"Kind Miss Arabella told me to give this to you, she did. Oh, and the berry bush said to tell you she hopes you can stop the war. Many of her sisters were trampled to death by the army." His bony hands offered Dillon the plate, and one glance at it made Dillon realize how famished he was.
"Thank you, Gerard, is it?"
The skinny man nodded with a great grin that made the pointiness of his chin stand out. With every knuckle, joint, and bone appearing unusually knobbly, Gerard looked as though his entire person could have been carved of wood.
Dillon looked the half-nymph over as he ate. "So... the plants talk to you."
Gerard bobbed his head like an acorn on a river. "Yes, but what kind of a person would I be if I didn't talk back?"
Dillon raised an eyebrow and chose not to answer, though Gerard looked completely as though he expected one. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Oh, not long. Two or three days is all."
Dillon scoffed. "Not long, two or three days?"
Gerard nodded and looked at Dillon as though Dillon were sprouting roots. Then he blinked and laughed. "Forgive me, Sir. I forgot for a moment that time is much more precious to humans than plants. How silly of me! After all, when one has centuries two or three days is just a moment."
Dillon was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable in the presence of only a short green man, and finished off his meal in a hurry. He stood with a stretch, trying his legs. "Where is Arabella?"
"Sweet Miss Arabella is tending to your horse, I believe. She said she wanted to get some fresh air, although I don't understand why the air there is any fresher than the air here." He looked quite puzzled for a moment, but then gave it up with another great smile. "Nevermind. Dearest Miss Arabella knows best."
Dillon picked up his shirt and pulled it over his head, noting that not only had the blood been cleaned but that it was quite soft and smelled faintly of lavender. "Thank you for the food. I think I shall go and find her myself."
He walked to the other side of the room and picked up his sword, fastening the belt around his waist before he walked out the door. Having his sword at his side had become more for his own comfort than for protection.
Dillon took a deep breath as he exited the little house and looked around. They were at the top of a forested hillock. There were plenteous meadows between the trees, and Dillon could see the road at the bottom of the hill, and a village in the distance. He turned around to gaze up at the towering tree whose roots formed Arabella and Gerard's home. The morning sun made the air feel light and carefree. The edges of the leaves had just begun to turn orange and yellow, signalling the end of another beautiful summer.
Dillon felt almost peaceful as he let out a low wistle. A moment later Perisseus' anxious nicker replied, and Dillon set off toward it through the trees. He didn't have to go far before he emerged in a clearing where Perisseus and Arabella were waiting. Arabella seemed almost too bright to gaze at as she stood beside the infinite blackn of Dillon's trusted warhorse. Her lithe hand held Perisseus' bridle, though his saddle leaned against a tree. She smiled when she saw Dillon, and let go of Perisseus' rein so the animal could approach its master.
"You're feeling better, I presume." Arabella's voice sounded just as beautiful as Dillon remembered, though for a moment he had thought her a dream.
Dillon nodded as he rubbed Perisseus' soft muzzle. "Yes, much." He ran his fingers through his horse's forelock, tugging out the knots. After Perisseus felt he had paid his dues, he turned to resume cropping the sweet grass. Dillon cracked a small, bitter smile. "He seems to like it here."
"He likes it much better having seen you alive and well. I've never seen such a loyal creature, save Gerard." Arabella walked forward to stand at Dillon's side.
Dillon nodded vaguely. "We've been through much together. I've raised him since he was only a week old, his mother killed in battle."
Arabella looked up at the rough-hewn exiled prince. "And what of your mother, Prince of Reun?"
Dillon remained silent for a moment, and then shrugged. "I don't remember her. She died when I was still very young.... Perhaps that's why Perisseus and I have such a bond."
"Perhaps.... But you are not an orphan. You still have a living father to speak of."
Dillon snorted and rolled his eyes in disgust. "He's hardly a father. A father so weak he's being controlled but doesn't even know it. A father who's sending thousands of men to their death, robbing thousands of children of their fathers. Maizus will scrounge up what power he can gather, but when spring comes, he plans to lay waste to Gielkern. Gielkern's armies are stronger than any others, but they will not expect an attack from such a close ally as Reun."
Arabella pursed her lips and watched the large stallion as he grazed. "What will you do now, then? Maybe you cannot stop him."
Dillon narrowed his eyes, the tense muscles in his face evidence of his determination. "I will raise an army of my own. Outlaws: thieves and murderers if I have to. But I believe there are many of the people of Reun who will fight with me to regain control of our kingdom. I just have to get to them before Maizus does."
Arabella laughed bitterly. "Then you are a fool. What chance has a tattered army against Maizus and his magic? You will all be slaughtered."
Dillon gave her a sharp look, and shot a question back at her. "And when did you become so heartless? The stories the villagers brought were of a kind woman, full of sympathy and willing to help. I see none like that here."
Arabella's brows knit as she glanced up at Dillon, but her gaze quickly fell to the forest floor and she turned away. His words cut her to the core. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. "When Maizus took all that I held dear."
When he saw the look in Arabella's eyes, Dillon felt a twinge of remorse at his accusation. He took a deep breath and gazed through the trees as he let it out. "Many more will have their families ripped to shreds before Maizus is through. If I must die in the attempt to stop him, so be it. At least I will be free of the thousands of souls that will suffocate my concience if I don't try." Dillon turned to walk back to the house beneath the tree, leaving Arabella in the silence of her thoughts.
