Chapter 3: Over the Falls

Chapter 3: Aftermath (LCE)

The gasping lad waved toward the small beach of an inlet that formed a backwater behind the falls. The sheltered cove blocked the wind and the sun warmed a gravely mixture of small stones and sand. Pandora rowed over and leapt into the shallows. She fought with her wet skirt as she tugged the boat onto the bank. The young man retched over the side, gasping, coughing and spitting up water. Pandora helped him ashore. Three steps up the little bank he stumbled and dropped to his knees. She assessed his improving condition, and noted her own soggy gartments. Her blouse had ripped at the shoulder but still clung to her body.

After a time, the young man seemed to have cleared his lungs. He glanced up, his jaw dropped open and he stared in dismay at the young girl. A long pause stretched between them, until Pandora decided to take charge.

"Sorry about your boat." She shuffled her feet as a look of guilt came over her face. "The wolves made me do it."

"Don't apologize." The lad answered, "I'd have done the same thing."

She sighed and looked around. "I suppose that things could have gone worse?"

He shook his head. "I thought we were both goners."

"Do you know where we are?"

It started to sprinkle.

"Not exactly." He scanned the area and looked out across the rushing river. "I've never gone this far down stream before. Everyone hereabout knows the Great Falls border an Enchanted Forest, and a ruler who doesn't take kindly to strangers."

"Fancy that." The Princess twisted at her soggy dress and squeezed water out through her fingers. "What's your name?"

A pause ensued. "Kindred."

Pandora wrinkled her forehead. Is he being evasive?

He countered, "And yours?"

She wondered how her mother would handle the situation. The answer was self evident. "My Lady!" She replied with a condescending arrogance she'd seen her mom use on many occasions. It was designed to put people in their place. Donning her "Princess" persona like a full suit of armor, she continued, "Once you win my trust, I might allow you to address me informally, if no one else is present." With that she looked away.

"Well . . ." Kindred had the amused look of someone whose identity has been mistaken, however he quickly wiped it from his face. "You certainly have the dress and demeanor of a highborn."

"See you don't forget it." She answered looking up. "And you?"

Again he paused. "My father's a grower."

Ahh-ha! A farmer's son, trying to hide his low birth. She knew now where they stood and threw him a bone. "Farming's honest work."

The lad seemed to welcome the opportunity offered by her words. "Indeed it is. Would that I was back there this very instant, plowing the fields and slopping the hogs." He swiped his wet hair back from his face.

"Well, Kindred, you're a farmer no more." She looked down her nose. "You serve me now, and Fate has written you a different destiny."

Kindred shook his head as if trying to figure out a new relationship. Understanding came slowly.

'''Tis true You saved my life..." Kindred focused, his elbows resting upon his knees

"I did, didn't I?" Puzzlement clouded her face. "This isn't the way it's supposed to happen."

"Huh?"

"You do know a knight is supposed to save his lady? " She shot him a quizzical look. "And I wound up saving you. That's rather backwards, don't you think?"

Kindred shrugged. "You'll have to ask a Knight."

"It was a rhetorical question," she explained, exhasperated.

"What?"

"Duh... Call me MY LADY!"

It was harsh sounding and louder than she intended and Pandora reminded herself to remain calm. Princesses do not berate the peasantry. Her governess's frequent admonition came to mind.

"Henceforth you shall address me properly." She scowled.

He flashed a mischievous grin. "You're quite a sight in that soggy dress, MY LADY." He eyed the womanly curves revealed by her clinging attire.

"And further you need to stop that obscene gawking." I need to nip this in the bud. "It's rude for a anyone to so openly display his . . ." she fumbled for a appropriate word. "Desire." She said finally.

He looked away, face flushed in embarrassment. "Forgive me." His words sounded genuine.

"Forgive me what?" She emphasized the "What."

"Forgive me, MY LADY." He blurted it out, as if cowered by the exchange.

"You're forgiven... Just see it doesn't happen again." Pointing her finger and shaking it, Pandora made one last point, "...And don't forget that you owe me."

"Yes, My Lady." A note of playfullness crept into his voice.

He might have said more but noticed she was shivering. The wind was picking up and there was a chill in the air. He got up and strode to the boat. He popped open a small hatch. Inside the water-tight compartment he found a small assortment of essentials. He took out a bundle of dry clothing, trousers, a shirt, and a pair of sandals, and tossed them at her feet.

"Put these on. You make me cold just watching you. When you get changed, perhaps you'd be so good as to gather some firewood. I'll see if there's some fish to be had." He stepped off and then paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "By your leave of course, My Lady."

She nodded her approval with an aloof air, but his disengenous tone was not totally lost. Did I detect a note of sarcasm? Under normal circumstances Pandora had an excellent ear for nuances, but the chill was distracting and the flannel shirt and cotton trousers, beckoned to her shivering body No, of course not, she chided herself. That would require sophistication. What we have here is a simple country bumpkin.

The clothes looked like a close enough fit, and she relished the promise of something dry. When Kindred disappeared Pandora darted behind a rock and pulled them on. They were rough-hewn, but clean. A luxurious warmth spread though her. While they fit a bit loose, that could be remedied when they found a seamstress. Why the soap she wondered, surely he doesn't think I smell like he does? With that she put it in her pocket, stepped into the sandals and set out to find some wood. An hour later when Kindred ambled back there was a nice pile on the bank. He carried a stringer with three nice trout.

"I did my part, for all the good it does. We've no fire, or do you intend eating them raw?" She looked askanse at the fish.

"Peasants are trained to perform many low tasks. . . My Lady" He added, avoiding eye contact, "fire-making is one of them."

He took out the packet of dried tinder, and the starting bow. In short order he'd spitted the fish over a small camp fire. He'd found some salt and dried herbs in the boat's compartment. He mixed them into a paste and brushed it over the fish with his fingertips. The fish proved to be delicious and the Princess ravenous. It was simple fare but tasted good, and turned out as fine a meal as she could ever recall.

Twilight settled. The music of croaking frogs resonated in the air. A southern breeze warmed their skin and teased through their hair. She pulled the last of the laces from her ruined blouse. She tossed the useless garment aside, then looked a long moment at the young man. "... And what do you think the morrow bodes?"

He looked her in the eye. "Are you asking what we need to do, My Lady?"

She waved her hand in a wide arc. "This is a situation suited to a man's knowledge." She paused. "Yes, some advice would not be deemed inappropriate."

"We cannot go back." He stroked his jaw,. "We're hemmed in by the forest and we can't row up those falls. It seems down the river is our best course, MY LADY."

"My assessment as well." She nodded in his direction. "Your manners are improving. I'll sleep in the boat. You can fend for yourself." Pandora stood.

In the distance a wolf howled.

She stiffened.

Kindred reassured her. "We'll be safe here 'til morning... My Lady. Beyond that, we'll simply have to go with the flow."