QUINCY DOMINIC WHITE

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King Koyle swore that if Princess Valaqua would not be his wife then she would be his slave. No greater dowry was sent for the hand of King Sarquan’s youngest daughter than by King Koyle of Magkenna. Valaqua was the youngest of Sarquan’s four daughters, just of marrying age, and Koyle had sent four small ornate chests: one with rubies, one with sapphires, one with diamonds, and one with gold. Sarquan would have none of it. Even though Magkenna was a kingdom laden with volcanoes and mines rich in precious stones, he considered the Magkennites barbarians. Worse, their mysterious king was said to be a foreigner in his own land.

            Taraqua was a peninsular kingdom jutting down into the Azule Sea, independent but thought to exist as a buffer between the empires of Western Talin and Eastern Anakara. Those living in Taraqua, however, did not consider their country to be only a buffer. Its people were prideful, as were its historic kings, including the blond-bearded King Sarquan. They considered themselves superior to the great powers surrounding them and certainly worthier than the bloodthirsty Magkennite savages.

King Sarquan of Taraqua did not doubt he had something to fear from Magkenna and its enigmatic King Koyle. Still, he considered Valaqua to be well-protected as long as she remained within the safety of his palace walls. His was a majestic castle which towered above the Azule Sea. The structure was bright white with massive domes and rounded archways that were well-lit by many lamps and torches. Tarquin sentries guarded every hallway and entrance into the castle. Sentries were clad in silver armor and turquoise cloaks and wore long, rounded helmets on their heads. There were more sentries patrolling than usual on this night, for fear of Koyle.

            The warriors in black, five in all, should have been starkly out of place amidst the white splendor of the castle. This was especially true, considering the clear night sky was filled with a bright moon and a band of stars. But the Tarquin sentries could not see the skiff skirting along their shoreline. Nor had they ever considered that an enemy might anchor on the south side of the palace. The royal living quarters were on the north side, which required the intruders to cross a narrow embankment at high tide. Nonetheless, these intruders moved easily, without sound, in and out of pools of shadow.

            They were the elite Venkir Guard from the Kingdom of Magkenna. The Venkir Guards wore tightly-wound black clothing with black armor. Black cloaks covered their bodies. Their boots were wrapped with soft, black cloth to make sure they made no sound. On their heads, they wore black hoods underneath their dark metal helmets, ensuring that their eyes were invisible beneath the visors. The men were armed with scythe blades atop black staffs, which were strapped to their backs.

One in the group was dressed slightly different. He wore an embossed helmet depicting a roaring lion’s head, golden in color. He was armed with a gold-hilted curved sword. He was the leader of the Venkir Guard. His name was Captain Ralag.

            In no time, the warriors arrived at the northern side of the castle and moved toward a walled-in garden.

Within the garden, the lush palm trees were not too tall, in order to prevent anyone from climbing over the castle walls from within. Truthfully, the garden quarters were never considered to be an entry point into the castle, as it was thought impossible to scale the sheer, high wall. What the Tarquins did not understand was that although the wall’s surface looked smooth from afar, its stone was continually being eroded by nature’s forces. There was just enough roughness for gripping, and the Venkir Guards, trained in the mountains of Magkenna, would have no trouble.

            Two Venkir Guards inserted spikes in their gloves to create handholds large enough to be inserted through the pockmarked white stone. They then made their way up the wall, their tall bodies moving faster, climbing better than anyone would have expected. In moments, they were over the wall and down the other side. Clacks sounded from within the walls, indiscernible from ordinary night sounds heard throughout the castle. Captain Ralag understood the quiet clack sounds well enough. Ropes had been thrown over the walls from the inside perimeter. He and the remaining Venkir Guards adeptly went up and over the top of the garden wall.

            It was a myth that the Venkir Guards did not speak. They spoke among themselves and in battle, but only when it was absolutely necessary. On this night, their silent language was the most effective tool they possessed to successfully complete their mission.

