Chapter Five: Runaway Princess

Throp reached down and grabbed up Nib, who was on the ground, looking dazed. Throp had forgotten he was sleeping around the princess’s neck and she must have ditched him when she took off. Nib wriggled in his left hand and in his right was the princess’s chest, which banged against his legs as he made his way through the crowd.

He spotted her, her lavender dress standing out against the plainer-clothed townspeople. He made his way through the crowd, earning dirty looks as he bumped into people. She had stopped for a moment, looking around as if to decide where to go next. He pushed forward and she turned, saw him and darted off. An ox-cart rolled in front of Throp, slowing him down and when it was gone, so was the princess. He pushed on, searching for a flash of her light colored dress. He reached the edge of the town, near the forest and the road where they had entered. The crowd was thinner here and there was no sign of the princess.

“Ohhhhh, what am I gonna do?” Throp cried. He sat down on the ground next to the chest and put his head in his hands. He couldn’t go home and tell the king he had lost his daughter. But maybe they didn’t have to know? He could just pretend everything had gone as planned.

No, he realized, he was to return with a letter from the captain of the Trident. And besides that, eventually someone would figure it when the princess didn’t arrive in Berabeth as she was supposed to.

“Ohhhhh,” he groaned. “Nib, I should have trained you to hunt princesses, not rabbits.” He looked down at the ferret, who was intensely sniffing the lid of the chest.

“Huh,” Throp said. He opened the chest and Nib jumped inside, disappearing into the folds of fabric. Throp watched as the lump under the clothes moved around. Nib was always a curious creature, which is why he so often got into trouble and he was now inspecting every inch of the princess’s belongings. They probably smelled like her.

“Oh, what the hell,” Throp finally said under his breath. The worst that could happen is that he would lose track of Nib and as he’d already lost a princess, a ferret wasn’t a big deal in comparison.

He rummaged through the chest until he found Nib and pulled him out, along with a brassiere.

“Whoops.” He stuffed the brassiere back in, closed the chest and put Nib on the ground.

“G’on then,” he said, using the phrase that told Nib they were ready go hunting. Nib cocked a head at him, then took off in the direction of the forest, his brown body nearly blending in with the dirt road.

A feeling of hope rose inside of Throp, but after a few minutes of chasing Nib, he realized they were deep into the forest and he would probably soon see Nib disappear down a rabbit hole. Just when Throp was ready to give up, Nib stopped at the base of a tree, then began to climb up it.

Throp stopped and bent to catch his breath.

“Nib, what are you -?” He looked up.

Encased in a tangle of rope that was swinging from a thick branch was the princess.

“I guess he does like you!” Throp called up. Nib was clinging to the rope and sniffing at the princess, who was squirming, trying to get untangled.

“Get me down!” she cried. “This trap was set by bandits! Get me down before they come back.”

“I’m not sure I know how,” Throp called back.

“The rope wrapped around the base of the tree,” the princess said. “Loosen it, but slowly!” Throp inspected the tree and did find a length of rope wrapped around the tree trunk and partially hidden by branches and twigs. He looked back up.

“If you know so much about bandit traps, how’d you get caught in one?”

“Just get me down!”

“Aaaaaargh!”

From behind the tree Throp heard a savage cry and suddenly two men were on him. One brandished a short knife and the other a club made out of a thick branch. The one with the club approached and brought it down towards him, but Throp was faster and significantly stronger. He caught the club with one hand and swung a fist, connecting with the man’s jaw and sending him spinning. The man fell to the ground and lay there. Throp turned on the other one and gave him a questioning look. The man raised his arms in surrender, then turned and dashed off into the forest, leaving his friend behind.

Throp walked over to the other bandit, who lay groaning on the ground. He gave him a gentle kick with his boot and the man looked up. Blood dripped from his nose and when Throp brandished the club at him he quickly scooted backwards and looked around for his companion. Throp took a step forward and the bandit stood up and ran off down the road, tripping as he went.

“That wasn’t what I expected from bandits,” Throp said. “Kind of cowardly aren’t they.”

“Of course they are,” the princess said from above him. “If they weren’t they wouldn’t be bandits. Now get me down.” Throp went to the tree and found the rope. He started to untie it, but stopped.

“Then what?” he called up to the princess.

“What do you mean?”

“After I let you down. Then what happens?”

“I’ll… come with you to ship, of course,” the Princess said, but there was a moment of hesitation. Throp shook his head. He walked to an adjacent tree, leaned against it and looked up at her.

“I don’t think you will,” he said.

“You must release me,” she cried, once again putting on what Throp had designated her “royalty” voice. “The bandits may return, they may bring others and -”

“And I’ll fight them off, just like I was chosen to do, right?”

“Argh, let me down!” the princess cried, struggling against the ropes.

“Promise me you’ll come with me to the ship,” Throp said. The princess stopped thrashing, staring him down. He shrugged and sat down on a gnarled root at the base of his tree.

“Then I guess we’ll sit here forever,” he said. “Nib, c’mere!”

