First of The Line

A Lesson Learned When she awoke, the gentle breeze of autumn filled Sannil’s senses as she slid from beneath the covers with a shrug. She didn’t mind the cold; it had always helped to wake her in those last few moments before daybreak, when every moment alone was a precious gift. Dashing from her soft cushioned mattress to the window overlooking the forest, the princess made a stunning silhouette. With flowing blonde hair and sparkling bluish-green eyes that could melt an ice flow, it was little wonder that the kingdom adored her so. “What will it be today?” she asked the wind with anticipation, eager to witness the wide array of woodland creatures that had gathered just out of sight. But after straining against the predawn darkness for what seemed like an eternity without witnessing the shadow of a single movement, the princess was forced to admit defeat. She would have to wait. Relaxing her gaze, Sannil’s slender frame eased back inside the chamber and impatiently waited for daylight’s first embers to arrive, nearly exposing the milky-white skin beneath her loose-hanging sleeping robes as a sudden gust of wind buffeted her eyes. Sannil knew there was little chance of the guards catching a glimpse of her supple form within her sanctuary. This place was hers and hers alone. Drawing a deep breath to fill her lungs and clear her mind, the princess couldn’t help but don a childish grin. It was still hard to believe that she had succeeded! Not even the king’s chamber could equal the images that danced just outside her raised parapet. The green carpeted grasses and dense sprawling woodlands that greeted her smiling face each morning were visible from only two locations: the city’s unmanned eastern walls, and her sanctuary within its tower. Princess Sannil loved this place. It had taken nearly fourteen months to convince the king to allow her to take up residence within the massive spire. The old tower stood at the far edge of the city. Though its unused gate had long since been closed, the sparsely populated buildings which surrounded it were still fairly well maintained and created an ideal place for those seeking a quiet, slow-paced existence, or just a place to hide. In this day and age very few travelers had need of the city’s long-forgotten unused resource, and most of those were fully content to utilize one of the other gates to the north or south. Prior to the princess taking up residence, the east tower’s keep had essentially been an abandoned guard barracks, whose main purpose was to act as a command and control facility during times of war. Long ago when the city was built, it had been divided into four main sections for defensive purposes, each fully capable of operating independent of the others. Essentially, the quadrants consisted of north, south, east and west. In peacetime only a small contingent of soldiers manned the remote battlements, and none lived outside the castle’s barracks, save for a few officers and senior enlisted men. LindenWood Castle sat upon a large plateau on the western side of the city where its massive grounds and raised architecture drew awe-inspired gasps from allies and enemies alike. Rising into the air at a height of no less than fifty feet, its pillars seemed to dwarf the ancient city below, with shining spires that served as beacons for wayward travelers to follow both day and night. When fully staffed the stronghold could quarter 50,000 men in comfort, though less than a tenth of that number resided within its polished halls right now. Built with its back atop a jagged set of horseshoe-shaped cliffs, the elevated pedestal fell nearly a thousand feet before meeting the Misty Creek River far below. Together they formed an impenetrable natural barrier that no one had ever breached. In that area, the only safe way to avoid the hand of the river’s deadly grip was via the broad wooden bridge to the south. That avenue would be dismantled long before an enemy force came near enough to cross. “How can my soldiers be expected to perform their duties with you and your wares under foot?” the king had asked when she’d approached him. While everyone knew that the possibility of war was highly unlikely, his statement was true nonetheless. So, instead of debating the validity of such overly dramatic logic, the princess answered her father with an equally undeniable set of facts. “In the event that such a thing does occur,” Sannil began boldly, “I would fully expect to be recalled to the safety of the castle immediately, in which case, our soldiers would be free to use my quarters however they saw fit, without fear of my reprisals or objections!” Yet as sensible as the content of her well-thought responses might have sounded to anyone else listening, her father failed to acknowledge the validity of her summations in the least bit. “Ours is a peaceful and prosperous age,” she added in a final effort to sway him. “Without the slightest hint of war or unrest. Not to mention the fact that the last time anything of importance from a military perspective happened inside our borders was at least twenty-five years ago.” “The protection and well being of every man, woman, and child within the boundaries of our kingdom is my personal responsibility,” bellowed the king in a stiff voice. “It has been our family’s burden for the last seventeen generations, and I will not compromise the safety of even one of my subjects needlessly on my watch.” King Randolph rambled on for what seemed like hours; patiently and uncharacteristically, the little princess calmly waited. In and of itself, that act alone was a huge accomplishment. While the youngest member of the royal family possessed many virtues, patience was not one of them. Listening attentively as her father droned on about the responsibilities of a head of state to his loyal subjects, Sannil somehow managed to contain the barbs of wit that raced beneath her overactive tongue. But when the king finally stopped to draw a much-needed breath, she immediately set about the task of countering his claims in diplomatic fashion, one by one. She’d heard it all before, as it was part of the education she received each day in the library from its elderly custodian, Elias. Elias was a gentle old man who held the patience, wisdom, and insight befitting someone of his advanced years, which was an important prerequisite when dealing with Sannil. She herself had never had the pleasure of knowing her own grandparents, but Sannil felt certain that her grandfather would have been very much like him. On and on, Sannil countered her father’s statements with well-thought-out and meticulously crafted responses, but in the end it appeared that all her efforts were for naught. For what the young princess failed to recognize, was that while King Randolph had uttered a host of objections, he’d held back the one above all else that mattered most. He wasn’t quite ready to let her go. The king enjoyed having his little girl close at hand, and made no secret of the fact that she was the favorite of all his children. Everyone inside the castle knew it without the words ever needing to be said. Everyone that is, except the princess.