Chapter 3 (Chapters 1 and 2 are here earlier on the blog. Key word- Esmeralda)
Over bramble infested hills, through
soggy, boggy valleys, with the occasional detour when the brachet scented a
rabbit, Esmeralda trudged. The armlet bit into her tender flesh if she ceased
to follow the brachet and only loosened when the little hound was in
sight. Esmeralda was near to dropping
from hunger and exhaustion when at last the brachet stopped to drink from a
sparkling stream and then nudged meaningfully at the leathern pouch.
With a sigh of with relief,
Esmeralda sank onto the grassy bank and opened the pouch. What good fortune
that it was under a Spell of Plenty and could produce endless provisions for
herself and this annoying creature.
The annoying creature had
swallowed the dried meat and hard rolls then circled thrice in the long grass
and with a weary little whine had dropped into a tight curl and closed her eyes.
Esmeralda chewed doggedly on her
own hard roll and tough venison, hoping she wouldn’t break a tooth—was this why
they called them iron rations? she wondered. And why couldn’t the Pouch of
Plenty occasionally serve up a slice of pizza?
It had all seemed so simple when
she set out—the Sooth-Seer had appeared at the castle gate demanding to speak
to the Queen's daughter. Her mother the Queen had been thrilled—all Esmeralda’s
sisters had found their princes; her three brothers were off questing (at least
that’s what they’d said as they appropriated all the castle’s best steeds,) and
she was left at home to endure her mother’s ceaseless talk of The Olden Days
and how, with the help of a Magickal flower she had saved the King (or Prince
as he was then) from a ravening Ten-eyed Terror—how many times had
Esmeralda heard the story!
“And we were wed the next day,”
the story always concluded triumphantly. “Of course, I was the Fairest of the
Fair—everyone agreed. Cutest little trick in chain mail back then. And there
were other princes more handsome who would gladly have had me to wed but-” here
the Queen would slowly close one eye, “Your father was so grateful. And
has continued so. I would never marry a man—be he never so royal- who had
rescued me. The balance of power
you know. Imagine having to spend your life deferring to your rescuer. No, my
girl, you must wait for the proper opportunity.”
The Sooth-Seer was welcomed and,
when she spoke of a noble prince from a nearby Queendom who had been captured
by a trio of wicked Enchantresses and was even now languishing in a dank
dungeon, Esmeralda’s mother could hardly contain her excitement. Showering the
aged crone with gold, she bade her stay near while Esmeralda made ready for the
journey. Sempstresses were summoned, the royal closets were rummaged. “I know
my leathern Pouch of Plenty is in here and my Torch of Night Seeing . . . oh,
this is so exciting, I almost wish I were going with you, my dear.”
“Nay, my lady,” the Sooth Seer
had interposed. “She
must travel alone, but for such guides as may appear to
her. The Enchanted Crystal,” the crone held out a gnarled hand, cupped to
cradle a sparkling faceted sphere,” will show her the way.”
