Inktober Day 18: Saddle

 Chapter 15

The cloaked men approached Magda and untied her bonds. Wendell, she thought, knew better than to try to break free at this moment, but that did not stop him looking alarmed, staring intently at the men who were working on the knots that bound Magda’s hands. She did not know what he might do if they dared harm her.

After she was untied, the men stepped back. Magda risked a look at Kandra. She was standing a few paces behind Magda and her face was unreadable. She glanced down at the dagger strapped at Kandra’s hip.

“Alright, my lady,” the demon said. “You are free now. Kindly hand over the circlet and we will free your friend.” His face was so strained, he looked like he could not decide whether he was jubilant or anxious. 

Magda took one last look at Wendell and smiled. Then, she raised her hands to her head. She did not see it, but Wendell’s face was more pained than before. She took a deep breath.

Two weeks prior, Magda’s mother had given her this circlet. She told her it would keep her safe. The Power of the King had been handed down through the generations of the king’s family. Some men tried to take it, some kings misused it, but it has also served the royal family, to keep them safe. Her father had given it to her mother when they had wed. It had been his chief responsibility to protect her from harm. When Magda had turned thirteen, her mother had decided it was time for Magda to receive this protection. 

But Magda had not really understood it. How exactly would it protect her? Her mother told her stories about times when it had seemed to guide her to the right place at the right time, or it had calmed a foreign diplomat when negotiations had started to get heated. Magda would not outright argue with her mother, but she had always assumed these stories had been somewhat embellished. Yes, the circlet was a symbol of the king’s protection, and it gave her other confidence to be reminded of her status, but it didn’t really affect anyone directly.

However, after it had protected her at the ambush four days ago, she could not deny that she could feel its presence. It felt like there was someone hovering just above her, watching over her, keeping her safe. Now, she saw how hesitant this monster was to take it from her by force and it seemed to confirm for her that these were no mere fairy tales her mother had been telling her.

So, as she reached for her circlet, as the demon toad leaned forward in his chair, she thought very hard. Hold them back, help us, protect us!

As soon as Magda’s fingers touched the circlet, two things happened at once. An invisible force blew back Kandra and the guards surrounding Magda and Wendell, and tipped the demon’s throne backward, until he was sent careening over the edge of the raised platform, tangling in the tapestries and curtains. The other thing was Magda raced to Kandra, unsheathing her dagger and using it to cut Wendell’s bonds before they could recover. She wondered later whether her circlet had helped her do this as well.

Wendell and Magda could just hear the toad’s gurgling roar of anger as they fled out of the throne room. They raced out of the tower, the way they had come in. On the far side of the courtyard, three horses were stabled.

Wendell pulled Magda over to the stable where they found the saddles hung up on the wall. Wendell made quick work of strapping one of them to the largest horse and hoisted Magda up onto it. 

As they fled out of the courtyard, towards the bridge, they saw an armed sentry in the colors of Tìrmàgach waiting for them at the gate to the bridge. Wendell slowed his horse, considering what to do.

The man looked at them in surprise.

“I warn you not to harm us,” Wendell said. The men looked at each other and then back at them.

“Did you...?” the man said.

“In the name of the king of Tìrcuhachd, let us go at once!” Wendell called out forcefully.

The man immediately began opening the gate. Wendell and Magda simply looked at each other.

“Go,” he said, unsheathing his sword and holding it out to Wendell. “Only, strike me first.”

Wendell hesitated for a moment, but then dismounted and took the man’s sword.

“Why-” Wendell began.

“Strike me,” the man said. “I will tell them you attacked me and took my sword. Now, before it is too late!”

Wendell punched the man in the nose and he fell to the ground, probably harder than was necessary.

“Now go,” he hissed at them from the ground, as Wendell mounted the horse again. They heard sounds issuing from the hall they had just fled and Wendell spurred the horse on across the bridge.