Night falls in the kingdom of Caligo...
Sariel and Arakiel shone brightly that night. The intoxicating scent of the flowers and herbs in the palace gardens floated up to the balcony where Princess Lilias stood staring up at the vast night sky. Beneath her long diaphanous gown, her nipples hardened under the light caress of a balmy breeze. Long chestnut ringlets tumbled past her small shoulders as she pulled the jeweled pins from her chignon styled hair one by one.
At 18, the slim and beautiful Lilias was ripe for marriage and childbearing, according to Asreth, her maid and companion who, for some time now, pestered the King to find his daughter a worthy suitor. A few Princes had courted Lilias to the throne. Prince Reeve Gawn of Gattis was devastatingly handsome. But Lilias thought him arrogant and far too into himself. Prince Roule Timm hailed from Mays. A bright and inquisitive lad of 18, he'd ended up betrothed to the daughter of a Mayvan noble when Lilias turned him down. She had no use for men, though she wisely kept that opinion to herself. What good would it be to marry a man who'd try usurping her power the second she became Queen?
There'd been whispers, for weeks, about a peasant uprising. Lilias had seen men on the backs of equine Nale Kirna riding in and out of the city. There was a general tension and unusual activity near the gates at Falon, and she figured something would happen soon. Though she worried about the violence of an angry mob, she felt strangely giddy at the thought of her father's rule being challenged by the peasants who had been overworked and underfed for too long. Theirs was a luxury and opulence lived at the expense of others. But once her father passed and the throne was hers, she intended to usher a new era of peace and prosperity for all.
Lilias had heard of the legendary Joled Borin who was hailed by many as the Huntress, the Provider of the People. For many years, Joled lived as a recluse with a small group of followers. They'd rob the nobles and the wealthy; any who were foolish enough to enter the forest where she and her group lived. Lilias had heard that she lived alone somewhere deep in the forest. She was rarely seen by anyone, though her followers lived close by and protected her. She was respected and regarded as a local legendary figure. It was rumored by some that Joled was last spotted riding through the countryside on her Nale Kirna, Panik, recruiting men and women to join her group which, allegedly, grew bigger with each passing day.
Lilias shuddered with pleasure, for some strange reason, at the thought of this elusive recluse, the Huntress, who lived like a man in the forest. The Princess pictured Joled in a rough jerkin with stola and trousers. If she did indeed dress like a man, then her hair was likely cropped very short. As a huntress and forest dweller, she probably handled her bow and arrow with ease and wielded a sword as well as any soldier. The Princess marveled at the fate that had made this woman she'd never met her enemy. And she thought that if she'd been born in a cottage where the livestock shared space with their masters, she would've probably joined Joled in the forest.
Anyone with a working set of eyes could see that Princess Lilias was no ordinary beauty. She was slim and delicate with large, dark eyes and full, voluptuous lips. The lacings of her gown drew attention to the twin swells of her youthful breasts as she leaned forward and listened to the leaves rustling in the light breeze. The exuberant curve of her bottom was disguised, only slightly, by the trailing expanse of the skirt that covered it. There was no doubting that any elicit eyes that happened upon her in the city would have loved to see the round cheeks and slim waist cruelly laid bare at the whipping post in the square.
Sensing danger, Lilias strained to hear every sound coming from the grounds below. Too late, she stepped backward as an arm clutched the balcony side. This was quickly followed by the hardened, age and work-worn face of a woman who'd likely spent much of her time performing physical labor. The Princess gasped, throat straining not to scream. She turned to rush back to the safety of her bedchamber.
With amazing dexterity, the intruder launched herself feet first over the side of the balcony and seized the fleeing beauty by her wrist. Instinct pushed Lilias to resist, struggling desperately to get away, but the stranger wrapped her arm around her captive's waist and clamped a roughened hand over her mouth. Ugh! The hand smelled like dirt, sweat, and soot. "Quiet!" A clipped, curt voice hissed against the delicate shell of Lilias's ear. The Princess gasped when the arm that held her waist slid upward and the strong hand rudely closed over her breast as though it were a fruit in the market.
Before she could react, the Princess had been shoved into her chamber by a mannish looking woman in her mid to late 40's. Though she couldn't see her fully, Lilias knew already she'd be out of place amongst the ethereal silks and brocades of a royal bedchamber. Wrenching away from the woman's grip, she spun around to face the intruder. Lilias forced herself to look into the flinty dark eyes of her assailant. "I--I know who you are." She whispered. "Joled, the Huntress. I will not call the guards if you promise me no harm." The Princess's lips strained and her body tensed when she felt the cold metal of a blade against her throat.
"My Lady, alert your servants and they will find you dead." The woman hissed. "Trimaar. Silver and gold. I, and the people, demand it." Sensing that the Princess would keep quiet, Joled slackened the blade and backed off. Right away, Lilias noticed that the Huntress was tall and slender. Her hair, a dark chestnut, gleamed with signs of silver gray. It looked a little like the frost of an early morning kissed those short locks. Her fair skin was deeply etched with the lines of age. Her features were mannish, rough, yet oddly handsome.
As if driven by impulse, Joled bowed slowly and silently, trying to disguise her admiration as she muttered "My Lady." Lilias, unsure of what to do, turned away. She caught her reflection in a nearby mirror and saw with her the strong woman whose body seemed to exude such confidence that the night air almost crackled. A quick glance at the woman's nearly flat chest, covered by rough milled cloth, the Princess was intrigued. Still, she was determined not to surrender completely to a lawless peasant whose honor had not been tested.
With grace and restraint, Lilias went to her dressing table and produced a beautifully tooled box, covered in old hieratic and inlaid with sea glass of blue and dreamy seafoam green. The flickering light from the lamps in sconces around the wall lit up the silver and gold coins that came into view when the princess lifted the lid.
"The tax man comes to collect coin for a spoiled girl." The older woman sneered. "To become more beautiful, lazy, and foolish on the backs of good women and men!" Her eyelids narrowed while her gaze traveled slowly, deliberately from the hem of the young beauty's gown to the lovely twin swells of her breasts straining against the ethereal fabric. Lilias suspected the intruder's gaze to be insulting, and she felt herself growing hot with shame and excitement she tried hard to suppress.
Joled's hand reached out and touched the glimmering coinage, feeling the raised marks of Trimaar passed reluctantly as tribute to the taxman, grinning and laughing, no doubt, as he went about his duties. She hated the King and his family and all it stood for ever since her father, who worked as a gardner for the Duke of Corby, was hobbled for the high crime of leaving the Duke's land without permission. Dereliction of duty. But Joled's young brother, Tig, had fallen gravely ill with fever. Her father left only long enough to find the local Mendri skilled with the herbs to ease the boy's fever and pain. Thanks to the Mendri, Tig was cured and his fever passed. But for Joled, it was an injustice she'd never forgotten.
