The Rugged Edge

Chapter 7: On the Inside

The quiet in Rokenmeine:
I saw it with great distaste.
Void of laughter, never fain,
it could not meet my hopes.

. . . . .

The man and woman, both, were crouching whispering in the tall grass at the edge of the forest. They both looked up as I came. I was conscious of the pad, pad of my boots on the dry, crunching earth.

"Good evening," said the woman as I came close. "We need you to follow us."

And without another word, all three of us were hiking silently through the thick brambles.

The walk seemed endless. Twig after twig snapped under my feet. The only sound was the soft hoot of the owls in the leaves. But I wasn't really bored; I tried to memorize every bit of the trail. The only way to discern the way we were going from any other brambled path was the slightly flattened grass and broken twigs. I loved looking at the tall oak trees around me. This forest had been my refuge for a long time, I realized. And I loved it. I believed it was all I had.

Soon the moon was visible as the canopy thinned, and without much delay a clearing was in sight. Green and grey tents were everywhere, along with mats made of reeds and vines. The only light besides the moon was a small campfire towards the middle of the clearing. Its feeble puffs of smoke were barely visible against the sky. It was clear that this particular camp didn't want to be found.

I tried to count the people asleep on mats or warming their hands next to the fire. After a few attempts, I gave up and decided there was somewhere around thirty-five or forty. A decent party.

Meanwhile, our trio had reached the biggest tent in the middle. The woman rebel opened the grey flap carefully.

"Rufus? I've got her," she called in.

After a moment's pause, she stooped and stepped in, motioning for me to follow. The man trailed behind.

Inside was a man sitting on a stool. He was dressed in a brown cloak and his blond hair was a disaster; it was scruffy and looked like a yellow bird's nest, with streaks of grey. It seemed as if he'd never seen a comb. He was sitting on a short wooden stool in front of a low table, on top of which there was a map with little red markers stuck in it.

He looked up at the woman spy and me, and he smiled placidly... but slyly, and in a way it was chilling. "Good evening," he said, although it was very late. "You must be the little princess I've heard so much about. Or... maybe not so little?"

I decided not to speak.

"May I speak with you awhile, alone?" he asked.

I nodded, after a slight hesitation.

"Good. Aldith, Cyneric, could you please wait just outside?"

The woman, Aldith, looked at me, smiled, and left. Cyneric followed close behind.

Rufus smiled again, that odd smile from before. "Sit down," he instructed.

I sat down on another stool in front of the table.

Rufus looked me over. "What are you, fourteen?" A pause. "I didn't want to trust you before. But I've considered what Aldith told me, and I'm beginning to agree with Bessy."

I gave him a blank look. Was I about to find out what Curtis and Roland had been talking about in the forest? "I'm afraid I don't understand what Bessy has to do with this," I pushed. I really did want to know.

Rufus breathed in deeply. The pause seemed to last forever. Finally, he said, "Could you please explain your story to me? I need to know how much you know."

I stared at him. For me to find out his story, he had to know mine. Fine.

My story seemed much too long as I explained it. I cut out bits and pieces, like my real motives and suspicions. He didn't need to know those.

By the end, he knew about as much as Aldith and Cyneric.

When I was done, he pondered me again, and then said: "So it is true that you are also against Collum? You also want him dead?"

"I..." I paused.

Did I really want him dead? I mean, I was sure he'd killed my mother, and he'd obviously done horrible things to the poor kingdom, but did he deserve to die? I felt too merciful... should a queen be so merciful?

I need to start thinking like a queen, I thought. But then an image slipped into my mind, that of my mother's painting; Giovanna with her sad smile. How might she treat Collum, even though he had killed her?

"Why must he die? I just want a proper ruler for this kingdom," I said.

"I see. So what do you suppose we ought to do with your stepfather, then?"

"He should serve his punishment, but that doesn't mean he has to die."

There was a long silence as Rufus pondered me. I felt like I was being tested, and that he was summing up how well I'd done.

I broke the silence. "I'd like to know about Bessy, if you please."

"Ah, yes," sighed Rufus. And he explained. "We began this rebellion more than ten years ago to place a proper ruler in the place of either king or queen. You see, we didn't agree with Collum and his ways so we decided to take his undeserved throne away." Rufus's voice was heavy with disrespect. "Bessy was one of our first recruits. Though elderly, she was very efficient and she belonged in the castle. The perfect spy. But she began to become very close to you, and we didn't agree. You see, though I don't mean to offend you, we couldn't trust someone so apparently close to Collum. How could we know? You'd lived your whole life with him. But Bessy seemed to take it personally, and she declared passionately that you were worthy to rule. So she left."

Rufus's monologue stopped. I knew that he had finished; he had said all he meant to say, but I felt like he'd left something out. A lot out. Still, I decided to lay the matter aside. I had to figure out what Rufus needed with me. Why else would he have wanted to talk to me, and me alone?

"Okay," I said slowly. "So what do you need me for?"

"Ahh! My favorite part," said Rufus, with that signature smile. "If you are truly passionate about defeating Collum, then you must take up a difficult task... would you be willing to spy for our miniscule rebellion?"

The statement came so frankly that I felt very taken aback. A spy. Me! And he'd just been talking about not trusting me. So I put my mind to work deciding. What would come with being a spy? Would it be good for me and for my cause, or only hindering? Both, I was sure. Hopefully more on the good side. But... did I want to be part of the rebellion at all? I mean, did I belong here, with this crew of supposed warriors with wooden swords? Or did I belong in a palace, the pretty princess during the day and the valiant and independent trainee during the night?

To my surprise, I quietly answered Rufus: "I'll see what I can do."

Rufus smiled again, and reached out his hand. "Thank you, Your Highness. We respect your contribution." I shook the hand. And he smiled wider... only more slyly.