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Desperate Measures: Introduction
🕑 Added 2020-10-08 16:48:51 +0000 UTCI am kneeling in the center of my twin sister’s expansive marble columned room as three attendants scramble around me. The one behind me brushes my long straight blond hair, another at my side is tightening the wide thrice wrapped sash around my waist on the outside of the fine silk lady’s kimono, and the last is knelt in front of me and hurriedly applying make up to my face with a practiced hand. Fresh perfume still hangs in the air around me. From beyond the room comes the ringing of metal on metal and the frantic shouts of soldiers fighting a losing battle. Despite being given ample warning the Orc horde proved too much for my father’s forces. It was a rout. In the end we never stood a chance as these were not your run of the mill mob of Orcish rabble. The Scourge had come to Isthalas.
The Scourge, also known as High General Urgula of Clan Korgar, was the most feared military leader on all of Aethos. The fear was well founded and stemmed from three things. First, her keen military genius was second to none. Second, her elite force of Valkyries had all of the might and rage of the other male dominated Orc armies but with a steel discipline that even the Dwarves were envious of. And finally, her penchant for leaving a defeated leader alive and in place yet slaughtering every male heir while stealing away and enslaving the female ones. The stories of the fate of these captured princesses made the blood run cold. Broken women, chattel slaves, used and abused by the orc soldiery, and ultimately eaten by the High General herself. How much of these were tall tales no one could say, though the truth might be even more terrifying. To my father’s credit, or perhaps in his arrogance, he could have offered his children and half the treasury willingly as an act of total surrender as other rulers had done but he didn’t. Instead he fought and the deadly cost of that ill fated decision was mounting by the second. The Scourge would take her prize regardless of his resistance.
Unfortunately one crucial part of that prize was now missing. Just minutes ago my sister had kept her honor by taking her own life, the horror of being captured by the orcish Chief too great for her to bear, but in doing so she doomed our house and our noble lineage. Defying the Scourge of her prize was the surest way to turn a military defeat into total ruin. Our gleaming city would be pillaged to the last coin and my family’s influence wiped out to the last loyal aide or distant cousin to bear our name.
I had neither the opportunity nor inclination to grieve for my dead twin. In life she was vain, haughty, and even cruel. It could not be said that the world was a better place with her in it. I was far more terrified by the desperate measures her suicide had forced upon me, any small sorrow I had for her passing would have to wait. Due to Tariella’s obsessive vanity every other attractive young Elf woman had been cast out of the castle’s employ years ago so that my sister’s beauty could shine all the brighter. This meant as the noose of enemy forces had tightened around our home we had not a single maiden that might stand in for her in the ruse we were about to attempt. Even now Tariella’s body was being dressed up in common clothes and her hair cut to make her look a commoner, a fate she might have thought even worse than death itself. The corpse of a fallen soldier that roughly matched my description was being dressed in my finery as I am made up to look like my twin. A prince was being transformed into a princess. It was a foolish plan, I was convinced it would be seen through in an instant, but at this point we had no time for an alternative and nothing to lose except pride.
While not identical twins there was a great resemblance between my sister and I. With my slender build, effeminate features for a man even by elvish standards, and fine blond hair that flowed down to my knees I had some hope of pulling off the illusion though I worried I hadn’t the nerve to see it through. And if it did work, the horror what will happen to me once the ruse is discovered I cannot contemplate. It will surely end in my grisly death, I just pray it is quick. I am doing this for my family and for my people. It was my mother’s idea and my father’s command but my true reasons for doing it were noble. I might not be able to raise a sword to defend my home, my skills lie in arts and song, but I could at least do this. My sacrifice would give what was left of my family and those loyal to us a chance to flee. I find myself wondering if my deed would end up in the history books, the prince made damsel. Likely not as my dignified father would never confess to giving up his youngest son to such a dishonorable trick.
All of us startle as there is a crash and raised voices only two rooms away. The deep gravelly barks of orc voices now mixing with the shouts of our soldiers. The attendants redouble their hurried efforts. I let out a small grunt as the sash is tightened further to accentuate my already slim waist. Despite it all I keep my gaze locked on Silima as she did the finishing touches on my make up. If there was one thing I was thankful for in this moment it was her presence. Growing up she had been more a mother to me than the woman who bore me. I can see the fear and concern in her eyes and I hold to that. With my end so near the knowledge that at least one person truly loved me in this life is a great comfort.
“Renounce us if you must Silima.” I say to her. “Say or do whatever you must to survive. There is no shame in it.” The bittersweet smile she gives me tells me that she would not. I take one of her hands and squeeze it as I assure her. “This will work. You’ll see. I will give you as much time as I can.” My words showed confidence though in my heart was nothing but grave doubts. I can feel my hair being bound and folded up into the style of an elvish lady but I keep my focus on the kind face of Silima.
“I will never forget you young master.” She says as tears well up in her brown eyes. “Excuse my impertinence my lord but…you…you were the son I never had.”
“And you the mother I always needed.” We take a fleeting moment just to look into each other’s eyes and say our final silent goodbye. I wished I could tell her I loved her, but that wasn’t the way between elvish nobility and their servants. The death scream of a soldier shatters the instant. The other two attendants let out whimpers of terror as the fearsome enemy was now so very close. Silima passes the make up and tools to the servant at my side who then rushes to place them back where they belonged. The woman behind me places my sister’s platinum tiara upon my brow with trembling hands.
“I’m scared.” I whisper.
“You are allowed to be.” Salima pulls me in for a hug. “You are so brave Aerin.”
It was the first time she had shown her maternal affection for me so openly or even used my first name. Casting aside a lifetime of custom I hug her back. The time was tight, the hug brief but wonderful, I wished we had done this years ago. She reluctantly pushes back and holds me by the shoulders as she looks me over. She nods, satisfied with how I look. I hadn’t a mirror I could see but Salima’s approval gave me hope the disguise was a good one.
“I will buy all the time I can.” I say. “You must use all haste to get away. Do not delay. The moment the horde withdraws you should be on a swift steed heading South.”
“Plans are already being made.” She says.
“Good.” I say as I use meditation breathing to try to bring my breathing under control. “If…if I see the night I will assume my family is away. But…what shall I do then?”
“Look to get away! You them no more time than that. If there is even a chance…Aerin, watch for any opportunity. Perhaps Lady Fate will see your deed and provide you an escape.” She says with little real hope. Then, leaning into her words, she says vehemently. “Escape Aerin.” Pulling a small blue wax coated pellet from a pocket she looks me dead in the eyes as she tucks it into my sash. “Escape anyway you can.” The pill was the same type my sister had ingested. Once consumed death would follow swiftly and painlessly. The sounds of heavy boots and clanking armor are now just beyond the door. “Any words for your parents?” She asks.
“No.” I pour all of my focus in reining in my shattered nerves. “I will see you again Silima. Beyond the veil we will meet again.” She nods and squeezes my hands one last time. “All of you, get behind me.”
The three servants fade into the far corner of the room as the first resounding ax strike cleaves into the center of the delicately carved ashen gray wood of locked door.
