The High Road (On Hold)

Chapter Five

          "He cannot do this, Madewin! He cannot leave home for his war in France then return and command me to marry a man I don't even know! I will not be his pawn!"

The princess could only confide these feelings in her best friend. No one would understand the way Madewin would.

"My lady, you cannot disobey a direct order from the king, even if he is your father. I know this is unjust of him to require this of you, but ladies of the court are bred for this very reason. I have done my best to prevent this kind of measure from taking place, but there is nothing I can do to stay the king's hand in this matter", said Madewin, doing the best she could to comfort her dear friend.

"If this is my lot in life, I'll have none of it!", yelled Christelle, furious with her father. "He will not make me go to Scotland and marry some boy-prince too young to even have his first chin-hairs!"

"Prince Edward is the son of the king. He will have authority and power and you may even become Queen of Scots. Malcolm has only one son, his only heir to the throne. You will aid in the continuation of a proud nation of warriors. Does that not offer some comfort in this plight?" Madewin asked, with genuine inquiry.

"Let some other court lady marry Edward! He has been no father to me even after mother died in labor. Why should he have the right to ask this of a daughter he does not even love?"

There was, however, no disobeying the king. Christelle was to travel to Inverness to meet with King Malcolm in secret. The only ones who knew of this daring diplomatic mission were the English king, Christelle, Madewin and the members of the dismounted knight unit charged with escorting Her Majesty to castle Inverness. The next day was spent in bitter preparation for the long trek north. It would take about five days for the caravan to reach Inverness. The king was scheduled to arrive before the princess, if King Godwine's spies' information was sound.

Perhaps the only bit of good news the princess received was that she was permitted to bring Madewin with her on the journey to Inverness.

"Why is the king not at Edinburgh? Is that not the capital of Scotland?" asked the princess.

"It is, my lady. But our spies report that King Malcolm is travelling north to inspect his northern castles and ensure public order in his regions. He is unaware that the English princess will soon be meeting with him." Madewin did her best to provide her friend with comfort and answer any questions she had.

"Surely a caravan guarded by heavily armed English knights will attract the attention of the Scots in the area. We're sure to be spotted and reported to the nearby settlements. They may even send soldiers to attack the caravan and hold us at ransom!" exclaimed Christelle with an alarmed tone in her voice.

"The knights travelling with us will not wear English armor. They will appear as independent warriors guarding any other Scottish noblewoman. Our carriage will not even fly English colors", retorted Madewin. "We will take every precaution to ensure your safety, my lady."

Finally, the great and dreadful day arrived. The princess could not sleep the night prior to their departure. This is all some foul dream the Devil has sent me, she thought as she lay in bed. Surely I will soon wake up from this nightmare and all will be well again. But she did not wake, as this was no nightmare. Dawn broke and destiny beckoned. She took one final stroll down Farthing Street and relished in the familiarity of it all. There was a chance she would never see her home of London again, if marriage to a Scottish prince was her place in life. The carriage arrived at the city gates, two dozen soldiers dressed in the simple garb of mercenaries waited outside.

"It is time, Christelle", Madwein calmly said to her friend.

The princess breathed a deep sigh. As the Lord stands witness, she silently promised to herself, I will walk these paths again.

As her foot stepped onto the carriage, tears began to well in her eyes. Her life was about to change in a way she never thought it would. A warm hand found its way to the young woman's shoulder. Madewin sat next to her dear friend, her 'little sister'.

The path to Inverness was rocky and riddled with sloping hills. Often Cristelle and Madewin would fall to the back of their one-room home when a steep incline was made. There was, however, something charming about the deep green fields of the Scottish Lowlands. They were nothing like the bustling avenues of London she had become so accustomed to. Mysteries of druidry and mirth lay hidden in the wooded forest halls. The ancient Scottish spirit flowed freely through the land even to the time of the princess's journey. The Old Gods of ancient pagan belief may have been almost entirely abandoned, but their presence could be felt in the way the land spoke to the free of heart.

Every so often they would pass a small village or farming hamlet. Quaint villagers laid their eyes upon the life they coveted so greatly: the life of nobility. Christelle always drew the carriage window curtains back when they passed any form of civilization. This did not take away the feeling of being watched, however. Several days of rolling hills and old woods became their journey.

"My lady, the castle is not a far way off from here", said Madewin one late evening. "We will be at our journey's end tomorrow morning."

"Off to do father's bidding, like a good little slave-princess", replied Christelle, her thoughts on home.

The carriage driver said they would know they were almost there by the great forest near the castle. The pathway led through the woods and ended at the castle gatehouse.

Not much farther now, Christelle pondered. She remembered her promise from when she left London: As the Lord stands witness, I will walk these paths again.