The Princess of Herbia

Chapter 1

It was not the sounds of mama and papa's hushed argument over food or the sounds of my brother's play fighting in the garden that awoke me, but the sounds of my own stomach's moans of hunger. Wide awake now, I ignored my stomach's loud demands and focused on other things to distract me- like I always did. Swinging gracefully over the bed my papa once made for me and my brother's long ago I had a sudden longing for a new one, for all three of us had outgrown the small bed and we found ourselves often wakened with a greeting from the wooden floor. However, as soon as the thought entered my mind I berated myself and sent a few words skywards for my thanks of what I have.

Smiling, I creeped up on my mama and papa, slowing my steps to the tempo of their speech.

"Gracious Malaki what have you done? Do you know not of the small money we have left, because I tell you now we cannot afford to pay these people back and you know of what happens to those that do not!" My mama whispered angrily not seeing my approach, she flipped her long auburn hair which was greying fast from her face. She moved towards a piece of stale bread and picked it up with a bony pale hand in front of my papa's face. Before she could say another word my papa interrupted and I knew to make my entrance.

"I had no choice Celia! Without food we will-". My papa stopped talking as I entered the small room in which my papa had also made to the specifications of my mother. It had five worn chairs circling a wooden table in which we prepared and ate our food at- that was whenever we were fortunate enough to have food.

I placed a well-practised smile on my face and kissed my papa, then mama on the cheek. They soon mirrored my expression and my mama offered me a piece of the stale bread, and the grimace my papa made did not escape my notice. I denied, ignoring the angers of my stomach claiming I was stilled filled from the night before. This though was impossible, since I only ate a slice of cheese for the duration of the day. Before my mama could sort out truth from lie I said a farewell, longing to join in on the games my brothers played. Shutting the half on/half off door I adventured down by the lake in hopes of seeing where my brother's had rushed off to.

I soon found them in combat. My eldest brother of eighteen, Maliant, was of a towering height with brood shoulders, clearly he had inherited my father's blond curled hair and it reached just short of his shoulders. My brother wielded the stick from a harmless tree without mercy at my younger brother. Dalion who was just turning fifth teen barely reached his shoulders and the resemblance between them was undeniable, for he too had inherited my father's features. However, unlike Maliant's blue eyes, Dalion had the green eyes of my mama. Dalion was blocking Maliant's attacks off but was soon tiring as the sweat soon mounted his face.

Deciding against seeing Dalion lose, which would send a blow to his pride, I bent to pick a fallen stick from the grassy ground and leapt into action. Jumping into the mist of war I gave a battle cry in the name of Herbia and started to attack Maliant with calculated hits. Years of practise against my brother's would never have prepared me of the betrayal unfolding before my eyes. Dalion turned on me. Maliant's eye's twitched with humour. I knew then that they had planned this prior to my arrival. They wanted to beat me at my own game.

I smile floated on to my lips as Dalion made a see able move. I ducked his hit and poked him lightly in the heart, with a dramatic "No" he fell to the floor and twitched his leg. I laughed and in that moment of my eye's being elsewhere Maliant made his move. He kicked my feet from under me sending me toppling to the ground. I lost my weapon. It lay inches from my hand, but it was too late. Maliant had his weapon pointed at my throat.

"Any final words dear Talitha?" He looked so boyish, so young as he swept his hair to the side with a triumphant smile on his lips. His battered clothes had so many holes in and different mismatches of fabric to hold them together that if any other person were wearing them they would look ridiculous. However Maliant was confident and undeniably handsome and any other clothes would look foreign on him:  his clothes suited that handsome face.

"Yes. Never linger darling brother." And with that I grabbed the wrist which held the stick and by surprise alone I had managed to startle my brother and the stick was mine. I didn't hesitate to prod his heart, a bit more forceful than I had with my younger brother. Then he to rolled his eyes and fell to the ground, only a little less dramatic than Dalion had done.

After a few more battles the day grew dim and my brothers and I decided to retire for the day. Arguing on the way back over who won the last game we entered our small little wooden house, which did not emit exciting smells of food such as few houses did, but it smelled of lavender: my mother's favourite flower which always seemed to be present. But this was home, and my mother never forgets to tell me that home is always a place in which love would prosper over all. I believed every word.