Sitnalta (Sitnalta Series Book 1) Read online

  Sitnalta sighed. She had already started; she might as well finish. “King Gerald,” she began, “I am sure that is true. You seem very nice, and I am sure that, had we met under different circumstances, we would be great friends, but I cannot marry you.”

  King Supmylo’s eyes flashed dangerously and Sitnalta shrank under their gaze, but she knew she could not back down now.

  “What I said before about loving you,” she continued, “it was true. I could never marry a man I was not truly in love with. Also, I feel I am too young for marriage. You called me ‘child’ and that is all too true,” Sitnalta got up out of her seat. “I am a child. I would not be a proper Queen for a man such as you. I am sorry.”

  With that, she turned and ran from the dining hall and headed straight for her room. She hoped desperately that her father would be too occupied with the flustered King Gerald to follow her.

  Chapter Five

  Sitnalta slammed the door as she entered her chamber. Aud was sitting there waiting, doing needlework. She put it down when she saw the Princess come through the door.

  “Back so soon?” Aud asked.

  “I do not want to talk about it.”

  “I think you do,” Aud pressed.

  “He wants me to marry King Gerald.”

  Aud pursed her lips in disapproval as she set to work undoing Sitnalta’s hair. She was halfway done when the door to the room was flung open for the second time that evening. Supmylo stood in the doorway seething with rage. He pointed a shaking finger at Aud.

  “Get out!” he growled.

  Aud stood, unsure of what to do. Every instinct in her was screaming that she should not leave the girl with the furious King. But to disobey him when he was like this was akin to death.

  “Leave us,” he repeated.

  Aud cast the Princess a sympathetic look and left the room. Supmylo shut the door behind her.

  “I will not be humiliated like that again,” he said speaking slowly.

  Sitnalta could see the urge to throttle her in his eyes. She forced herself to breathe, trying to still her pounding heart.

  “I will have you go down and apologize to King Gerald,” he continued. His voice was low and threatening. “You will say that you see the error in your ways. You will ask him to accept your apology, and then you will ask him to take you as his wife. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Father,” Sitnalta whispered.

  “Come.”

  Supmylo turned to exit the room, motioning to Sitnalta to follow. She mechanically rose from her seat to do just that, when suddenly, something inside her took over.

  “No,” she said, as she sat back down.

  Supmylo spun around, unsure of what he had just heard. “What did you just say?”

  “I said ‘no.’ I will not go down to apologize. I will not marry King Gerald either. I am not my mother. I will marry whomever I choose.” The words were out before she had a chance to even think about what she said. But she knew that she would never take them back. She knew them for the truth they were.

  Supmylo stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth agape. He could not believe that this girl would have the sheer audacity to speak against him when his word was law. She was his to command, and she would do exactly as he said. He let out his breath, realizing belatedly that he had been holding it, and stared his daughter in the eye.

  “Very well,” he said to her. “Have it your way. The decision rests in your hands. However, until you decide to do things the way I see fit, you shall remain here in your chamber. You shall receive neither food, nor drink. Nor will Aud attend you. When you have changed your mind, just scream, if you have the strength left to do so. Someone will come and bring you to me.” With that, Supmylo swept out of Sitnalta room, leaving her alone with her broken heart and dreams.

  Chapter Six

  Supmylo exited his daughter’s chamber and glared at Aud, who had been standing outside the door listening the entire time.

  “I suppose you filled her head with all that rubbish,” he stated, flatly. “I knew all along it was a bad idea to have you raising that brat. Unfortunately, no one else was around to do it. Under no circumstances are you to enter that room. To do so means your head. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sire,” Aud said. “How long is she to remain in there?”

  “Indefinitely.”

  Aud opened her mouth to ask a question. “Sire—”

  “Are you about to question the way I discipline my daughter?” Supmylo hissed, a vein throbbing visibly in his temple.

  “No, Sire.” Aud said.

  “Then, what is it?”

