The Traitor's Redemption

Tight cords stung Danielle’s wrists. Her face burned. 

            “If not for previous heroism Danielle Longbow, daughter of Darren, would die for her treason. Queen Malin sentences her to fifty lashes and her imperial ward-” 

The crier waited for the roar of boos to die down. 

            “-to be STONED.” 

In the stocks next to her, the yellow haired boy’s blue eyes glittered with the promise of tears. 

            “Do not cry,” she warned him. “Look down. Don’t look at the crowd.” 

Blue eyes disappeared beneath a helmet with no eye holes. 

            “FIFTY LASHES!” 

Danielle closed her eyes. Winter air bit at her face. The cold scratched her throat with every breath. 

            “ONE!” The cruel sting of the whip hitting her back forced the air from her lungs. The knots of the cat o’ nine tails burnt her despite the winter air. Twitching sent a jolt through her broken arm. 

            “TWO!” The crowd counted with the crier. Her body tried to jump to be away from the pain, but she was bound tight to the old whipping post. Her arm screamed in agony again. 

            “THREE!” Holding back the tears felt impossible. Her jaw ached from clenching. 

            “Don’t. You’ll kill her. Stop please.” It was Carl. She looked at him. His round face should never have seen the gore of battle. It wasn’t his fault. 

            “FOUR.” She tried to look into his eyes as the knots hit her back. Breath was knocked from her by the blow. It had only moments, but they already felt like hours. 

            “Be strong Carl,” she said. She wanted to take his hand. 

            “FIVE.” Skin tore, softened by the previous impacts, ripped, and bled. 

            Closed eyes dripped beneath the mane of yellow hair. Each tear dripped onto the boards of the stage. Another five lashes set her back on fire as she willed the child her strength. He was bound to her now. He had to be strong. 

            “ELEVEN.” Screaming would have been a release from the fire of agony consuming her back. “TWELVE. THIRTEEN. FOURTEEN.” Carl looked at her. 

            “You can do it Danielle. Don’t Die.” His chubby cheeks were pink with the cold. His lower body shivered. Fists poked through the clamps of the stocks that held his head and wrists tight. Standing on a box kept him from choking to death in stocks built for adults. 

            “FIFTEEN. SIXTEEN. SEVENTEEN.” The world was blurring. Somewhere in her head a logical voice said she had lost too much blood or was past the limits of her pain tolerance. 

            “DANIELLE!” It wasn’t Carl. Her foggy eyes rose to look at the crowd. 

            “Lupita, I told you not to come.” An ear by her gasping lips might not have heard the broken exhalation her failing mind intended as words. Feeling from her back had eclipsed discomfort from her broken arm. 

            Right at the front of the jeering mob stood her girlfriend in regular clothes. She had been booted from the Royal Coven for her part in hiding Carl from certain death. He’d been half dead at the time. Forced to serve with the imperial army ordered to wipe Crann Kingdom from the map. 

            As pain became her whole world, Danielle read the words on Lupita’s lips. 

            “I love you. Hold on.” 

            The hatred from the crowd around her lover was tangible. Many were spitting with anger. Their pink chapped faces radiated rage as their shouts caused plumes of vapour. A black and silver bird faced woman at the front seemed to be booing the loudest.

            “TWENTY. TWENTY-ONE.” Down she went, into nothing. Beyond pain. 

First to rouse her was the pain in her back. As she woke the pain spread from her neck to her ankles. 

            “You’re awake.” 

            “Don't remind me.” Danielle groaned. Existence was agony but moving was worse. 

            “Let me kiss you.” Lupita Smith knelt to press her lips to the disgraced soldier. 

            Lifting her head lit up the wounds on the back of her neck, but the press of lips gave her the first happy feeling in days. 

            “Where is Carl?” 

            “What?” 

            “Is Carl alright?” Was she mumbling? 

            “Hang on.” Lupita leaned closer and pressed her perfect ear to Danielle’s lips. 

            “How is Carl?” 

            “Oh. He’s asleep. I’ve kept him sedated since the stoning. He was a rainbow of bruises. At least he hasn’t lost blood like you. He’s in better shape than you are. He was awake the next day crying.” 

            “Next day? How many days has it been?” 

            “Four days, gorgeous. Don’t you remember eating?” 

            Danielle instantly regretted shaking her head. 

Being an invalid didn’t suit the aspiring knight. Two weeks later her back was still a giant bruise punctuated by new scars. No one made eye contact with her. She was forbidden from wearing the green tabard of Crann Kingdom. 

            Having the boy at her side constantly didn’t help but that was the deal. If he left her sight he would be executed, followed by her. Duty was all she had. Watch on the wall was as cold as ever but with the blue-eyed boy shivering at her side the soldier chosen to watch with her didn’t say a word. 

Eventually she was summoned by Queen Malin. 

            Blood rushed to her cheeks as she stood before the woman who had cursed herself to save the kingdom from the empire Carl had fought for. That empire had slaughtered most of the men in the kingdom in the Battle of Worldworm’s Bridge. 