The ferret climbed his way down the tree and scampered over to him. He pulled an apple from his satchel and took a bite, then shared it with Nib.

He was bluffing about waiting forever. All it would take was one merchant making his way down this road and the princess screaming her head off. Then he really would be in trouble. But what else was he supposed to do? He wondered if he could keep her tied in the ropes and drag her to the ship. It would serve her right but probably wouldn’t look good to present her to the captain that way.

They sat in silence for half an hour, the princess quietly seething, Throp trying desperately to come up with a plan.

“Okay,” she said, startling him out of his thoughts. “I have any idea. A way we can both win.” Throp doubted it.

“Go on,” he said. The princess sighed.

“Can you at least lower me down a bit so I can talk to you face to face?” Throp considered it for a moment, then went to the tree. He tried to loosen the rope slowly but suddenly it was being pulled through his hands as the princess fell to the ground. Throp gripped the rope tight, stopping her just before she hit the earth and leaving slight rope burns on the palms of his hands.

He retied the rope, leaving her dangling just a few feet off the ground. Now that she was closer he could see how uncomfortable the rudimentary trap had been. The ropes dug into skin and her arms and legs were mostly immobile. He felt a little guilty.

“Okay?” he said.

The princess twisted so she was facing him.

“Okay,” she said. “What I want is to not have to marry Prince Edwin, right? And what you want is to put someone on that ship so you can go home, right?”

“What I have to do,” Throp corrected. “Is put you on that ship.” The princess shook her head.

“The princess,” she said. “You have to put the princess on the ship.”

“But you are the princess.”

She grinned.

“But what if I don’t have to be?”

“I don’t follow,” Throp said, realizing that confusion had become his default state when dealing with the princess.

“Prince Edwin doesn’t know what I look like,” she said. “No one outside of Larowyn knows what I look like. What if I find someone, a girl who could take my place? Then you put her on the ship and everyone is happy.” He eyes shone with excitement but Throp wasn’t convinced.

“How will you find someone to take your place?” he asked.

“How hard would it be?” she said. “Who wouldn’t want to be a princess?”

“Besides you?” he asked. She chuffed.

"Right, I've had my fun. Time to let someone else have a chance.” She readjusted within the ropes. “This is really starting to hurt.” Throp hesitated, then decided she wouldn’t be able to outrun him in the woods with no crowd to hide in. He untied the rope and the princess hit the ground with a thud.

“Ow!”

“Sorry.”

She stood up and untangled herself from the rope. Throp readied himself in case she took off running. Would he be able to tackle the princess if he needed to? He didn’t want to find out.

“It’s perfect,” she said as she dusted herself off. “I’ll find a maiden, talk her into it, then I’ll go with her on the ship. I’ll teach her everything she needs to know about being a princess. No one will ever know.”

“I thought you didn’t want to go to Berabeth,” Throp said.

“I don’t have to. I can see my replacement to the coach and just stay in Port Baston.” Throp considered this. It didn’t feel right, any of it. But what other choice did he have, short of carrying her, kicking and screaming? In the end he’ll have done what he was supposed to do, which is put Princess Nicolette on the ship. What she chose to do after was none of his concern.

“How do I know you won’t disappear again once we get back to Portsmith?” he asked.

The princess put her hand to her chest and grabbed at a chain that hung around her neck. At the end of the chain hung a small, gold medallion, an intricate knotwork design stamped into it. Throp shook his head.

“I told you I don’t want-”

“This isn’t payment,” she interrupted. “It’s collateral.” She unhooked the chain from her neck and held the medallion out to him.

“This belonged to my grandmother,” she said.

“Queen Rosalind?” The princess shook her head.

“No, my mother’s mother. She was a commoner before she became royalty. She had the most amazing life.” The princess looked at the medallion, a hint of sadness in her eyes, but she shook it off quickly and looked back up at Throp. “It’s the only thing I have of hers and the only material thing I care anything about.” She held it out to Throp and he took it cautiously.

“Put it on,” she said. “You can not lose that. I’ll get it back from you when our deal is complete, when I’m on the ship.”

Throp clasped the chain around his neck and tucked the medallion into his shirt. The princess looked at him expectantly.

“Now you have to give something to me,” she said. Throp patted his empty pockets.

“I don’t have anything,” he said. The princess pointed to the ground.

“What about Nib?”

“He’s not exactly a family heirloom.”

“You have to give me something,” the princess insisted. “It doesn’t work otherwise.” Throp sighed and picked up Nib, who was still munching his apple and deposited him onto the princess’s arm. The ferret immediately ran up to her shoulders, draping himself like a stole.

“Right,” the princess said. “You agree to go along with my plan to find a girl to take my place and I agree to get on the ship and ensure you get your letter from the captain. Is that our deal?” She reached out a hand and Throp looked down at it, hesitating. Finally he took it and they shook. Her small warm hand practically disappeared inside his.

“The ship leaves in three hours,” Throp told her.

The princess nodded resolutely.

“I only need one.”