Runaway Princess

14: Runaway Princess

Heylo! Yes, I know. This has taken awhile to fall into your hands. BUT IVE ONLY JUST FINISHED IT. You're gunna be in for a s-u-r--p-r-i-s-e in this one!!!!!!! 

Okay. I wont hold you any longer, my darlings.

YOU MAY READ NOW!!!!

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A foreboding feeling swelled in my chest at the sight of the building. The Vine’s Cavern gave off a sensation of dark menace and I was hesitant about our visit inside. The name did indeed suit the bar as dark mangled vines crept up the sides of the structure. The walls were a deep brown, almost black, and there was not a plant in the area excluding the vines and the dead, brown grass that swept the region. Some would comment it was from the heated drought that seemed to fill the lands from miles around, but it made the building overall much more disturbing.

We’d left our bags in a hidden ditch just a few minutes back. Ella warned us that there wasn’t a person around here who wouldn’t think about stealing from us. Of course Ella still kept the stones on her; she said she’d die before the stones were taken.

Her words frightened me a bit. To die for stones? For the wealth and fame that came at the end of the road? I couldn’t picture why someone would do such a thing. I suppose I had lived a life of luxury, but nevertheless, to hold a few jewels above your life is a very dire thing.

But of course it might’ve just been a figure of speech. I found that I took words too seriously, being raised from royalty. When I was in the castle even a common joke wasn’t told to us without thorough caution. It was plain silly.

I placed my foot cautiously forward, the sound of dead grass crunching beneath it. The air seemed to tighten as we walked slowly towards the Vine’s Cavern. I glanced sideways at Lance, breathing in just slightly in relief at his intact manner. The setting sun cast a honey colored shine to the side of his face, leaving the other side a contrasting shadow.

His eyes darkened as the door of the building opened, out stepped a man with grime on his hawkish face, running his fingers through his oily hair he grinned at us as we came closer.

Ella came to the front and ran her eyes down the man’s body, stopping for a second at what looked like his beltline. She adjusted her shoulders and ignored him as she opened the creaking, wooden door and ushered us in.

“Did you know him?” I asked once we were inside, though I winced a bit at the abrupt noise surrounding us. Ella didn’t answer as she scanned the room. The reason we were here was because Ella had set up a meeting with a friend of hers.

I wondered just a bit whether a friend would want to meet in a place like this. The room was lit by scattered lanterns, the smell of oil and alcohol was enough to want to hold your nose closed and there was at least fifty people sitting around round tables, talking loudly and spilling mugs of ale.

A few people had looked up from when we walked inside. They gave us dirty or curious glares, sometimes both, but soon enough resumed to their casual banter.  I couldn’t help the think that there were still eyes on us as we walked across the room.

We stopped at the bar and Ella leaned over on the counter, whistling loudly for someone to come. An old man with peppery grey hair who had his eyebrows furrowed so deeply it was hard to see if he even had his eyes open came tromping over to us, his mouth set in a grim expression from what he saw.

“Vincent,” Ella said politely, a note of humor sliding into her voice as she examined the old man.

“What are you doin’ here? Didn’t you stop all that imprudent foolishness years ago?”  He replied, not even glancing at me or the boys.