The Princess and The Pirate
Chapter 33

Kyle clicked his horse faster, the jingle of gold rattling with every gallop. He couldn’t out run his memory.

“How much do you want? Twenty, no, thirty pounds of gold?” The Regent had walked into his treasury, scooping coins and precious stones into a chest.

“Whoa guy, relax,” Kyle said, completely unaccustomed to people throwing money at him.

Eustace continued piling loot into the box. “This is what your lot care about, right?”

Well, that wasn’t necessarily true, despite the reputation. Kyle recalled the anxiety he felt earlier when he pulled Jacqueline from the river and the distant light within her eyes.

The horse neighed uneasily, fighting its rider, not wanting to run further down the beaten road. Kyle kicked it hard in the sides. “Move, you whore!” The horse clamped down on its bit, obeying.

“She’s with her own kind now. There’s nothing more you could do for her. Besides, she was naked and drowned, so you weren’t doing all that great of a job,” Eustace said, scooping gold coins into a second box. “Who can blame you? It’s all the common man knows how to do: break things.”

Kyle’s brow turned inwards, the weight of the gold outweighing the weight of his insults. “Her ‘own kind’ put her in this goddamned position.”

“Speaking of positions,” the Regent walked up to him, pushing the bribe into Kyle’s chest, “Just between us men, tell me. You’re a handsome guy with a pretty captive all alone in the woods. Did anything happen?” He looked the Captain in the eye as he asked, “Anything unbecoming of a lady?”

“No,” he lied. He was helping her, Kyle rationalized. He knew enough about “high society” to understand that a woman’s chastity was worth her weight in gold. Hell, he was holding the price in his hand. Besides, he wasn’t going to divulge details about Jacqueline’s curves or taste to an overeager old man, regardless of the circumstances.

“Oh, good,” Eustace replied as he patted Kyle on the shoulder, giving a large smile. He was seemingly jubilant over the answer. “I’m glad there’s still a decent businessman out there.”

“I’m not leaving until I know she’s alright,” Kyle interjected, changing the topic.

“Of course.”

Jacqueline’s body, her sounds, and that moment were all his. No one would pry it from him. The banging and clacking of the coins was starting to eat at the Captain’s psyche. Old habits die hard, and damn him for it.

Something glinted out of the darkness, sparkling like the tail of a comet in the moonlight.

The horse reared up, neighing unhappily. Lost in thought and unprepared, Kyle fell backwards off the monster, smacking his back into the dirt. Groaning, he turned sideways, feeling the wind knocked out of him.

Looking up, he saw a blade buried near hilt-deep into a tree, still shaking and vibrating from the power of its hit. The captain recognized it instantly as his rapier. The same weapon he threw into…

His pupils constricted. The captain pulled his new sword from its sheath. It was a generic broadsword that felt heavy and clumsy in his hand.

Rising from the shadows was Father Cordinae, covering a sucking chest wound with his hand. Looking quite ghastly, he threw himself forward, kicking dust upwards from the ground.

“Persistent son of a bitch…” Kyle growled, using the flat of the large blade to counter the fists of the assassin, half sympathetic to the corpselike condition of the man. “I’ll gladly kill you again.” He pushed his attacker back with a great heave.

Sliding back, Father Cordinae laughed dryly. His wound sounded moist upon his ribcage. “I thought you cared about the Princess.” He rushed Kyle again, keeping his resolve. His wet fabric dragged across the road, giving him the appearance of the Grim Reaper himself. Bloody hands lashed out for Kyle, one cracking him across the jaw.

“I do! But it’s complicated!” Holding the side of his face, he brought the sword down on the father.

The old man only put up his arm, letting the sword dig its blade into his flesh. “You’re not using your full potential.” The cut hadn’t completely severed his arm. He was beyond feeling earthly pain. In the twilight of his time, he now only had infinite wisdom. It was foolish trying to extract life from the girl. Grief is a sickness upon the soul and Father Cordinae had tried to sooth it by causing agony. Now he didn’t feel anything. “Don’t insult me by holding back,” the older man antagonized him, his smile visible in the dark.

