The Skabelse

Blanche

Just as they reached the base of the stronghold, the caravan stopped. Caneo, who was driving the carriage, pulled the reigns to the horses and hopped off of the cart, making his way to the two royals.

He worked on unlocking the gate as Katir and Thorin stood back, waiting to retrieve them.

Rowan felt the cart dip as Caneo hoisted himself up.

"Looks like it's time kids," he said mockingly as he untied Bjorn from the cage. "Where are we?" Bjorn asked, rubbing his wrist once his bounds were off.

Caneo snarled and raised his hand that was now clenched into a large fist, "Keep that mouth shut pretty boy."

Bjorn narrowed his eyes but said nothing as Katir yanked him from the cart. He fell to the ground hard, his chin hitting the cobblestone courtyard. He winced but stood up and brushed himself off as the onlookers laughed at his misfortune. Katir laughed as well, overjoyed that he hurt the Rorik.

Irritation filled him as he thought about what their consequences would be back in Rorik. His men wouldn't dare laugh at him out of respect for their prince and fear. Condescending a Bjorn, his Uncle Marc, or his father would land them a few weeks in the brig. It was rare for any Rorikman to commit a crime as most were good friends and very respectful, but every once in a while there was a thief stealing from the baker or a drunkard slandering the king's good name.

Next Caneo opened the separating wall in the cage and untied Rowan. As the last bound was loosened she let out a small sigh as the pain from her wrists was lifted. He tried to grab her by the arm but she snatched it back and escorted herself form the cart.

As she was about to hop down, Thorin walked over to Rowan and offered her his hand. She eyed it for a moment but decided she would take it, if anything to say 'thank you' for how he had treated her the past few days. Giving that he had been the kindest to her out of the eight men, Thorin was by far the least hated. In the beginning she made a promise to herself that she would hunt down and kill every mercenary that took part in her and Bjorn's kidnapping, but as he helped her down and steadied her she officially marked him off of the list. "Two down six to go," she thought to herself.

Kacper lead the long line of mercenaries through the castle doors with Bjorn and Rowan right behind him.

As they made their way down a large corridor, Rowan couldn't help but notice how plain it was. The walls were bare of pictures and only held lit candlesticks, casting an eerie glow on their faces. It was very opposing to what she was used to, for back in the Glade every corridor was decorated with hand-painted tapestries, tables with books and vases, as well as fine rugs and paintings.

Kacper made a sharp left and knocked thrice on another large wooden door.

"Enter," a loud yet soft voice commanded. Kacper looked back at his companions, then to the royals, and opened the door.

Rowan could fell her heart beat quicken as she strode into the great room. Unlike the barren walls outside, four large banners hung on each wall. She recognized two of them, for they belonged to the kingdoms of Doijar and Gwoirid. Doijar was ruled by a woman called Trista in the south and their sigil was that of a raven, while Gwoirid was ruled by a king whose name she couldn't remember, and their sigil was a large oak tree. Seeing the four banners in one room confused her. Were these kingdoms in some sort of alliance with each other? Men and women? As she looked over to Bjorn she could see he wondered the same thing as well.

The woman on the wooden throne coughed, drawing both of the young royal's attention. Bjorn had almost forgotten that she was even there.

She smiled at the two, letting her eyes linger on the Rorik longer than necessary as she raked his body over. He was handsome indeed. Rowan couldn't help but notice this and a strange feeling washed over her that she had never felt. The only thing she could compare it to was the time Darsa had received a silver blade for training instead using the wooden practice swords. Rowan badly wanted a silver blade of her own for the wooden swords were child splay, even though she was a child herself. She had grown quite jealous of her cousin and remained that way until week slater when she herself was upgraded to a blade. So is this jealousy? If it were, it was an entire new form that she had never experienced.

"Why are we here?" Rowan spat, attempting to gain her attention. She studied the woman and decided though she was up in age she was beautiful. Her dark brown hair was slightly pulled back into a braid as the rest she let hang lose. She had tan skin and wide chocolate eyes. Her lips were full though faint wrinkles littered her face. Even sitting down she could see she was tall and would make a strong warrior.

Blanche slowly looked to the Gladeswaman and smiled. She could already tell that the Rorik was her weakness. "A bit impatient are we?" she practically purred. She studied the faces in the room and noticed one was missing. "And where is Viktor?" She asked, curiously. She hadn't cared too much for him but she had promised Kacper a set amount for their return and she knew it would cause problems once she informed them that she intended to keep his share.

Rowan stuck her chin out, "I killed him." She would not hide it from this woman and was still proud of herself.

"Killed him? Why so?" Blanched asked, quite impressed. She had heard many tales of the Gladeswomen being excellent fighters but this was a feat she wouldn't have thought possible for the princess to be able to complete.

"He tried to rape me so I strangled him," Rowan said victoriously. But even repeating what happened to her almost brought Bjorn to his knees as he replayed the image in his mind of her emerging from the forest looking wild, shirt ripped exposing the beginning of her supple breasts. He closed his eyes and pushed the thoughts from his mind, focusing on the situation before them.

Blanche nodded, a whisper of a smile on her face. She would have done the same too.

"Leave us. Kacper, Bjorn and Rowan may stay," she commanded, clearing the room.

The mercenaries grumbled but did as they were told and waited patiently outside the door until Kacper would retrieve them.

"As you probably know, my name is Blanche and I have 'requested' your attendance before me," she said, clearly taking her time. "You see, I have big plans. Big. But they are going to require a little help. Specifically help from you two," she finished. Rowan and Bjorn looked at each other, then back to her.

"That still doesn't tell us why we are here," Bjorn retorted, crossing his arms. His muscles flexed and Rowan had to control her thoughts as she wanted to feel the familiar feeling of her lips on his.

"Ah, that information you will find out in due time. But in the meantime, I am going to need information from you," she said, pointing her fingers at the two of them. Kacper smile, his job almost done. "If I may, I have some information you might like concerning that," he said in a deep tone.

Blanch raised an eye brow at him, then waved him forward.

Kacper leaned in close and whispered in her ear what he discovered the other night about the two lovebirds, "From my experience they are both rather tough and I doubt any amount of torture will get them to talk. But if you make them watch each other be tortured, I'm sure they would be glad to give you any information you need and more. They are very protective over the other, especially the boy," he finished.

Blanche looked up and studied the two. It was obvious the way they carried themselves that they cared for one another. Bjorn's body was slightly facing the Gladeswoman and she noticed he would glance at her every other moment or so. It was also clear to her than Rowan had gotten jealous when she looked at Bjorn for too long as well.

Blanche sat forward, smiling like a fox, "Yes. Yes indeed."