            Three Tarquin guards were patrolling throughout the garden complex, but they were more concerned with problems from within: slaves attempting to escape or anyone seeking to poach fruits from the plants. The Venkir Guards used the element of surprise to their advantage. They fanned out with their scythes drawn, and quickly cut down the Tarquin guards. Blood flowed invisibly in the night, coloring the green grass and leaves a dark red only to be noticed in the morning.

            Overlooking the garden were long, spacious balconies which were primarily unguarded. The bedchamber doors of royalty opened directly onto these balconies, which curved around the towers of the castle.

            On the intruders’ right were King Sarquan’s chambers, built much higher than the outside walls. While it may have been possible for the Venkir Guards to get to the King, they would not test it, for he was not their concern. In truth, King Koyle had no use for the royal Tarquin fool.

            Straight ahead of the swiftly moving Venkir Guards was another balcony, this one guarded. Princess Valaqua had protested the presence of guards directly outside her bedchamber door, especially given the way she liked to sleep. In the end, she acquiesced to her father’s wishes, keeping her ornate gold-trimmed door closed. On the balcony were two stationary Tarquin guards, positioned at each end of it. A third sentry patrolled back and forth between the stationary guards. He marched quietly, lest he awaken the Princess. This was his main concern, more so than protecting her from intruders.

            Two Venkir Guards took up their own sentinel duty at the base of the tower underneath its balcony, scythes out at the ready. The other two divested themselves of their larger weapons, placing them carefully on the ground. Their long curved daggers would be of better use as they prepared to climb the wall leading to the Princess’ chambers.

            Ralag led the way. They did not need to use ropes, as the distance was short. Unlike the garden wall, there had been intensive maintenance on this stonework, but it was still not smooth enough to hinder the use of handheld spikes. Ralag and his fellow Venkir Guards moved upward onto the balcony like spiders. The Captain waited silently for the pacing Tarquin guard to pass him. As he pulled himself up, his two men pulled up in concert. Ralag did not need his great curved sword. He drew his short dagger and slit the throat of the sentry. The remaining Venkir Guards closed in on the stationary Tarquin guards positioned at opposite ends of the balcony. One saw them approaching, but he did not have time to utter a cry. Each Tarquin guard in turquoise was blotted out by a black shadow. Six men in all fell dead on this dark and ominous night. Their blood was wiped clean from the Venkir blades.

            Ralag walked toward the Princess’ chamber to claim his prize for the King. There were no locks on the interior doors of the castle. Castle inhabitants felt safe in the hands of their trusted guards. Ralag opened the gold-trimmed door and went inside while his two men waited on the balcony, now making their own lookout possible.

            The Princess’ chamber was an unsurprisingly spacious room, with a glittering domed ceiling high above it. In the center of this space Princess Valaqua slept on a large, round bed. She appeared young and soft with a head of strawberry blond hair tangled in curls. It was summer in Taraqua, so it was natural for her to be sleeping nude beneath a sheer lavender cover. Her body was curvaceous and beautiful. She had milky white skin, smooth all over save her thick strawberry blond pubic hair. She was lying on her back, her head tilted as she slept.

            Captain Ralag moved quickly to her. He put his black-gloved hand over her mouth and poured a vial of elixir down her throat. She did not wake up before slipping from sleep into full unconsciousness. Ralag pulled out a black rope from his belt. He swept off the sheer sheet and turned her onto her belly. He bound her wrists behind her back and her arms to her sides, then bound her ankles. He took out a shorter strand of rope and tied it around her mouth. She was then wrapped head to foot in the sheer covering, and placed over the Captain’s shoulder.

            Ralag exited her room. No verbal exchange was necessary. In much less time than it had taken them to cut their horrific path through the guards, they were out of the castle and back to the skiff. They moved off across the Azule Sea.

            The young Princess Valaqua was unconscious during the kidnapping. When she finally awakened, she would find herself a naked and bound prisoner.