Crimson blood dripped into the dirt. Kyle only frowned. His opponent was already on his way out of this life. Why hurt him?

“Children call things ‘complicated.’ They can’t commit. You either do or you don’t.” The father was on him again, his condition not affecting his speed. The man’s pruned fingers reached for the meat of Kyle’s throat.

He knocked the attack back, smacking his face with the thick end of his hilt.

“I don’t need the opinions of a dead man!” Now the Captain was on the offensive, swinging downward upon the shadow, cutting through fabric and flesh.

Taking the abuse, the assassin didn’t put much effort into dodging. The punishment would purify him for the Kingdom of God, hoping to bleed out his sins. “And if you care for her, you’ve left her in the worse sort of company.” Feeling the sword’s edge bury into his shoulder, the father gripped the sword and forced it out.

“He’ll marry her! He’ll give her the happily-ever-after all girls want!” Kyle withdrew his blade through Father Cordinae’s hands, nearly severing them.

“Boys break new toys quickly,” he wheezed, “but if you do not care, and it is indeed too complicated, then it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, then.”

Kyle brought his sword down again, chasing after the elusive shadow. “What IN THE FUCK do you want from me?!” His short temper boiled over, the nagging feeling within his gut getting more confirmation. The more emotion that built up, the idea of her being in someone else’s arms, the idea of anyone else owning his Princess…The crisp realization of “his Princess” caused him to hack faster and harder at the father.

“I just want to hear it. There’s too much villainy in the world,” he said, taking hack after hack, his vision began to blur, hearing his own pulse within his ears. His eyes connected with Kyle’s for a moment, and the old man could see what he had wanted to see since the fight began. He finally saw sincerity. Assassination was an ugly business, and he was done with all the evil of this world.

Father Cordinae was done being its harbinger.

A stationary target was easy enough to hit. Kyle plunged his sword into the man’s center again.

“I do. I care about her and I can’t shake it. Tell me why the Regent is bad.” The captain grabbed the man’s shoulder, forcing his corpse onto the sword, unsure if this was trickery.

It didn’t feel any different than the state of dying the father was already in. Cold was creeping up his feet, life literally draining from him. Inhaling, he looked at Kyle. “I didn’t always serve the Queen. The Regent likes his women temporarily.” Blood obstructed his words as death rose up his legs. He grabbed onto the front of Kyle’s shirt, impaling himself more. “Behind the estate is a cemetery of unmarked graves. It goes on for miles. He even hunts upon it.”

Kyle stared at the father’s mouth, listening, breathing deeply.

“He wouldn’t. With her, he could be a king.” It was absolutely ludicrous to kill her. “S-she’s much more valuable alive.”

The assassin gave a bloody smile of indifference. It mattered little whether or not the Captain believed him. Death’s fingers wrapped around his trunk, crawling up to his ribs. “A man and his impulses override even the most sound of reasoning,” he coughed again, his blood splashing across Kyle’s shirt. Maybe Novice could have had someone love her, if he had let her have any sort of normal life. “B-besides,” he wheezed, “she’s already dead on paper.”

Looking away, Kyle kneeled down, helping the man to the ground.

Gasping, Father Cordinae didn’t think this little stunt would completely rectify his mistakes, but there was never an inappropriate time to start. He felt his grip weakening and his will to hold on was fading.

There was nothing else this vessel could accomplish. Eventually, the moon faded to nothing more than a speck into eternity in his eyes.

Kyle stood up without muttering a word, pulling the sword from the man’s insides. His enemy’s blood pooled around the soles of his boots. The wind blew, rustling the tops of the forest.

The cold fact was he did care about Jacqueline. He didn’t know if he loved her, or if this is what love felt like, although caring was a good place to start. It did him no good, however, seeing that the Princess wasn’t around and that he had left her in the care of a literal lady killer.

A soft chewing sound interrupted his thoughts. His horse was peacefully gnawing on a low branch.

Grabbing the horse, he climbed on giving it a rough kick. He had to get to Paradiso. Had anyone told him he’d go from kidnapping to rescuing, Kyle would have laughed.

Hell, he still may later. First, he still had to pull it off successfully for it to be classified as a rescue.