The sun was rising. Reidel had stayed awake through the night to watch the sunrise, because it could well be the last one that she saw. Her execution had been scheduled for that evening, so she was making sure that she at least had something pleasant to dwell on for her final nerve-racking hours locked in her cell. Yes, her execution was planned, but she had little intention of actually dieing that night. If what she had in mind paid off, she could be free, in a manner of speaking.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the keys grating against the lock of her door. Her older brother entered with a flourish of his cape, and grimaced at the state of her cell. “Homey.” He said slowly, and leaned against the wall carefully so that he did not stain the stark white of his dress uniform. “You know, I wish it didn’t have to end this way.” He said calmly, looking out the window at the sunrise. “You were supposed to be the most loyal person in the entire kingdom—“

“I was. And I am.” She said sharply, and stood up to look at him without craning her neck. He was only an inch taller than her, but his face bore small scars from the battles he had endured in the defense of Lupine. As the highest ranking general in the kingdom, it was his duty to lead the charge. “And I resent you lecturing me on the day I’m going to die, the least you could do is to say you still love me.” Her brother frowned.

“If I did, I would.” And he turned to go. “For what it’s worth, Mother is doing well. She’ll be back to duty tomorrow.”

“Rissar—“ She started, and grabbed his sleeve to stop him. “You know I would do nothing to hurt our mother.”

“I can’t be sure of anything at the moment. I’ll see you this evening.” And the door slammed on its frame as it came to a close. After she was sure that he was out of earshot, she broke down for the first time in three weeks. She had buried everything on the small hope that she would be at least allowed to live out her life behind prison walls. She was only twenty… far too young to die. Her tunic was stained with sweat from being couped up in her cell for days on end, her pants ripped from being man-handled yesterday when the sentence was announced. Jorn had pushed her so roughly through the door that her pants had caught on the hinge and torn nearly to her hip. And her brother had denied her the one thing she had wanted to hear from him through this mess: that she was not reviled by him. He hated her, just as everyone else now did. There was no one left in the palace, her home, that trusted her any longer.

She had to get away. The real assassin was out there, and she was the only one that believed her own innocence. If she were dead, there would be no one to stop a second attempt at assassination.

She was a good fighter. She knew that instinctively. Fighting was her life. She had been trained from the time she could walk how to handle a weapon. It was her duty, as was every woman in her family, to protect the queen at all costs. She could best most anyone guarding her with little difficulty.

But could she best them all at once? The only way out that was not necessarily suicide was to fight her way to the stable and find her brother’s saddlebags. Her next, and last, meal would be coming around midday. It was her last chance. It would be Jorn. It was always Jorn who brought her food. Yes, Jorn, and he was careless by now since she never fought back, even when he threw punches at her. She still had a bruise fading on her right cheek from the last one. Her mind raced as the plan formulated in her mind, the layout of the palace perfect in her recollection. Where she went after getting away was still a mystery, but that mattered little. She could live through this. Maybe. It all depended on Jorn and his playing along, whether he knew the game was on or not.

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Later that day she was poised next to the door, hidden in the shadows it cast. She could hear the clanking of his armor from all the way down the hall. He was heavy footed and tried to sound more impressive than his slim physique allowed. He stopped at her cell and the lock grated again. “Last lunch huh?” He said, with a twinge of sadness evident “I’m gonna miss you, even if you are a traitor.” The door opened a crack and before it was even six inches she had lunged and grabbed his wrist still holding onto the keys. She pulled him in with her and gave a vicious uppercut to his chin. He collapsed to the floor before he even had time to cry out. He played perfectly.

“Sorry old friend. Hope you still have all of your teeth, but we’re even now.” She left the tray of food with him, it might help his headache when he awoke, and locked the cell, but not before taking his sword. The blade was not of the quality that she was accustomed to, but it was sharp, and that was the important part. “I am a beggar at the moment, so choosing is out of the question.” She muttered, and ran through the corridors, taking back halls and servants entrances, retracing the route she had discovered as a child that allowed her to beat her brother to the courtyard all the time. She had to duck into a closet to avoid being caught by a slave, but that was over in a moment, and was back to sprinting. Her lungs burned by the time she reached the stable, and she could see that there was a guard at the door, which was unusual since the stables were inside the main gate. What she really wanted was a saddle bag with an emergency kit that Rissar always insisted on having ready. She took a moment to catch her breath. But no longer than she had to. Her time was limited, and by now the sun had begun to lower. Jorn was probably awake and had raised an alarm, she hadn’t hit him all that hard.

