The Princess and The Pirate
Chapter 12

Günter was sprinting across a field, a good shortcut to get directly to the ocean bluffs. He didn’t remember so much farmland separating the city of Rocqueburne from the sea; so much of the forest had been lost to industrialization.

He trekked up a beaten path worn by hooves and wagon wheels. No one could have made the trip any faster - any adult couldn’t have done this in an afternoon!

The Queen would be so proud of him. Just the idea of her praise made him pick up the pace.

The messenger heard the low singing first. Within the walls of the modest building in the distance, the monks’ voices resonated into the land. Their building sat at the highest point of the bluffs, singing to the vast ocean, surrounded by tall grass. They had a small garden and pen of animals, making the Monastery of the Humble Lady self-sufficient.

Basking in the monks’ low hymn and the warm sunshine, Günter suddenly felt his knees go weak. As if he were overcome with the sudden need for sleep, the young boy simply keeled over, mid-step. Hitting the path chin first, a red line appeared across his neck, blood seeping from it onto the dirt.

Two cloaked figures, one much slighter and smaller than the other, manifested from the high grass surrounding the area.

“Novice, that was a true shot,” the taller character cloaked in dark brown said to the smaller one. Approaching the boy’s body, the tall figure picked up the heavy satchel from the dirt.

Inside was a note wrapped around a solid gold ingot.

“Father Cordinae, I’m calling on an old favor that you owe me utilizing your skills, with incentive. Accept this boy as a sealing of our contract. Aboard the Silver Ogre’s Revenge is a package that needs dismantling. I expect results, sooner rather than later.”

He knew it was the Queen. The cloaked figure looked over the cliff side onto the bustling port enterprise below them. The eyes behind the hood analyzed the ships awaiting their goods and the ships lingering at sea. One in particular was away from the crowd, idle.

He took the gold ingot into his robe and flicked the note to his apprentice. “Destroy this and rid the road of the body.”

“Yes, Father Cordinae,” said an obedient, young, female voice while taking the withered parchment from her master’s fingers.

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