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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1437832-Hide-and-Seek
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1437832
First chapter of a book I have been writing. Fantasy.
         “One, two, three…”

         Shayla was running as quickly and as quietly as she could. The soft earth was muffling the sound of her footsteps. Good thing, she thought. It was acting as a buffer both for herself and the lumbering man behind her. Tal was a good bodyguard, but he usually ruined her games of hide-and-go-seek.

         “Eight, nine, ten, eleven, …”

         Shayla stopped and looked around her. They had entered a clearing and there weren’t any good hiding places in sight. She stamped her foot in frustration, her hair bounced as it fell upon her shoulders.

         “Thirteen, fourteen, …”

         “Tal! Help! He’s only counting to twenty-five!” Shayla whispered.

         He shook his head. “That would be an unfair advantage, Shayla. Act like I’m not even here.” Tal tried to keep his voice low, but there was just nothing for it. His voice carried.

         She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Yes, I’m sure. I have to find a space big enough for TWO!” She whispered this last word with vehemence. She looked around, biting her lip. “Maybe there.” She pointed to a spot behind him. It was a thicket that looked promising. She beckoned to him and quickly approached the spot.

         “Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one,…”

         She began to crawl into the thicket. Twigs pulled at her hair and clothing, but she continued on. It has to thin out soon. Tal was directly behind her, grunting quietly as he crawled through the squishy undergrowth. “Your mother is not going to like this.”

         “Shhhh. Just keep going.” She didn’t want to think about the look on her mother’s face when she arrived home with her clothing stained and scratches all over her face.

         “Twenty-three, twenty-four,…”

         They had reached the center of the thicket. It seemed to be the center anyway. The branches hadn’t really thinned out, but they had created a kind of hollow in which Shayla felt sure they would not be discovered.

         “Twenty-five. Here I come!”

         Shayla sat very still. There were five others hidden in various places in Sgornya’s forest. There was a chance that she would not be the first one discovered for a change. As they sat and listened, Shayla noticed a bird’s nest overhead. The babies must have been newly hatched because they were making a lot of noise. She saw a fire colored bird alight on the nest and the babies were quiet for a little while as they ate whatever it was that she had brought. Shayla was slightly startled, then, when Tal put his hand on her arm. She looked first to his hand and then to his face. He was tense. Her smile that had formed at the thought of this excellent hiding spot vanished.

         Then she heard it. Footsteps were coming through the forest. They were not the footsteps of Cjeran, who was doing the seeking this time. They were much to heavy for his light frame. It was someone else. That’s what had put Tal on the alert.
As they watched from their hiding place, they saw someone’s legs pass through the path they had recently vacated. Apparently, as they crawled, the thicket had wound its way back along the path they had traveled in on.

         Shayla saw what Tal was planning to do and held on to him tightly. She shook her head at him, but he, ignoring her, leaped out of the thicket onto the path behind the unknown figure.

         “Stop!” He commanded.

         The figure did so. Shayla crawled to the edge of the thicket to better see what was going on. As she neared the edge, she was able to see Tal standing tall in the pathway looking down toward the other person. She craned her head around to see and found the intruder. He was fairly tall, though at least a head shorter than Tal, and he was dressed rather plainly. It was clear that he was a commoner and not allowed inside Sgornya’s forest. How he had gotten in Shayla didn’t know.

         “What are you doing here? Only the royal family and their guests are allowed in this part of the castle grounds.” Tal had unsheathed his sword to add force to his words.

         The boy merely smiled lazily. “I have come to see the king.”

         Tal shook his head. “That may have worked in the courtyard, but no one would have let you in here without the permission of the captain of the guard or the king himself.”

         The boy continued to smile. “I have neither, but he’ll want to see me.”
“Allow me to escort you out and I’ll deliver this message to him.” Tal was standing steady with sword in hand.

         “Oh, he’ll want to hear it directly from me. I would speak with him.” Shayla noticed that the smile he wore did not reach his eyes. They were cold and she shivered looking into them.

         “That,” Tal said emphatically, “is not possible. Please proceed back the way you came. I will escort you out.”

         “I don’t think so.”

         “You think you can best me? I number among the best of the fighting men of Sgornya.”