Why, when she had been perfectly content to let the world kill itself, had fate brought the Prince of Reun here to thrust her back into the middle of it? With a soft groan, Arabella sank down to lay against the trunk of a tree. She pressed her hands to her face as if to force the tears back in, and let out a shaky breath.
"Oh, Mother," she whispered. "Help me know what to do." She let her hands fall into her lap, and felt the breeze caress her face, drying her tears. She opened her eyes to look towards the patches of sky visible through the trees, and let the wind carry away her worries.
What would her mother do, if she were here? What would her mother say? Arabella squeezed her eyes shut and tried to picture her mother's face. That kind face. That beautiful face.
Something rubbing against Arabella's head made her jump, her eyes opening with a start. But Perisseus was even more startled than she was. He tossed his head back, some of her hair caught on his lip. Arabella laughed softly and reached up to stroke the horse's cheek as he lowered his large head once more. That was the answer.
"But Sir, you're not leaving now, I hope? It's only been a few days, you're not all well yet!" Despite his own voice, Gerard was busy filling Dillon's pack with all sorts of healthy food.
Dillon sighed as he sat in the living wicker chair, sharpening and polishing his sword. "I need all the time I can to gather forces against Maizus. If Arabella will not help me, then my time here is of little use."
"Maybe sweet Miss Arabella just needs some time, Sir. Some convincing, while you're gathering your strength?"
Dillon opened his mouth to protest just as Arabella walked through the door. Gerard looked up and quickly abandoned his task, running to her side.
"Dear Miss Arabella, tell him he ought not to go yet! He still lacks strength, don't you think?"
Arabella looked from the small green man to the prince. She thought for a moment before speaking. "No, he shouldn't leave yet...."
Dillon frowned as he watched her, his brow furrowing.
"But it has little to do with his health. Prince Dillon should plan his strategy and what he'll do next before he runs off to gather more power."
Dillon snorted and returned to running the rough stone along his blade. "What does it matter to you?"
"If I am going to fight for a cause, I will not have it be in rashness."
His hand stopped midstroke and Dillon looked up once more. He studied her face: her eyes were set like a falcon's before a making a fatal strike. He could see the solemnity of her decision, and felt the flame of purpose flare as he rose to his feet. "You'll help me, then?"
Arabella offered a hint of a daring smile and nodded. "Yes. I will help you reclaim your throne, Prince of Reun. I will help you so I can make sure Maizus hurts no more the way he has hurt me."
Gerard stepped between the two. "Should I prepare three packs, then?"
Arabella looked down at Gerard. "You don't have to come, Gerard. I know you're happy here."
Gerard shook his green head. "I am happiest where you are, loving Miss Arabella."
Arabella smiled and nodded. "Three packs, then, Gerard."
Gerard beamed and bobbed his head, scurrying off to load all the food he could into satchels.
Dillon sheathed his sword. "The village down the hill. Which is it?" He started towards the door as he waited for an answer.
"Iyms, but why?" Arabella stepped out of his way, watching him.
"Just wait here. I won't be long, and then we can make our plan." Without another word he strode off through the trees.
True to his word, Dillon returned less than three hours later. As Arabella helped Gerard to pack what little they had, she heard Perisseus' heavy footfalls outside the house. Leaving Gerard at his work, she went out to meet Dillon. Just as she crossed the threshold, the great black horse came into view, Dillon upon his back. But a moment later the head of another horse materialized behind him.
Dillon pulled Perisseus to a stop near Arabella and slid off the horse. From the back of Perisseus' saddle he untied the lead of a beautiful white horse. Perisseus made the new horse look slim and fragile; a horse built for speed and agility, not for battle. Upon the horse's back was a comfortable saddle covered in pale blue velvet, fit for a queen.
Arabella reached out to stroke the horse's face as Dillon led it to her. "How did you get it?"
Dillon stepped back to admire the horse as well. "From a friend. Do you like her? She reminded me of you, somehow. I thought you should have her."
Arabella looked up at Dillon. "Me? But why? I cannot pay you for her."
Dillon scoffed. "I don't need to be repaid. Consider it a gift in return for my life. Besides, you'll need a way to travel." He dropped the horse's lead and began untacking both horses, setting the contrasting saddles against the root wall of the house.
Arabella pursed her lips as she watched the rightful prince of Reun fondly care for the two beasts. When he was finished, Perisseus led the way to a nearby clearing, his wavy tail flicking flies from his flank. The white mare followed. Dillon hung the bridles on a sufficient knot in the wood and straightened.
"Well," Arabella began softly. As Dillon turned to her, their eyes met. "Thank you, Prince of Reun."
Dillon gazed unflinchingly into her eyes for a brief moment before responding. "It's Dillon. And you're welcome, Healer of the Forest." The corner of his lips twitched, and Arabella thought he might smile. "Now, let's get to that plan you're so keen on, shall we?"
Any trace of a smile left as he turned and entered the small house once more. Brushing at the faint pink glow she could feel at her cheeks, Arabella followed him.
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