The High Road (On Hold)

Chapter Seven

          Christelle was sure it was the scream of a man that she heard from the forest. Even the guards had heard it; they were noticeably gripping their weapons tighter, anticipating a fight. Soon enough, they returned to ease. Madewin put her hand on the Princess's shoulder and said "We're almost at the castle, my lady."

The morning was young and the early sun shined low in the sky. Christelle knew they would reach the castle in the morning and did not sleep soundly because of it. There was no practical alternative to her current plight of marrying Prince Edward, so all she could do is suffer in silence.

The great forest around her was thick with the scent of pine. Tall Scots pines and oaks towered above her head, reaching out to the heavens. Dark leaves sailed effortlessly through the morning breeze in the late autumn days.

"I don't think Scotland will be such a poor place to live, Christelle", said Madewin. She only ever used her real name and not a title when she sensed her friend was distressed. "It seems a fair country. I think you will come to enjoy its spirit."

"Doubtful", mumbled Christelle. The Princess would often stay silent and disregard what others had to say when faced with something she did not like, but could not change; this was her way of coping.

"Fear not, Christelle. I am certain that if anyone can make the most of this endeavor, you will."

The Princess lifted her eyes and peered at her friend. Despite her outward appearance, she was grateful for the words of comfort Madewin gave. "Truly I am lucky to have a friend like you", said Christelle, with sincerity.

Although the sun offered little light this early in the morning, the castle could be seen in the distance at the road's end. The large wooden doors stood silent and imposing, sealed tight. The canopy of trees hung overhead until a clearing was reached that led into the gatehouse. Bored guardsmen stood atop the walls. Christelle noticed her guards seemed tenser.

"What's the matter with the men?" asked the princess to her friend in the carriage.

"This is enemy land. Those are enemy soldiers. These knights have been trained to kill these very men that now surround them. I would be tense if I was in their place", replied Madewin.

"Are you not tense now", Christelle asked.

"I am."

"You don't seem it."

"Why should I? The only thing we need tell the Scots here is the marriage arrangements. They need not know the state of my nerves."

Soon the caravan reached the castle gates. The chief guard atop the wall shouted down to them. "Who goes there!" he yelled.

The officer of the dismounted knights guarding the carriage addressed him. "An envoy from the south. We seek audience with Governor O'Connor." The officer took care to mask his English accent with a rugged Scottish tongue.

The wall guard nodded and descended the wall. Moments later, the massive gate creaked open. As soon as the way was cleared, the carriage moved forward into the fortress. Christelle did not dare peek out the window. She only sat with eyes closed, listening to the rhythmic drone of the spinning wheels of the carriage. It was during these times that her mind wandered. She thought of home, London. She longed to meander Farthing Street once more and soak in the urban atmosphere she had known for so long. She missed the uneven cobblestone streets that wound through her city of birth. Tears began to well in her eyes as her mind escaped Scotland and returned home. Her fist clenched tightly; she was sick of crying over her past life and it angered her that she could not return to it.

The carriage halted suddenly and Christelle quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. Her face rose and she saw Madewin peering out the window. "We're here", she said. Christelle nodded and gathered her thoughts. One of the guards opened the door of the carriage and Madewin stepped out followed by the Princess.