The Scaleless Chronicles

Chapter 2

Thomas looked down at the slender figure beneath him. He let his gaze travel up her body, starting at the now-muddied hide shoes. Above that were trousers that covered what he knew were deceptively pale and shapely legs. A long tunic, covered in various splotchy hues of brown and green, covered her torso and thighs. He paused briefly at her chest, perplexed, before forcing himself to continue up to her face. Though it was partially covered with a hood that obscured her hair, he knew it was a beautiful face, well-sculpted and obviously aristocratic, but no one would be able to guess that from its current appearance. It had mud and paint covering it, similarly to the tunic he had just surveyed. All in all, the costume was impressive, and it had worked; she had been invisible in the forest until she had abandoned stealth for speed. In spite of this, the thing that impressed him most was the haughty, untamed glare that she had fixed on him this entire time. This was expected, but he still wished that once, just once, she would allow him more than a split second of fear in her eyes. Alas, his quarry was the most proud-spirited lady in the kingdom, and Thomas knew she would not grant him that satisfaction unless she was no longer able to withhold it. Therefore, he pushed this thought aside and began the task at hand.

Keeping his eyes locked on hers and watching for any sign that she had escape in mind, he slowly rose, effortlessly bringing her up with him. When they were both standing, he brought her very close, pinning her against his body with one arm while with the other hand he pulled a small bag out from beneath his undershirt. From the bag, he took a length of strong cloth and she finally broke the defiant stare to roll her eyes. Heaving an exasperated sigh, she spoke for the first time since her capture. "Is that really necessary? I promise not to run." With this, she looked up at him through her lashes and gave him a most innocent look, but Thomas wasn't convinced.

"Oh, come on! That may have worked the first time, but I'm not an imbecile!" With a smirk and a jerk of his head, Thomas indicated that the girl should turn around. Knowing the drill, the prisoner turned slowly away from her captor, crossed her wrists behind her, and waited. With a satisfied grin, he released her and bound her wrists securely, then placed his hand on her arm. "We'd better get started. My brother will expect us back by now." Thomas set off, whistling and grinning jauntily in turn. After about a quarter of a mile, they came to a road, and upon turning a bend, they could see quite an unusual sight.

There was a hay-wagon in the green to the side of the road. There were no farmhouses or even shacks anywhere as far as the eye could see, and no hay in said wagon. Instead, the wagon was decorated with royal blue streamers and regal purple banners, the latter of which were edged in gold and bearing the royal crest. There seemed to be a sort of makeshift tent in the wagon, ablaze with the same colors as the decorations. Surrounding the wagon were all manner of footmen, servants, heralds, young noblemen, and peasant folk. Most people were hurrying busily about preparing something, apparently bringing small tables, chairs, food baskets, tablecloths, tableware, and flagons out of the forest. Those who were not bustling were watching the road with eager fascination or leaning lazily on whatever was available. Thomas spied one poor lad who was cursed with unnatural height, meaning a complete lack of it. He was standing uncomfortably as two young noblemen chatted next to him, one of whom using his head for an elbow-rest. Thomas took note of his appearance so that he might reprimand the lad later. He believed in treating everyone well, and it would do everyone well not to forget it.

Very soon, someone noticed their approach and a shout went up. The chaos increased so that by the time captor and captive arrived, indeed, a whole break-fast had been set up in the field. Thomas's mouth watered at the sight. Beside him, a low growling sound came from the girl's stomach, betraying her hunger to him. He led her up, amidst much noise, mostly cheering with some booing mixed in, and came to a stop before the tent. The cheering rose to a frenzy, then fell quiet as soon as two footmen stepped up on either side of the wagon. The crowd was now deathly silent. The footmen, very slowly and grandly, undid the fastenings on the tent curtain while the Heralds announced in unison, "The Hunter hast returned! Glory to Attias! Glory to Thomas, Hunter Triumphant! Now, all must kneel as the curtain is drawn back and the face of His Glorious Majesty Reuben, Lord of Westernbrooke, Master of Grants County, and Heir to the throne of the Immortal Rex Attias, is revealed!" This last word was thundered with all the grandeur and solemnity of the gods of the pagans. It was all Thomas could do to maintain his grave countenance as he sank to his knees, pulling the girl down with him. The heralds, now silent, dropped to their knees as well, and the two footmen drew back the curtain and revealed the face of the great man for which all this fuss was being made.