  “Nothing, Sire,” she said, feigning resignation.

  Supmylo whirled around and marched down the hall. Aud stood staring at the door to Sitnalta’s chamber. She wanted with all her heart to enter and console the young Princess, but she knew that to do so would mean death, and she would be useless to Sitnalta if she were dead.

  Downstairs, Supmylo returned to King Gerald. He sat in his seat once more and resumed his meal as if nothing had even happened. King Gerald gave him a curious look.

  “How is the girl?” King Gerald asked.

  “She will be fine once she understands her place,” Supmylo answered him.

  “She is young and headstrong. Give her time. Perhaps, if I return when she is older.”

  “Nonsense, Gerald. You and my daughter will have a summer marriage. I give you my word,” Supmylo assured him.

  King Gerald looked down at his food. He had seen the look in Sitnalta’s eyes. He knew winning over the Princess would not be easy. He knew that if he ever should marry her, she never would truly be happy. He had been stricken by her beauty when she first entered the room, and desired her to be his Queen, but not at the expense of her happiness. He was torn between honouring the bargain made with Supmylo, and his desire to make the girl happy. His first marriage had also been a political marriage. He and his wife had found happiness with each other in time, and he had mourned her death, but there had been no true love or passion between them. He understood how Sitnalta felt, yet as a childless widow, he needed heirs.

  “Can you promise me she will agree to this without coercion?” he asked. “I would hate for the Queen of my land to be unhappy in any way. It would reflect badly on my kingdom.”

  “Of course, my friend,” Supmylo lied. “My daughter always comes to her decisions on her own. I assure you, the choice rests solely in her hands, and her hands alone.”

  “Alright. I will stay until then,” King Gerald conceded.

  “Let us toast our arrangement.”

  The Kings raised their goblets, and toasted the impending marriage and union of their two kingdoms.

  Chapter Seven

  Sitnalta sat alone in her chamber, unsure of how much time had passed. It felt like days. She was hungry, but worse, she was very thirsty. The only water in her chamber had been in the washbasin, and she’d long since drunk that. But she refused to capitulate to her father’s demands. She occupied her mind inventing stories of how she’d eventually escape from her imprisonment, and live a free and happy life in some neighboring kingdom, where no one would be aware of her identity. This was what she truly wanted, but she did not know how to bring it about. Sitnalta was far too recognizable. She wondered how much longer she could go on before she would give in to her father or collapse from hunger.

  She rose and walked over to her window, pushed it open, and gazed into the night sky, breathing the cool air in deeply, and leaning against the window ledge. She had never felt so alone, never before felt such a longing to be held, to be reassured that things would be all right. She wanted Aud—she wanted her mother—she wanted someone she could trust.

  A nearby movement caught Sitnalta’s attention. To her left, the emerald green ivy that crept over most of the castle fluttered in the breeze. She was watching it sway back and forth, when a wild and reckless thought took hold of her mind. She leaned out of the window as far as she could and reached fo
r the ivy. It was mere inches from her fingers. She stretched farther and farther, but could not grab it. She kneed up onto the windowsill and inched over to the wall, stretching her body out so far out of the window she could just touch the leaves with her fingertips. But she slipped, and nearly toppled into the courtyard below. She clung onto the wall for dear life, shaking with fright and hunger. Then Sitnalta steadied herself and tried again. This time, she managed to reach the ivy. She grabbed hold of the vine and tugged. It held fast. Ecstatic, she climbed back into her room.

  She gathered a collection of her plainest clothes, wrapped a cloak around her shoulders, and was about to exit out the window once more when she remembered Aud. She went over to her bureau, grabbed a quill and some stationary, and dashed off a quick note. She slipped it under her brushes, then headed for the window, climbed onto the sill and leaned out, grasping onto the ivy. She swung outwards, and slowly, carefully, scaled down the castle wall.

