Thread: The Princess and the Tavern-Queen, by Kotep and Stackhoused

Dew had soaked the poor runner's legs. Such was his thirst that he gladly would have licked the water right off his skin. He had been running for over half a day, taking little time to stop. The dew seemed to taunt him, as he dared not rest and let his message be late. It had come straight from one of the kingdom's spies, dictated to the scribe before his very eyes, and then given to him to take to the king. Chest heaving with deep breaths, his mouth slowly shaped into a weak grin in the distance stood the great stone fortress that was his destination. That had been three days prior. Since that time, the king had discussed with his generals the best course of action in relation to the news the letter had brought them. Robert la Montagne, the king of the country of Auvergne to the west, had formed a new strategy to obtain the much-desired rich farmland held by his neighbor, King Charlot Levesque. He would attack the kingdom of Aquitaine directly, with an assault on the king's palace itself. The king prepared for battle. He entertained no notion of fleeing. However, he would not hold his family inside what was to become a military fortress. His five sons and daughters, each by themselves but for the youngest of his sons who was accompanied by the queen, were to be sent away to various forts, away from the battle, so that should he fall, there would be at least one true heir to the throne. King Charlot had watched the carriages roll away into the darkness before turning away, steeling himself for the battle that was to come. The carriages were sparsely manned, as the king could spare few men from his ranks to serve as guards. One driver and one royal guard each rode with the carriages, for all but the youngest son and the queen, who received two guards. They did their best to comfort the royal family, dashed away to some unknown fort while their father led the defense of their land. Only the brief details were picked up by the bandits living in the woods one of the carriages had to pass through rich coach, lightly guarded, easy to attack. The carriage was stopped rather abruptly, rocking as bandits leapt from the trees, while the driver rose from his seat, yelling and cracking his whip at the faces gleaming in the darkness. The lightly armored guard rose from his seat opposite the princess, leaping out and drawing the bandits' attentions. The princess could see him, surrounded with his sword in the moonlight, trying to fight off the dark figures of the marauders as they descended around him. Run! he cried out to the face that watched him from the carriage, willing to give his life if it meant that the princess would have the time to reach safety somewhere. Run! he shouted again, dealing the leader of the pack a blow with his fist to turn their attention onto him once more. There was only one way to go out the other door of the carriage and into the woods. Not far from the woods that were the princess's only chance for escape, the last people awake in the small countryside town were shutting down, going home, and going to sleep. The town's biggest tavern, The Blushing Wench, had only four waking souls in it the bartender and proprietor, one of the barmaids, and two old friends in a drinking contest. The barmaid leaned on the end of the bar, sighing lightly as she watched the two of them. The more they drink, the more they're forgetting the headache they'll be feeling tomorrow, the tavern wench said. She gave the bartender a knowing glance. But the more they drink, the more they pay your wages, the bartender replied with a warm smile.