Deceptively Royal

Chapter 4

Footsteps are coming from down the hall and I duck behind a pillar, not wanting to be spotted by the pirates. I clasp a hand over my mouth to silence my breathing. "The captain wants us to look in every room for the map," a muffled voice says. "So far the crew has checked all of the royal bedrooms and are heading towards the armory." A second companion replies.

My father keeps everything of importance in the armory so I bet the pirates will find what they are looking for in a matter of seconds. Not wanting anything in my father's possession to get stolen, I hurry towards the armory.

Thankfully, I arrive before the pirates and grab a dagger off the wall. I stick the weapon up my sleeve, wanting to appear unarmed. I begin to scour the room for a hidden map. It is quite difficult when I do not the size or shape of the map, but I try all the same. I rip assorted things (weapons, paintings, clocks, and everything in between) off the wall searching for the safe. I have visited the armory numerous times, but it is always in moments of panic when I am unable to find the object I need.

A head sticks out of the doorframe and I hurriedly open the trap door. I climb down, worried that I have been spotted. I replay the scene in my head and if I correctly remember the person's head was not in the doorway long enough to have noticed me.

I jump as a pile of weapons falls above the trapdoor. Stories about rough pirates are told all the time and now I can see why. Pirates will stop at nothing to get what they want. I admire their dedication, not enough of the politicians have the guts to stick it out when things get messy. Sometimes I wish they did. Often, I wish someone, anyone would have even a fraction of the diligence I possess.

"Unfortunately, the map is not here. We will continue looking elsewhere. The captain says the map might be smaller than we were expecting. We need to hurry otherwise someone will reach it first, and we all know that wouldn't be good."

I rub my gold heart locket. Father gave it to me when I was a little girl, no more than 6 or 7. He had said it was my job to keep it safe and that one day the whole kingdom would be searching for it. I wonder if the locket contains the map. My hands shake as I open the clasp. The locket contains faded text on one side and an image on the other. The text reads 'The Road to Alstroemeria'. I glance at the other side. The image is black and white with little smudges all over. Upon further inspection I realize the smudges are islands. The names are unreadable but from all my years of schooling, I know a few tricks that might help. I take one last look at the locket and stuff it back down my dress. Wanting to make sure the locket stays hidden, I run my fingers along my neck. Once I am certain the necklace is hidden, I crawl in the direction of my room. The passages should be safe —only Gwen, Daphne and I have fully explored them—but I still need to keep my guard up. You never know what might be lurking down here.

I eventually reach the trap door that leads to my room and open it. I scoop clothes out of my dresser and toss them into my bookbag, without sparing a second glance. I will not need to worry about the clothes I am wearing on my journey, I will most certainly be preoccupied. I throw a burgundy peasant dress over my head and smooth out the wrinkles. Then I tear the pins out of my hair and stick them in my pocket. At any given moment I may need to unlock a door and I like to be prepared. I reach for a bandana and tie my pigtails back. Then I rush downstairs. Where the fighting has tremendously picked up.

All around me I hear clangs of metal. People are falling left and right. It is impossible to tell who is winning. The pirates are outnumbered but they fight dirty, and we have trained soldiers. Soldiers who are used to taking commands, not being in charge.

A body falls against my shoulder. The man is covered in blood, he was shot straight in the heart and chances are he will not survive the night. I brush the blood off and am left starting at a familiar face. A face I never liked to begin with. Although in this moment, I wish I would have spent more time with him. Philip Walker of Ruden is dead. He was a good man and an even better solider, but it was not enough. It was not enough to save his life. Sorrow fills my lungs until I can hardly breathe. I am met with a painful reminder. A reminder that at any moment death could greet me, or Gwen, or Daphne. Death could greet even the most invincible warrior. Because in the end, it will never be enough. No one can beat death. It is a painful reminder, but also an important one. A reminder that I have to continue, even if the journey will be long and hard. Even if I might not make it in the end. But for as long as I am able, I will find a way to beat death. For the sake of Philip and all of the fallen soldiers.

As I walk all I can see is blurs. I wipe the tears with my sleeves and carry on. I have a mission to complete, and I will not stop until it is done.

I riffle through the pirate's bags. There are a variety of different bags, but I need to find one I can inconspicuously fit into. I pick up a medium sized potato sack. I think I can fit into it if I huddle up in a ball. I climb in and wrap my arms around my knees. It is an uncomfortable fit, with cans poking my back, but the potato sack will do.

Within seconds the sack is lifted off the ground. I urge my body to stay still, which is not hard because I am frozen with fear. "Sophie this bag is too heavy," a voice complains. "You carried the bag here and it did not magically get heavier. Stop being such a wimp." A girl, presumably Sophie, replies.

The pirates begin singing an anthem. They sound like drunken sailors –which they very well might be —with less than admirable voices, but the tune is catchy and entrances me. Before I know it, we arrive at the ship. I can feel a slight sway of the ship and the feeling is rather delightful. Someone tosses the potato sack down and I stay in my hiding place for a little longer.

When I can't hear any footsteps, I carefully crawl out of the sack. I crouch behind a barrel, praying I will not be spotted. I allow myself a small smile. I have not been caught yet. Hopefully, I will be able to make the journey without ever announcing my presence.

And then all at once everything comes to a thrashing halt. I am yanked by my pigtail and a girl calls over her shoulder "Captain we have found a stowaway."