Yazmin's POV
The bright sunlight breaks over the mountain peaks, shining into my tent. I brush my fingers over my lips, remembering what almost happened last night with Louis. The butterflies had returned, and the whole world froze. His eyes were the color of the ocean, stormy, yet calm. Fierce, but loving.
A shout from outside shakes me out of my reverie, and I turn to pack my bag. My nightgown is white linen, shaped like a box. It has a drawstring tie at the top, but other than that, it looks like a pillowcase. After 5 minutes, I go pack up my tent, which is only a string tied between 2 trees and a tarp thrown over it.
My clothes are simple, a red undershirt, a brown shirt that laces in the front, with puffed cap sleeves, and tucks into my pants. My pants are a wool underlayer and a brown linen overlayer. Nothing special, but it lets me move while still keeping me warm. I tie my hair back at the nape of my neck, mostly to just keep it out of my face. A few stubborn curls hang in front of my forehead, but I don't waste time trying to pin them back. People hurry around, packing everything up. We have 6 days left to march, and we can't waste any time.
After 6 days of marching, we reach Zione. Smoke rises up from the city, which is weird because Isla got here over 2 weeks ago. "They're burning their dead," Louis explains. I turn to look at him, the fear clearly visible in my eyes. He brings his horse right next to mine and gives my hand a squeeze. "You'll be okay," was all he said.
The closer we get to the city, the better I see what awaits us. Catapults are set up in front of the city wall, and foot soldiers in front of them. I have no doubt archers are lined up on the wall. Lord Aerin's forces met up with us yesterday, and we now have about 17,000 soldiers. It will be a close fight.
We stop in the grassland in front of the city. The ground is still stained with blood. The air weighs heavy on my chest, and for a moment I can't breathe. This is what battle looks like. "Look." Louis points, dismounting his horse. I dismount mine and follow him. He finds a lone pink flower sticking up amongst the carnage. "It survived," he says, picking it and handing it to me.
"It's an azalea," I whisper. "My mother wanted to name me Azalea, after the flowers that grew at her windowsill."
"I think Yazmin suits you much better." He wraps his hand around mine, and we lose ourselves for a moment. "Look, Yazmin, we never talked about that night."
I straighten up, removing my hand from his. "It happened. But we need to focus on right now," I explain. He looks at me in understanding.
"Do we fight now, or rest a little?"A general asks my uncle.
"Rest. Neither of us can gain any forces, so we might as well," Horatio answers.
"But we lose the element of surprise," The general argues.
"Look at that city," he says, pointing his arm towards the city east of us. Princess Isla has her armies prepared, and they have been prepared for weeks. We never had the element of surprise to begin with." He turns to face the armies. "We rest here tonight, and attack tomorrow," He shouts
"What if we're attacked in the night?" someone asks.
"We set up a watch. Isla knows that it would be most beneficial for her to attack in the day."
No one slept that night.
In the morning, drums wake me up. I put on my underclothes, a wool tunic, pants, and socks. I strap on the iron guards over my thighs and calves. My chainmail tunic sits at my collarbones, and covers my arms, falling to my hips. A band of small metal plates wraps around my back and stomach. Light enough to run, sturdy enough to protect me. My shield and spear are lying on the floor next to where I slept, and I take them in my hands. They feel foreign, like a Lady on a battlefield. This is all wrong. I shouldn't be here.
"My Lady?" Someone asks outside the tent.
"Yes?"
"Lady Sylvia asked me to braid your hair," she explains.
"I'll be right out!" I take one last look at my tent. It's only 6 feet long and 4 feet wide, but it has come to feel like home. Taking a deep breath, I go to get my hair braided.
"You ready?" Louis asks.
"Ready as I'll ever be," I answer. My hair is in box braids that fall to the bottom of my shoulder blades, and his waves are hidden under a helmet. As a spearman in the backlines, I don't get a helmet, but since I won't see much action, I don't think I'll need it. Louis's armor is heavy, with a full chest plate, and metal covering his entire body. The only visible part of him is his face, but that will soon be covered.
"If things get bad, I'll come looking for you. Don't leave the backlines." I nod, and he runs off to the front.
A horn sounds, and the frontlines of each side charge at each other. A rain of arrows falls down on us, but hey don't reach the backlines. The catapults start launching, and a boulder lands about thirty feet away from me.
A boy behind me screams. "Are you okay?" I ask.
"Yes, my Lady. Just a fire arrow, that's all," The boy rushes to explain. I stomp on it to put the flame out.
"You don't need to call me 'my Lady'. Yazmin works fine," I tell him.
"Yes, Lady Yazmin." I sigh.
"How old are you?" I ask.
"Just turned sixteen." He's a kid. "Out of curiosity, how old are you?"
"Eighteen, almost nineteen. Actually, my birthday's about now," I tell him.
"Well then, happy birthday. Don't die."
"Thanks."
"I meant to say that there are 5 people charging at us," he says as he points behind us. I whip around and see 5 soldiers clad in leather running at us. They bear the wheat crest of Esta. I grip my spear and thrust it towards one. It skewers him right in his stomach. Perfect shot.
I just killed someone. I just killed someone. The words pound in my head as adrenaline takes over. Another falls, and the boy has taken out another 2. The fifth one rams the butt of her sword on my wrist, causing me to collapse. I desperately reach out for my shield and raise it just as she swings down on my chest. The impact vibrates through me, and a fire erupts in my wrist.
"Ah!" I groan. The point of a spear pokes through her chest, and she falls away, revealing the boy. "Thanks for that." He nods, then goes to stab more people. I ground myself, then join him.
Thrust, dodge, block, repeat. The dance continues. Something hits my shoulder, but I can't feel it. Instinct has taken over, and my brain is on overdrive.
"Yazmin!" someone shouts. I whip around, but I don't see anyone, so I keep fighting. An arm wraps around me and drags me away. I thrust my spear back into them. They grunt and release me. "Yaz, it's me," Louis sputters.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," I cry.
"Relax, it didn't draw blood. I will have a bruise, though." He takes my hand in his and we run to the woods. Our horses are ready to ride, so we mount them and hurry off. I know a town about 150 miles away, and it takes us a little over 3 hours to get there.
YOU ARE READING
The Queen of Luania
Fantasy"A weak Queen is a dead Queen" When Arabella became Queen of Luania, she thought it was all ballgowns and dancing. 4 years later, she has learned that it is quite the opposite. As she and her allies play a complicated game of love, hate, peace, chao...
