She stood and faced the tallest man she had ever seen.  He had a mane of wild silver hair, and his long dark cloak swirled around him in the snowy darkness.

Except it wasn’t all cloak.  Dark wings unfurled at his back and shook snow from the feather tips.

Princess Naniot froze in shock, but the man held her in his strong arms.  All at once, she was lost in his fierce gaze and pale complexion.

“Are you hurt?”

“N-no…  Thank you for rescuing me.  You should wait for the Guard to arrive; they will reward you handsomely.”

The dark one smiled, “Reward me?  No princess, I think they would more likely HUNT me.”

Naniot’s head swirled.  She knew she should be frightened of this being that had savaged an entire squad of kidnappers, but at the same time, she felt a strong connection to him, “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

He smiled, and suddenly his face was warm and inviting, “Milady, there is a shack over there by the dock.  The Royal Guard will find you soon enough if you call to them.”

He turned to go, but looked once over his shoulder at her, “And princess, you will never be alone as long as I watch over you.”

He took to the air and soon the beat of his wings faded.  Princess Naniot could only whisper a quiet, “Thank you,” as he left.