            “I had high hopes for you before this Miss Longbow.” Queen Malin’s mismatched eyes indicated Carl with a glance. 

            “Are you alright My Queen?” Danielle asked. 

            “Still paying the price for that cursed rain.” The blue and brown eyes flitted between the whipped warrior and the blonde boy at her side. “You paid a heavy toll for the life of that imp. Was it worth it?” Every wrinkle in the queen’s face had grown, she was twenty years older than she had been just months before. 

            “He’s still a child My Queen. I don’t regret saving him from execution. I do regret concealing him from my people.” 

            “Are we your people? We fought with you. Died with you. Gave our lives for this kingdom when boys like that threatened to wipe us out.” A bony finger, covered in liver spots, pointed at Carl. 

            “I will always be a child of Crann, My Queen.” 

            “Really? I will always be a child of a kingdom wiped from the maps by men with blonde hair and blue eyes.” The voice of the royal seemed to rise from a pool of venom deep within her shrivelled body. She exhaled a long, vengeful sigh. “I didn’t summon you for excuses Miss Long. I want to give you a chance to redeem yourself.” Danielle waited, thinking Queen Malin had more to say. A long pause grew between them before the queen continued. 

            “Scouts at Worldworm’s Bridge have seen imperials trying to clear away the curaduile trees recently. If they manage more blue-eyed boys will cross the river and slaughter your people. “I want to attack them in their fortress before they make any more progress. I want you to attack them. I want the head of their commander in my hands when you return. If you manage that, I’ll let you re-join the army and remove the abatement from your coat of arms.” 

            “She’s sending you on a suicide mission.” 

            Queen Malin scowled. “Did your new pet just talk without my permission?” 

            Carl got on his knees and bowed his head. Making his bright hair more obvious did nothing to wipe the scowl from the monarch’s face. 

            “I beg your pardon great queen. I was stationed at the castle beyond the bridge before we attacked the south. The bulk of the southern imperial army waits there for the chance to push further. The commander there is a shrewd man. He keeps the soldiers as busy as you keep yours.” 

            “You are the enemy, boy. We can never trust a word from your mouth.” 

            “Queen Malin I-” 

            “Shut up, Carl, before she cuts your head off.” 

            “Listen to her boy. If you worry for your saviour, then you can go with her. If you die as well then so be it.” There was more ice in her voice than the air outside. “Do you accept the offer Miss Longbow? I will not offer you redemption again.” 

            Carl looked at Danielle and shook his head. She looked at the granite flagstones beneath her feet for a moment. Her mighty shadow danced in torchlight across the floor. All she wanted was to be a knight of Crann Kingdom. She’d been so close. The boy’s eyes were pleading, round as saucers. 

            “Sorry, I need this.” She looked at the crone on the throne. “I’ll do it your majesty.” 

            “No fucking way!” Lupita’s hands only drew her lover’s attention to her hips. “I’m talking to you.” 

            Not wanting to argue, Danielle kissed the beautiful woman who was yelling at her. The new scars across her back felt tight. Her sword arm had healed but ached in the cold. 

            “Don’t die.” 

            “That’s not in the plan.” 

            “You have a plan?” 

            “Yes. First part of the plan is to come up with a better plan when we cross the bridge.” 

            “That’s not a plan Dan, it’s called improvising.” 

            “You’re even more beautiful when you’re being smart.” 

            Miss Smith’s nostrils flared. “DON’T FUCKING DIE.” 

            “I love you too gorgeous. Can you help me into my armour? I don’t want to go into battle naked.”

            Danielle always felt naked without her armour on. She felt even more naked when Lupita the witch began dying her strong arms with runes. The dye was Lupita’s blood mixed with sap from the magical curaduile trees. It itched the moment it touched her pale skin, but she didn’t say a word as Miss Smith’s brown hands painted each symbol on meticulously.

            “These are supposed to protect you against harm. Some give luck. Others make you harder to see. They won’t help much but it’s all I can do.” Lupita held Miss Longbow’s trunk like upper arms, hands highlighted against the white skin. Her brown lips kissed the scars on Danielle’s shoulder.

            “Can I turn around yet?” Carl asked. He had been sitting facing the wall while the aspiring knight had her clothes off to be inked.

            “No. We’re both naked now,” Miss Longbow said, smirking. Lupita punched her.

            “I don’t mind.” Danielle could hear the smile in his voice.

            “Keep looking at the wall or I’LL kill you,” she said.

            He sighed. “Not fair.”

Carl got his own set of runes. They had to be painted on his shivering back because his arms were twigs wrapped in skin. He had an imperial legionary tattoo on his shoulder. The women exchanged glances while the boy looked into the fireplace.

            “How do I look? Like a mighty barbarian warrior?”

            “Like a little boy who rolled over a bloody corpse with his top off.”

            “Close enough,” he shrugged. The more he talked, the more his cheeky streak showed through. He winced as Lupita smacked the back of his head.

            “Don’t move idiot. I’m not finished.” The witch took the boy’s shoulder in a vicelike grip. “We’ve both made sacrifices and risked our necks for you. Don’t fuck that up by dying.”