         “Really?” The boy said in mock surprise. “And you were assigned to leap out of bushes at trespassers? You must have gambled and lost.”

         Tal's cheek tensed, but he said nothing.

         “Unless…” The boy allowed his sentence to trail off as he looked around them. “She is with you.” He said this with a certainty that Shayla did not like. She crammed her knuckles in her mouth to keep herself from making a sound.
“I will not ask you again. Proceed back the way you came.”

         The boy fixed his gaze on Tal again. “I don’t think so. If you are here, hiding in the bushes of the castle’s forest, then the young princess in not far away. I’d wager she can hear me right now.”

         Tal advanced on the boy. But, after only two paces he slowed and, with a look of surprise on his face, stopped completely. His entire body began to tremble as he looked at his hands, amazement all over his face. They were turning his sword over and over. Tal's amazement quickly turned to fear as his hands, trembling, began to turn the blade toward his own chest. Shayla was horrified. “Princess, come out and play.” The boy called softly. “I have your guard here, and he will die if you do not come out.”

         “No, princess.” Tal said. “Run, get away from here.” But surely, she could not! She had known Tal since she was a child. He was her friend. She would not allow it!

         The blade moved toward Tal’s chest and he grunted as the point began to dig in. She saw no other alternative. Shayla leapt out of the thicket with all of her might and tackled the boy. She clawed at his face, punched him with all of her might and bit every part of him she could find. Only his surprise afforded her that chance. He was not much larger than her, but was taller and his large hands closed around first her neck and then her wrists. He pinned her to the ground with his body weight, her hands held firmly above her head. She continued to fight, but the boy squeezed his hand on her throat and she stopped, coughing and gasping for breath.

         His face was very close to hers. She turned away to look at Tal. He was on his knees, the blade had continued its course into his own chest and the tip was completely inside now. It’s progress was slow. The pain was clear on Tal’s face, but he was not making a sound. His concern was only for Shayla who was in the hands of her enemy.

         “Look at me princess.” When she did not he squeezed her neck again. She turned to look into his face, which was uncomfortably near her own. “Good.” He loosened his grip slightly. “You will have to deliver my message for me. You will repeat what I say to your father, agreed?” She looked at him defiantly and gasped at she felt his hands tighten still more. Tal finally let out a groan of pain. She tried to look at him but the boy restrained her. He was clearly looking for an acknowledgement. Finally she nodded slightly, tears began to brim in her eyes.

         “You will tell this message to the king. He must abandon all military efforts in the lands of Euron. They are not rightfully his and we who remain outside of his power will continue to thwart his efforts at advancement. If he does not stop, we will take all that he holds dear. We can do this. You are evidence of that.” He looked into her frightened eyes. “Do you understand this message?” She nodded. “Deliver it. I will know if you haven’t.”

         “Please,” she cried, “let Tal go. I will deliver your message.” She was crying in earnest now.

         The boy smiled at his command over the situation. Inhaling deeply, as if he could smell her fear, he smiled that same, cold smile, and leaned in closer to hold her gaze. His pleasure was clear. “But he is part of the message.” Tal let out a horrible scream and Shayla, beginning to kick and fight anew, heard him fall to the ground with a sickening thud. The boy hit her across the face, hard. Shayla gasped. “Deliver my message.” He looked into her eyes once more, and then, with a flash, he was gone.

         The shock held her where she was. Then the dawning horror of the situation spurred her legs to move to support her. She rolled over, gasping for breath, and saw Tal, face first in the soft ground. Crawling to him, all thoughts of herself gone, she heaved his heavy body on its side. She need not have done so. From the blade sticking out of his back she could have seen that the sword had gone completely through. His eyes were closed and his jaw was slack. Tal was no longer there.

         Shayla remained looking at him even when she heard voices coming up the path. The surrounding trees muffled the cries of her friends as they drew near enough to see what had happened. They pulled her away from Tal and out of the forest. She did not struggle. She did not really know what was going on. She remembered faces, blurs and then her father’s face swam before her. She reached out and grabbed hold of him. Her mouth struggled to form the right words. “It was for you!” she cried. “…all my fault.” Then she collapsed into her father’s arms.
© Copyright 2008 Nadia Gortova (ngortova at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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