Waiting For Spring
Chapter 22

Lazily, the King tossed his sword from one hand to the other, the sharp look in his eye told me that he was tracking my every movement. He was waiting for me to make the first move and I wasn’t about to fall into whatever trap he had set. I wasn’t the one who was going to be surprised by their opponent. I was saving that honor for him.

Glancing at the men beside us, I didn’t miss the smug looks most of them now had. Safe in the knowledge their king would dispatch his opponent without incident. Many had a look of eagerness about them, as if they were just waiting for my moment of embarrassment. Unfortunately, for them they were going to be disappointed.

I was brought back to the present by the whistling sound of a sword slicing through the air. Without thinking, I jumped out of its path, dropping my own sword in my attempts to escape the King’s blow.

“Lady Anne, I think you’re going to need that to fight me,” he gestured at my fallen sword, but I was already backing up, until I was flush with the crowd. Now that we were surrounded by tall men, it was difficult for me to pinpoint the location of the weapons house and if my plan was going to work it was the first thing I needed to replace.

“It was just weighing me down anyway,” I answered, distracted by my search. Finally, I located the roof peak of the weapons house just over the King’s shoulder. The same king that had taken several strides in my direction, easily eating up the distance between us.

All I needed was to get around the arrogant King. From the look on his face, he believed he had already won, and I couldn’t wait to wipe that look right off his face. I had spent my life on the streets, fighting for the very food I needed to survive. This King didn’t know what fighting was and I was about to give him a front row seat to street fighting, and there was no chance I was fighting fair.

“Come on Annie,” he mocked. “Just admit you can’t win.” Again, he was tossing his sword leisurely from one hand to the other, approaching with slow measured steps. But not once did his eyes leave mine.

“Why would I do that when I have you exactly where I want you?” He lunged at me again, and this time I ducked his swing, diving through his fighting stance and rolling to my feet at his back. Before the king had a chance to turn and face me, I took his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the soft grass of the training grounds.

A ripple of whispers ran through the crowd, but I was already running in the direction of the weapons house. The length of my riding dress and the slight heel on my boot slowed me down but my determination made up for the inconvenience.

I heard the King’s shout of frustration as I wove through the crowd of men standing between me and the weapons house. Before any of them had a chance to stop my advance, I leapt for the edge of the roof. For a moment, my fingers scraped uselessly on the roof tiles and my left slipped right off. Knowing the king was probably only seconds behind me, I gripped tighter with my right fingertips and steadied myself enough to swing my left hand back up. Feeling a tug on my right leg, I looked down to replace a flustered King trying to pull me free of my hold.

Using my free leg, I kicked out at the king eliciting a cry of pain when I made contact with part of his body. Which part? I didn’t know as I had already used the force to swing myself up on the tiles of the roof. Without looking back, I gathered up my riding skirts and scrambled up the roof before cresting the peak and sliding down the other side.

Landing with a jarring thud, I barely had time to catch my breath before I was searching for the barrel I had seen earlier when the King had been dragging me over to the center of the training ground. Glancing inside, I saw that it is only a quarter full, suggesting the men had been having quite a bit of the beverage after a long day of training.

Looking around, I found two stones from the ground and some thatch that had escaped from beneath the roof tiles. Nimble fingers, from years of starting my own fire allowed me to light the fire in seconds before tossing the budding flames into the barrel of ale, catching the whole thing alight. Twisting it to its side, I rolled it back in the direction of the approaching guards who had already started calling my location out to the King.

Over their shouting, I could hear the shouts of the King, demanding to know where I was and why none of the men had stopped me. While everyone was distracted by the rolling fire, I ducked inside the open door of the weapons house and grabbed the two nearest daggers hanging on the walls.

Slinking out of the weapons house, I peeked around the side, back out over the training grounds to replace a cacophony of noise and movement. Guards were running everywhere in search of a way to put out the growing flame as it started to catch on the leaf litter around the edges of the training grounds. And at the center of it all was the King, barking orders, his back turned to me.