When the guard had his back turned for a moment to look in at the horses as hers nickered softly, she made her move and ran at him, sword raised and ready to bring down on his head. The man heard her coming and reacted just quickly enough to knock her weapon out of the way with one chain-mailed hand. “You!” He said, and drew his sword, or tried to. She had already closed in and had the hilt of her sword coming towards his head. He dropped like a stone. She took his weapon and noted that it was better than Jorn’s, and stripped him of his belt and sheath so that she could keep her hands free. Jorn’s sword was thrown into an empty stable, and she made her way to Rissar’s horse. The saddlebag was there, and was ready, as she knew it would be. There was a tightly woven blanket that could keep her fairly dry in the rain, as well as some medical supplies and some money should she need them and some salted pork and beef. She tore into a piece of that with gusto and ran for the gate, which was thankfully open for various business transactions to take place within the palace. She was out the side door in moments, and the guards were too busy speaking with a very pretty girl who was probably negotiating a price, and was out and heading to the river. The saddlebag was sealed, but she would still have to hold it and the sword over her head as she fled through the water. She could almost hear the hunting dogs barking on her tail already.

She kept going down the river until she was nearing another village. The scent would have been lost by then, or not at all, and there was no point to she left the water and collapsed on the bank panting for a moment, before continuing on. She would keep going until dark, and find a place in the woods to sleep. As she walked along the tree line, she pulled out the rest of her salted pork and took a large bite out of it, as much as she wanted to devour all that she had, she would need to make that last at least until she found a town to stay that the chances of her being found were slim.

Her best bet was a border town, somewhere isolated enough to be safe, but close enough to the capital that she could go back there if she abslolutely had to.

That night Reidel set up camp in a clearing some ways into the woods. It was at that point that she discovered just how pampered she had been her entire life. She could not even make a fire with the flint she had found in her brother’s bag and the sword she had taken from the guard. Her attempt to make a lean-to was pitiful at best, and she knew nothing about hunting. Her life had been nothing but battle training and learning the ins and outs of palace life as royalty, for that was really what she had been, next in line for possibly the second-most powerful position in all of Lupine. Her father would be turning in his grave right now if he could see her like this. She lay back on her blanket and clutched her sword to her as she fell asleep. The cool steel felt comforting as she dozed. Her senses sharp even as she attempted to tell herself that she was safe from being found, but she could still starve to death. There was always that option.

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Baylova awoke for her second day of hell when her new master slapped her across the face. “Up! Almost time for market.” He barked, and she levered herself up groggily, receiving a kick to the stomach for not moving fast enough. “Now!” He growled at her, his hair falling into his disturbingly handsome face.

The man was known for his good looks, the quality of his merchandise and for his cruelty. Geoph was not a fairy to be trifled with. His wings were not insectoid as was normal for those of his kind from across the sea that separated the lands of Lupine and Cattaci from the mainland. No, his wings were leathery and almost draconic in nature, and when he was irate, as now, they flared and made him look like a fallen angel from the ancient myths. She forced herself to walk faster to get to her place in line as they made their way to the slave market. It was she and the other slaves he had managed to capture from the Lupine raid on her hometown that were to be sold today, yet she could recognize no one, and no one dared speak for fear of being beaten.

Throughout the day, Baylova was poked and prodded on all sides as perspective buyers inspected her to make sure she was what they wanted, as though she were some breed of cattle to be sent to the butcher. Throughout the day she could hear whispers about some sort of event later in the day. It sounded like a public execution from what she could gather, and of someone important too. She could not gather much about what was going on, but apparently all was not well in the Lupine capital, where she and her countrymen were being sold off as the spoils of war.

One older man in particular seemed interested in her, and began negotiating with Geoph as to her price. The malicious fairy wanted a higher price than the man was willing to pay. It almost made her proud, that she would be worth so much, but then her senses got the best of her, and she nearly broke down into tears. She would most likely never make it home. She had heard the stories. The Lupines were a violent people bent on destroying Cattaci for the soul purpose of using her people as slaves and cheap labor to build their grand cities. It seemed pretty clear to the seventeen year-old that the stories were for the most part true.

The day ended up fairly uneventfully actually. Many of her townspeople were sold off the highest bidder, including a girl who was only nine years old to a couple with a child the same age. The girl was to be a gift. Baylova wanted to throw up when that had happened, but the strangest thing happened when the Lupine Army started to go through the market place looking for someone. It seemed (from the snippets of conversation that she could hear over the uproar) that the person who was being executed that evening had escaped. Even the Queen’s personal hunting hounds were released, and led them straight to a river that Baylova remembered seeing as they had approached the city.

Some hours later they had returned, tired and empty-handed. The prisoner had escaped. Baylova thought to herself, and noted that she was at least glad that someone was able to do so, if only she weren't such a coward herself. She marched slowly back to her shack that she and the others were kept in. Her head started to spin as she tried to think of a plan to get back home. But she really did not have anything left there anymore. Her mother had been killed right before her eyes, and the town had probably burnt to the ground. No. It was almost better to give up, at least for now.