  The courtyard was silent, but Sitnalta kept to the edges, so as not to be seen by anyone who might be out strolling in the darkness. She headed in the direction of the orchard and the sheltering trees, where she would be invisible. Keeping to the shadows, Sitnalta raced towards her freedom.

  She stood before the tallest tree in the orchard. It grew up along the wall that fenced off the castle grounds from the outside world. She never dared to cross the wall. She also never before dared to defy her father. Sitnalta began her ascent, finding foot and handholds as easily in the dark as she had during the day. She scaled the tree’s trunk and sat atop its highest bough, looking out into the world as if she had never seen it before. Tonight, Sitnalta would finally be part of a world she’d only dared dream of entering. She climbed onto the wall and peered over the edge at the sheer drop below. She was at least ten feet high, with no conceivable way of climbing down. Sitnalta wondered how she would fare from jumping. She tossed her bundle of clothes down to the ground below, and pushed herself off, trying to aim for the meager pile of softness.

  Chapter Eight

  Aud stood outside the doors to the King’s study, wondering belatedly if what she was about to do was a foolish idea. But it had been six days! She had approached the door to Sitnalta’s chambers many times, only to be hurried along by the guards. Aud knew the Princess could not last much longer without eating. She raised her hand to the King’s door, took a breath, and knocked.

  “What?” The sharp voice came from inside the room.

  “Sire,” answered Aud. “I should like an audience.”

  “I am too busy to see the likes of you,” Supmylo responded, condescendingly. He also sounded irritated.

  Aud opened the door and entered anyway. She flinched upon walking into the one room she’d dared never to enter before, waiting for a sharp retort from the King. But none came. Gingerly, she looked around the room, taking in the wood-paneled walls, which shone from a recent polishing. A thick bearskin rug covered the floor; the head of the unfortunate beast still attached and roaring silently, its sharp canines all but useless. Supmylo sat glaring at her from behind an enormous mahogany desk in front of burnt stone fireplace. The hearth was cold.

  “Sire,” Aud said in a shaky voice. “Sitnalta has been locked in her chambers for six days now. She cannot last much longer, I fear. I do not think King Gerald would be too happy if his fiancé were to die of starvation.” Aud pressed her eyes tightly closed, hoping she did not go too far with that last remark.

  Supmylo’s chair scraped roughly back as he stood. All six and a half feet of him fumed with irritation, but even he could see Aud’s point. He pushed her aside roughly, and headed off down the hall.

  Aud picked herself up and scurried off after the King. She could see he was headed in the direction of Sitnalta’s chamber. It took her three steps to make up for every one his, and in no time at all they stood in front of Sitnalta’s door.

  Supmylo waved away the guards, and thrust open the door. The room was empty. He cried out in rage, and tore the place apart. He smashed the furniture into splinters with his fists, and shattered a mirror with a chair. Feathers flew through the air as he shredded the pillows. Aud retreated into a corner, trembling. The King’s rage was a formidable thing to behold. As Supmylo overturned the bureau, an envelope fluttered to the ground. Aud could make out her name printed across it in a familiar hand. Before Supmylo could notice, she darted forward and snatched it up, tucking it into her skirt. Then, she turned and fled the room.

  Aud hurried down the hall to the servants’ quarters, vaulted up the stairs, and entered her private room, shutting the door behind her. She sat down on her bed, pulled the letter from where she’d hidden it, smoothed it out, and stared at the envelope for a long while before tearing it open. She took a deep breath, and unfolded the letter.

  My Dearest Aud,

  I know you will be upset to find me gone. You must realize that I had no choice. I refuse to be forced into a loveless marriage. This plot of my father’s is the last straw. So, I have to leave. Know that I love you, and I never wanted to upset you. I know that I was not the easiest child to take care of and I am sorry if I was hard on you in any way. I do not know where I am going, but I am free, and this makes me happy. Be happy for me.

