Bandit Run

Sophia sighs as she watches the trunks being loaded on to the wagon. She turns and looks over her shoulder, and the grey stone of the castle rising up behind her. She wasn't sure she was going to miss it. It wasn't home, and hadn't been since she had arrived seven years prior after the death of her parents. Her uncle had become king and her 'guardian'. Now she was being shipped off to be married to a man, who by all accounts, was as loathsome as her uncle. It was not a prospect she was looking forward to, but she had very little choice in the matter.

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The ride is a long one. She is stuck in a small, wooden box on wheels, with her lady-in-waiting, who wasn't even hers, but a dour-faced old lady sent by the Prince Von Urich to accompany her back, replacing her dear, sweet Greta. And the knights were a mix of her uncle's and Von Urich's, as well. She felt very much alone, and spent most of the time curled up on the cushions in the swaying coach, trying to sleep. She had found a crack in the wood sides, and if she laid just right, she could see a sliver of the land pass by. First the fields that were tilled giving way to open pasture, and now woods.

She remembered these same woods seven years ago, but this time in the opposite order. She had spent much of the time crying, another trip that she had not paid much attention to. She had been scared then, too. And she was scared this time. Only thing was, she had a good idea of what she was heading in to. She had begged to be sent to a convent instead, but her uncle had dismissed her wishes and said that she was there to do as he wished and to do what was best for /his/ kingdom.

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They camped in the woods that night, and she was glad for the fresh air. Not that she was allowed out too far, but at least she could sit at the end of her wooden 'prison', and eat her meal in solace and breathe in the air. It would be the fourth such night that the routine would settle in. She would eat, wash up behind a curtain with Frau Yess standing guard, and then she would retreat back to the cushions and toss and turn and try to fall asleep. This night was like all the others, as she realized there was no way out of her predicament. Another week and she would be...well, not married, but in his castle and then married as soon as the banns were written and she was deemed suitable by the priest.

Beau was perfectly hidden amongst the green of the forest, crouched behind a particularly large boulder a great distance from the makeshift camp. The group appeared comfortable in the woods, naively so, even going as far as to let their campfire linger long past the need to prepare food -- a deadly mistake, as the blonde rouge tracked the wealthy travelers' whereabouts in impressive time.

His horse, Marigold, had been discarded a safe distance away, but his weapons were secured to him tightly. Eyes scanning over the group, he counted over 5 heads, and knew he was outmatched. The element of surprise could only work in his favor so well, and if he were being honest he truly wasn't in the mood to kill just for the possibility of a few coins. A definite answer, perhaps, but not for something not yet determined.

And then Beau's eyes landed on the redhead, sitting off to the side alone with her back to him. It would be a much easier task to coax her away from the knights -- even from such a space away Beau could tell they were the bumbling type, no doubt. It was simple: get the girl to empty her pockets, then leave her be and ride back to home. It was a safer bet than trying to take down nearly a half dozen men, anyway.

Without looking down Beau unlatched the dagger from his small sheath, and readjusted the black fabric around his mouth. Everything from his eyes down were hidden in dark clothing, with only his vibrant green eyes and blonde locs showing through. Creeping behind the woman with agonizing precision, the blade was pressed against her throat in one swift action. She hadn't time to scream, hardly gasp, not before her assailant cupped a hand over her mouth and appeared in her peripheral vision to silently eye his command -- not to make a sound, not to even breathe, only to cooperate and move backwards.

Where was Frau Yess during all this? Even that old crone had to take a break for nature's call. And she had thought her charge sleeping. But Sophia had awakened and crawled out to take in the night sky for one more time. And this was her reward for her folly. With green eyes wide, she can only nod slightly and back away with the man who held the knife to her throat. She was scared for her life, and while she was scared of what lay at the end of the trip she was on, that was a distant issue. The knife at her throat was very real and very cold and very much now.

She doesn't struggle, doesn't even try to scream. Her hands grip at his arm as he drags her back, her bare feet feeling every twig against her soft, pampered soles. She can smell his sweat and his clothes. He was...well, he had a scent, much different than some other men. Certainly not perfumed. But not...dirty. Just...toil. She didn't want to be on the journey she had been on and had prayed for deliverance. But she hadn't wanted that deliverance to be getting her throat slit. Maybe she should have been a tad bit more specific in her prayers she thinks to herself.