In the mayhem, no one seemed to notice me, and I wove myself through the mass of moving bodies, the daggers held closely to my sides. When I was less than a meter away, I broke into a run, not caring how much attention I drew to myself. Several called out as I barreled through them but their warnings were too late or unheard by the King consumed by his rage.

When I was almost on top of the king, I dropped into a crouch and swung my legs, hard. Knocking the King’s legs out from under him and for the second time that day sending him crashing to the ground.

Releasing an enraged growl, he attempted to right himself, but I had already launched myself and was straddling his chest with one dagger pressed firmly against his neck and the other poised over his kidney. There was a moment of shock on the King’s face and in that moment, I allowed myself to revel in my victory. A smile spread quickly across my face as the training grounds descended into silence, all eyes trained on what I had just done to their king.

“I believe the first rule of any sword fight is never underestimate your opponent.”

I guess what they were really waiting for was how their King would react to being brought down by a Lady of his court. Not one person moved, or even breathed as the King processed his defeat.

By now, the fire had been extinguished and the ground it had spread across was crackling with the aftermath of its burn. Men stood idly, watching for the king’s next move.

Then, he did something that shocked everyone in the training fields. His lips spread wide and a liberating smile danced across his lips as laughter tumbled out. I was too surprised to keep my hold on the daggers, the one on his neck falling from my grip and landing beside his ear on the grass beneath us both.

“James?” Troy asked from somewhere near my side. I was trapped in the King’s emotion, too stunned to look away.

“She could bring a country to its own ruin with the right motivation.” He laughed, suddenly placing his hands beneath my arms and lifting us both to our feet in one swift and fluid motion. “The chaos that follows her would be enough to bring any king to his knees.”

“I don’t care about other kings,” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at the laughing King. “I only care that I bested you.”

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he beamed, taking a step into my space before running the backs of his knuckles over the rise of my cheek, instantly leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “But I cannot grant you freedom outside the castle grounds.”

The sincerity of his voice and the almost regretful expression were the only things preventing my anger from boiling over. It seemed that with the king, even when I won, I lost. So, I tried to different approach, “Can I at least be granted the freedom to leave my rooms?”

He seemed to think my suggestion over, his eyes remaining solely on mine and everything else seemed to fade into the background. “Why don’t I take you to the gardens? I can take you whenever you call.” He suggested, his eyes lighting with the excitement of his own suggestion. And he continued, “You’re right, it’s not fair I keep you locked up all day. It’s like clipping the wings of the most beautiful bird in the aviary.”

While I was glad, he understood he couldn’t continue to keep me locked away, I knew I was never made to be the bird wasting their life away behind bars. I was born to fly free and in my own direction, not in the one another had chosen for me.

“I promise, I’ll try harder, my Rose.” He implored, clasping at my hands and pulling me close again.

“How could you possibly keep that promise?” He was always so busy. The time between his visits had sometimes been closer to weeks than days. “I just want to be free of my rooms. Why can’t you promise me that?”

“I have never in my life broken a vow. The closest I ever came was stopping my search for you.” I tried to stop him, to keep him from saying anymore but he continued anyway. “If I were to agree to your demands, I would break the most important vow I have ever made. One I made in front of both our parents and the members of our courts and people of our countries. I vowed to protect you above all else. Even when you were your greatest threat, as you often are. I will never break that vow, no matter how hard you push me.”

Pressing a kiss against my forehead, he took a shirt offered to him by Troy and pulled it roughly over his head. Sweat made his brown hair spike in odd directions. Guilt rushed through me when I saw a faint line on his neck where I had pressed the knife too deep.

Speaking quickly to Troy, so I couldn’t hear, the King then led me off the training grounds. He walked me back to my rooms with a brush of a kiss against my lips and the promise to return tomorrow.