            “What you’re saying is, you love me?” He winced as she smacked him again, but he was laughing. His tiny frame shook like he was coughing up a furball. She laughed as well.

            “You’re too young and too manly for me Carl.”

            “That is without a doubt the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, you must be in love.”

            “My gods, is it too late to kill him myself?” Lupita laughed, for a moment forgetting why she was drawing those runes on him. Then reality returned with a frown.

A bang at the door made them all turn from the fire.

            Danielle answered in full armour, with her sword at her side and her bow slung over her shoulder. Outside the door stood a knight in shining armour and a humanoid tree that was the vision of her in bark and leaves.

            “Are you ready?” asked Fabian Castel. She listened for affection or hatred from the man who had let her stay in his home, but his voice was entirely flat.

            “Almost. Are you here on behalf of the queen or as a friend?”

            “Both.” He sighed, showing off perfect white teeth. “You know you shouldn’t have saved him don’t you.”

            “He’s right you know. You should have let me die.” Carl’s voice was booming and more foreign than before. The sound of that accent caused Fabian’s jaw to clench.

            “Come in. It’s freezing.” She looked at snow falling on the city cobbles, resting in the needles of green hair on the curaduile avatar’s brown head.

            Fabian looked as if he was going to turn down the invitation, but the tree stepped inside gladly.

            The walking tree had chosen the name Elswyth. Despite taking Danielle’s form, it could hardly have differed more in its approach to life. Bookish was a term more suited to Lupita since the creature seemed to inherently know things, but it studied and talked with the manner of a royal archivist.

            “Agreeing to Queen Malin’s challenge was foolish. She knows you face insurmountable odds.” The voice was the creaking moan of an old tree bending in the wind.

            “I’m from a fishing village Elswyth, use shorter words.”

            “You’re going to die,” said the tree. Emerald green eyes narrowed in the wooden imitation of her face. Melting snowflakes dripped onto the flagstones.

            “Much better. I understood that. Why are you here? This isn’t the time for my reading lessons.”

            “I’m here to enchant your weapons so that you stand a chance tonight. I know a spell which will sharpen your blade every time you kill. It will poison you in the long run if overused, but I have nothing else to aid your survival.”

            “Excellent!” Danielle spoke from a well of sarcasm that deepened every time someone called her a traitor beneath their breath.

            Elswyth taught Lupita the runes of the enchantment to be carved into the blade of Danielle’s sword. The witch, daughter of a smith, carved them near the hilt meticulously. The other four looked at the scratches as if there was something incredible about them.

            “Is this one of those magic things that I can’t, see?”

            “You can’t see that?” Carl asked. “Isn’t it doubly rude to send a blind woman to her death?” The boy asked Fabian, who scowled in response. “Will we set off then? I’m eager to face an inevitable death, unarmed, against insurmountable odds.”

            Fabian searched the boy before they left the cottage. Carl wasn’t allowed armour or weapons of any sort by order of the queen. Dressed in nothing but furs he departed with them into the snow with not so much as a stick to defend himself.

            Elswyth and Lupita watched in the orange glow of the doorway as they trudged off through the snow. Danielle blew her lover a kiss and nodded her thanks to the curaduile avatar. The tree nodded back as the witch blinked away tears. Both were lost to low visibility before they were a stone’s throw away.

Out through the northern gate of Leonor city they passed Crosston Hills, which had become a copse of monstrous curaduile trees. The ruins of Crosston were blanketed in thick white. Dark hollows of windows in houses covered in snow looked like the eye sockets of skulls. Afon Village near the bridge was in the same state as the town.

            By the end of the mighty bridge sat a tiny hut. Smoke poured from the chimney of the hut whose only window looked towards the bridge to the northwest.

Fabian led them down the middle of the bridge to where another of the curaduile avatars was waiting. It had taken the form of a haggard border guard.

            “I am here to take you through,” said the otherworldly voice. Unlike Elswyth, who talked often with Lupita when it was not teaching Danielle to read and write, its voice was the haunting creak of branches in a storm. It wasn’t the cold that made her shiver as she listened.

            “Thank you.” Fabian bowed his head; snow fell from his fur hood to the ground.

Down the bridge which seemed endless in the fog, they found the wall of trees. Half swallowed by the bark of the curaduile were items of armour worn by the imperial soldiers who had died to birth the trees.

            A scratching lump grew in Danielle’s throat as she watched the trees part. She’d seen them swallow the enemy. Those memories were a fixture in her frequent nightmares.

            She drew her sword. Fabian looked back but nodded. He drew his own.

            “Don’t mind me. I’ll use my words.” Carl scowled but lit up with joy as the knight passed him a miniscule knife meant for cutting meat at banquets.

            Through the hollow in the tree they went. Ducking low. Treading lightly. Nothing but grey met their eyes. The voice of guards and an orange glow drifted through the cold haze. The adrenaline began to pump through Danielle’s veins. She watched the boy with the knife in his hand, hoping she hadn’t made a terrible mistake.