The pair had walked a decent stretch away from the rest. With only Beau, his captive, and the eerie silence of the forest around them, it was then that he hushed out his low demand. "C-..." was all he could get out, as Beau bit back a barely audible grunt of frustration to start again, the knife still pressed to the unnamed woman's neck.

"Coins, j-jewelry -- drop ev-everythin' and don't make a s-... a s-sound." he finally managed, sounding confident despite his lack of verbal eloquence. The sooner the riches were acquired, which was sure to be an ample amount if the woman's regal clothing was any indication, the sooner he could leave her for good.

"What?" was Sophia's first incredulous word once he released his hand from her mouth. Not a scream. Not a cry of help. But trying to understand what he wanted from her. And it wasn't the stutter. That she could understand through. It was his demand. It takes her a couple of heartbeats to realize that he seemed to think that SHE would have all those things on her. And she's too stunned to even try and play along.

"But I don't have anything like that!" she argues. "It's under lock and key, and it's hardly mine. At least not properly so. Oh, it's mine in name, but in truth, it belongs to my uncle. Or my soon-to-be husband. You may as well ask their guards to give it to you. I could not care less. Take it." she says.

Perhaps she should feel more frightened of a man with a knife, demanding jewels she doesn't have. "I am not allowed the royal jewels until I reach Windborne Castle. And only then to wear at the wedding." she points out. She almost feels sorry for the bandit. She only has a single gold chain with a locket around her neck, but that she won't be giving up so easily.

Figures he'd pull himself a girl so unstable as to make believe she was an heir. Beau had assumed the woman was of wealth, but to speak of herself as royalty was just -- well, absurd. No kin to the King would dare traverse through the woods with such poor protection. His grip tightened around the cold steel, eyes piercing into the woman's, "I won't ask ag-"

He stopped, froze more like it, as the sound of muffled shouts echoed through the dark forest. A single word could be heard, repeated over and over: 'Princess'.

It was rare for Beau to be taken be surprise, but his eyes widened to that of saucers for only a moment at his grave mistake. He'd taken capture of a Princess -- the Princess -- if caught he'd hang, no questions asked. The lordship was known for murdering for much lesser offenses.

There was just a split second to make a decision. Scream for help? Her judgment is clouded by an uncertainty of what they might do to /her/ for wandering out of the coach. And in the next minute what they will do to /him/ if he is caught. And it only takes one more heartbeat for a very crazy, insane plan to pop in her head. She turns to her captor, his blue eyes so striking at first sight, and she whispers quickly, "We have to go!" she tells him urgently. We. Not him. Not her. But we.

'We'?

Beau was sure he'd heard the Princess correctly, even as his heart pounded like a drum in his ears. The determination in her gaze couldn't be questioned, though -- she wanted to escape just as badly as he did. So without a word, Beau turned for his horse, hoping the hint would be taken to follow him. What started out as a light jog turned into a sprint, desperate to put as much distance between them and the searching knights. By the time Marigold had been spotted, and mounted with ease by her owner, Beau held out a hand for the Princess to take to pull her up.

After a hushed command the horse was off, galloping powerfully as though sensing the tension from her rider and his -- strange new partner. Beau made no move to speak, even after riding for minutes on end, far away from the manhunt behind them. He had no longer simply threatened the Princess, but was now holding her hostage -- now he and his entire family would hang. A sigh left his nose as the blonde thought of what to do. For now his options seems limited, mockingly so, but that didn't stop him from silently mulling over his thoughts.

Sophia can hardly believe what she is doing. She's surely sentenced this man to death and herself to...well, her marriage wasn't going to be pleasant to begin with. Maybe she will be sent to a convent after all. Although that penance might not be enough to absolve her of his death. So he better be able to get away.

She ends up in front of him, straddling the saddle with his arms around her. She clings to the horse's mane, and glances over her shoulder or under his arm to see if they are being followed. It doesn't seem like they are. What if she had /really/ been kidnapped? she thinks indignantly to herself.

"Where are we going? Do you have some sort of secret hide out near here?" she finally asks him, when he eventually slows his horse down to a walk.

His mouth was kept quiet as he thought long and hard of a suitable answer. It would take hours to reach his home from here, but would it be wise to bring the Princess of their nation to such a dangerous place? A seconds distraction could leave her capture by more unsavory of men, ready to sell her rather than merely take her jewels.

"Damn." was all Beau said, cursing under his breath to try and pick the lesser of two evils. "I wi-will leave you on the ma-main road. Your guards will find you by ni-nightfall and take you b-back home." He nodded at his own plan, eager to discard of the troublesome heir and, hopefully, keep his neck in the process.

