Weaving Moonlight

Mendacities and Machinations

Stefan

     Mendacities and Machinations

The whiz of the arrow was loud enough for Stefan to dodge it. It impaled itself into the tree next to him, inches from his face. He knew that danger lurked in the forest but he had not expected to be attacked so directly. He heard a groan next to him and saw sap coloured eyes open on oak wood. He staggered back in fear and was acutely aware of the rustling leaves, far away. The prince made a move to put as much distance from himself and his pursuing attackers. Something grabbed his arm and he tried to flinch away. His attempt was futile. He looked down at his arm and saw that looked like a branch. The twigs morphed into individual fingers.

“The arrow! Remove the arrow!” A raspy voice yelled. Stefan’s mind raced out of control. He wanted to be rid of the vice grip. How could it be so tight? He calmed himself down and remembered his training. He had to be rational about the situation. It was clear that the tree was more than just a tree. It must have been a faery, and it was in pain. Stefan gripped his fingers around the arrow and pulled it out. Slimy green sap splurged from the hole but the faery-tree finally released its hold. He bolted away as quickly as he could... and bumped into someone.

Stefan fell on impact. Towering over him was lumbering man. He was very muscular but his face could not be clearly seen in the dark.

“You cannot escape me, mortal” Stefan was perplexed. He wanted to protest but before he knew it, vines were entangling his hands and the stranger grabbed him and lifted him up, so he dangled over his shoulder. “I would kill you, but I’m sure your new master would not be pleased.” He thought the prince was a mortal slave! It was true that he was not in his usual royal attire- for that could prove a fatal mistake- but he could not understand why this giant oaf could not at least sense his magical aura.

“Put me down! I am fully capable of walking!”

“And running away.” Perhaps he was not so stupid after all. Stefan could only see the ground and his kidnapper’s legs as he was carried away. Soon enough he could hear another voice, yelling to move faster.

“I got another one” His kidnapper said.

“Put him in with the rest” Stefan felt a sensation of vertigo as he was plopped on the ground. His strange make-shift vine handcuffs entwined themselves to a person in front of him. He saw a line of miserable people. He himself had been mistaken for a mortal slave. This must have been a chain gang! They were transporting purchased slaves somewhere, but where? Stefan tapped the man in front of him. “Where are they taking us?” The prince whispered.

“Shut up before you get us both in trouble” The man responded. Not used to such rude orders, he did so, grudgingly.

It took a long time to get to the Unseelie King’s palace on foot, by which time they were told to use the back entrance. They were taken into a bare, cold room where they were made to stand by a wall, so they could be inspected. Stefan had no wishes to remain amongst these slaves and was already devising a plan to escape. A man entered the room and scanned his eyes across them all. When his dark eyes rested on the prince, he smiled visibly. Stefan had been found out! The man wore extravagant robes, in emerald green, with intricately woven threads of gold. He whispered something to one of the guards, who grunted and nodded in response. The next thing Stefan knew, he was being removed from the rest of the chain gang. The finely dressed man directed him through confusing passageways, into a private room. It was only then that he spoke to him.

“If you wish to see the king, I advise that you first make yourself look presentable.” He remarked.

“How did you...”