  Love always,

  Sitnalta

  Aud finished reading the letter and smiled. She did not know where Sitnalta was, but she knew that the Princess was probably happy on her adventure. She gave a silent prayer that Supmylo would never find Sitnalta, and crossed the room to store the letter in her dresser.

  Chapter Nine

  Sitnalta wandered the woods in complete bliss. She no longer felt the gnawing hunger in her belly. She had eaten her fill of apples and berries, which she’d picked from the trees and bushes around her. She felt as though she had never tasted anything so wonderful. Each one had exploded with a tart freshness across her tongue. Now she was full to bursting. She could not stop the smile that was plastered across her face.

  She’d spent the night curled up beneath a large weeping willow with her cloak spread across her body for warmth. She was glad it had been a clear night. Now, the day had dawned without a cloud in the sky, and she traveled deeper into the forest, not knowing where she was headed, and not caring a single bit. The sun was shining through the trees and warming everything around her. The very air was peaceful and calm. Sitnalta was completely at ease, feeling as if she was the only person on the Earth, yet not feeling the least bit alone. She knew deep down inside that she would eventually have to find somewhere to stay, but for that instant, the thought did not worry her at all.

  Sitnalta spent the rest of the day climbing trees and speaking to animals. She knew they didn’t understand a single word she said, but she didn’t care. She loved her new world. She felt completely at ease. She explored deeper and deeper into the forest; her long rambling path through the trees taking her farther than most Colonodonian subjects ever dared go.

  By sunset, Sitnalta had reached a clearing in the forest where she decided to rest for the night. It was a lovely spot where she could see stars through the trees. She settled in a hollow amidst the roots of a large oak tree. There were tiny flowers peeping through the grass around her, and the air was fragrant with the damp earth and wildflowers. There was a large rock formation in front of her, and she fancied she could see an opening large enough for a person to walk through. She decided to explore it tomorrow when it was light enough to see.

  Sitnalta pulled her cloak about herself, feeling the air take on a bit of a chill, and tried to lull herself to sleep. She began to hum a tune. She felt it rise from the depths of her soul and take off. She put words to it, singing about how free she was, how happy. It became a story: The forest was her kingdom and she its Lady, and she lived there free of the strict rules of the castle. The animals were her friends, and they learned to speak with one another, and created a perfect world.

  ~ ~ ~

  Najort awoke with a start—the dream always ended the same way. The wizard
Kralc spoke to him—telling him things no stranger could possibly know—things about his soul. He said Najort now had a job to do—that he was responsible—he must guard a coin. Then Kralc was gone, and Najort awoke—alone once more—trapped in his solitary life.

  But this time it was different. This time he realized he was not alone. There was someone out there. Someone nearby. He could hear humming.

  At first, he thought it was all in his head. He had been alone too long. He had started imagining things. But this humming—this voice had such a tune! Najort sat back and listened—then came the words.

  The girl (for it was clearly the voice of a girl) sang about his forest! He smiled as she wove every tree, rock, and flower into her song. It became a story, and he could clearly see in his mind’s eye the kingdom she was singing about. He closed his eyes, and shared her dream.

  Then, as abruptly as it started, the music stopped. Najort longed to go out into the forest and find this girl who had been singing so sweetly. But for the first time in his life he was acutely aware of what he was—a troll. He knew that if he went out there to meet this voice, she would run away in terror, and he would not let that happen. So, Najort sat in his cave determined to remain as alone as he had always been.

  ~ ~ ~

  Morning dawned brightly, and Sitnalta awoke warmed by the Sun. She yawned, stretched, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The novelty of waking outdoors still amused her and she smiled to herself. She rose and set about finding some breakfast. Sometime later, and stuffed with berries, Sitnalta returned to the clearing. She had left her things under the oak, and was about to collect them and continue further into the forest, when she remembered the opening in the rocks from the night before. The urge to explore it came over her again. Sitnalta approached the rocks completely without fear. As she got closer, she realized that the opening was, in fact, the entranceway to a cave.