She is quiet at his answer. Her heart thuds in her chest. "What...if they do not?" she asks quietly. She looks at her hands twisted in the horse's mane. "It...it is already getting dark. Anything could happen..." she lets that hang there in the air, then adds in a bit more imperial tone, "Besides. You kidnapped me. You are responsible for my safety." she points out, feeling a bit more confident that the man behind her wasn't /too/ bad of a fellow. Then she adds, just in case, "I am not going to say anything to anyone. Just...take me to a town. Someplace that...I can find somewhere to stay." She has very little concept of what things cost or the usual day-to-day transactions of the common folk, so in her mind, it's as simple as being dropped off and she asks for lodging.

His responsibility, hm? Well, Beau could've very easily hoisted the stubborn royal from his horse and been on his merry way, but there was truth to her words. Much worse could come to her if the knight took their time, or heaven forbid never came at all.

"A'right. Bu-But f-f-for now, we rest." Beau said, guiding the horse to turn a sharp left even deeper into the forest. Marigold was tired from the journey and he wouldn't push the proud mare past her breaking point. The girl's camp would be much less lavish than what she was used to, but it was all they had.

She just nods as he says something about resting. When he lets he down from the horse, she goes around to the front of the mare and pets her muzzle, saying with a smile, "I don't have any treats, girl. I wish I did. But I didn't know that I would be meeting you." she tells the horse with a glance to the blonde man, smiling slightly.

Then she addresses Beau directly, "Do I make you nervous?" she asks, curious about his stammering. There have been a few of the court that were nervous around her, although she suspected it was really her uncle that made men stumble over their words.

It was rare for the silver stallion to be met with such kindness, especially since the right side of the horse's face was greatly scarred. Her lack of sight in that eye didn't impede on her great strength or agility -- or her friendliness -- as the giant beast nuzzled next to the stranger affectionately as if knowing her since birth.

At the question thrown his way Beau looked up, his attention drawn back from scanning the horizon to ensure they were alone. "N-N-...No." Beau said simply, taking a deep breath to replace the lack of air his verbal struggle had caused, "I al-always speak this w-this way." He turned his head an inch and drew his eyes up to the sky. Even before the bird came into sight above the trees the blonde had heard the pheasant's wings brush against leaves.

"Supper." he smirked to himself, drawing his bow and arrow from out of the satchel on Marigold's back. He was eager to change the subject of his impediment, but food made it all the better. He took his time setting up the bow, his eyes following the flight of the bird with advanced precision.

"Oh." she says softly, and then her attention is taken by the bird, as well. She winces as she realizes that he is going to kill it, right there in front of her. She always hated hunting. It was such a violent and bloodthirsty sport. Or at the very least, her exposure to it was. Again, her uncle and his cronies were not the most humane of people, so it stands to reason they were not kind to animals, either.

She focuses on the horse, running her fingers lightly over the scar, and watching her captor with a careful gaze. He didn't seem to be too intent of taunting her with a dead body or making fun of the kill itself. He was efficient and quick, in her eyes. Not as bad as she had expected. Then again, she also had no clue what had to be done with the bird. She had never learned to cook. A princess had people to cook for her. People to run a house. People to do...whatever needed to be done. Not what she /wanted/ done, perhaps, but what was needed.

Which is why she didn't offer to gather wood or clean the bird or unsaddle his horse or help in any way. Not because she was stuck-up, but because she had no idea what to do, and even if he told her, she probably would have made a cock-up of it, trying to figure out what to do. But she does ask with some measure of awe, "You know how to cook, too?"

"Uh, y-yes?" Beau asked, an obvious look of confusion evident in his expression. All that was to be done was pluck off the feathers and make a fire -- surely the Princess knew how to do that at least? The bird was roasting before the sun even began to set, and was fully cooked by the time an orange hue tinted the afternoon sky.

Half of the portion was sent the woman's way, as Beau knifed their dinner vertically in one sharp downward motion. It was only then did he tug down the black cloth shielding the bottom half of his face, just long enough to stuff his mouth with charred meat -- more food than he thought he'd get for the night.

"Wh-Why did you flee from your -- f-f-from your m-men?" Beau inquired, the unanswered question plaguing him throughout their ride. It made no sense in his mind, why a Princess would willingly run away from the very guards sworn to protect her.