To Catch a Merchant Princess Ch. 01

She tried to crawl carefully out from under the tree's dew-sodden boughs, but still managed to smear sap across her forehead and acquire a new tear in her gown. As soon as she stood, she examined what was left of the dress, and knew that she had to abandon it. The bodice was torn, revealing almost the entirety of her right breast. The rest was more rips and tatters than gown. Every tear could trip her up if she needed to run, and every trailing piece of material was something else to snag on branches and thorns.

The other dress in her bag was as ornate as the one barely hanging onto her lithe frame. It might preserve her modesty for a short time, but would present exactly the same problems. That left her carefully hidden practice uniform in the bottom of the bag. She'd stayed too long in the courtyard to wash the garments, as she usually did before returning home, and the thought of putting it on caused her to instinctively crinkle her nose. A shifting breeze pointedly reminded her that she smelled none to sweet anyway.

The form-fitting uniform was the only sensible choice. While the padding was far from real armor, she couldn't ignore even that limited bit of protection. If nothing else, it might stop some of the thorns and brambles from reaching her skin to add to the painful array of cuts and scratches already covering her body.

Alicia stripped off her gown, and tried to decide what to do with it. In the end, she settled upon stuffing it back in her bag. She found that she felt a little more at ease once she donned the padded pants and shirt of her practice uniform. She could move easily, and swiftly, without fear of her skirts catching on every entanglement. Her stolen dagger fit in the sheathe on her belt, if not perfectly.

A nearby stream allowed her to quench her thirst, but she had no way to carry more except for the tin cup she'd stolen from her kidnapper. With no way to keep the water from sloshing out as she walked — let alone if she needed to run — Alicia drank her fill and prayed that she could find water again. She considered washing some of the grime, sweat, and sap off her, but urgency and fear prodded her to move.

The woods was not large, and Alicia could see the brighter sunlight marking the edge of the trees, but she thought it best to avoid the open spaces beyond. Her captors were likely looking for her, and any cover would make it more difficult to find her. Since she had no idea where she was, following the stretch of trees in one direction at least gave her something resembling a destination, as well. Decision made, she started walking, picking her way through the fallen limbs and undergrowth.

The endless mosaic of trees, ferns, and woodland creatures stretched on and on. Alicia kept a brisk pace, glad that she'd chosen to do the exercises Trell had taught her daily. If not for that, she knew that she would have probably collapsed hours ago. As it was, her muscles all burned and ached from the prolonged walking and carrying the weight of her day bag. As the sun climbed, she determined that she was moving more or less north.

Every snap of a twig sent her heart racing. It took a great deal of willpower not to run, and even more to put her dagger away and move on afterward. Just as her stomach started rumbling, she happened upon a mulberry tree. Realizing that she had only her little bit of purloined bread and cheese, she supplemented a small portion of it with as many of the purple berries as she thought she could eat without becoming ill. Then, she tore a square from her tattered gown to create a pouch, and filled it with berries as well. She knew that there were many edible plants, but such was outside the scope of her education. She could only trust those few things that she knew, such as the mulberry. Another stream provided her with water, helping to restore her strength.

Alicia reached the end of the tract of trees shortly before sundown. She stared out into the rolling hills, knowing that danger could lurk behind any of them. Unfortunately, she knew all too well that the same dangers — and more — could very well surround her in the wood.

Tentatively, she hovered along the edge of the wood, just within the tree line, looking for any evidence of civilization. She saw a road with a lone wagon following it, but feared to approach. She might find aid, but she also might find her captors. The wagon looked no different from the one that had served as her prison, from a distance.

Despair quite nearly enveloped her again, but then she saw something — a fence. It looked ancient and ill maintained, but it was a fence. Beyond that, she could just make out a turf house and a few outbuildings.

Alicia bit her lip and contemplated her options. As with following the wood, any decision felt as good as another to her. All presented danger, and all presented hope. She decided to risk going to the house and asking for help. She had some coin in her bag, so she might be able to purchase food, shelter, and perhaps even a way home.

After another long, careful observation of the surrounding countryside, she sprinted toward the house, trying to stay low so that the swaying grasses and surrounding hills would hide her. As she neared the place, she slowed. Something felt wrong. She couldn't quite put a finger on what was giving her that feeling until she reached the fence. From that vantage point, she could tell that the place was abandoned.

Winded, and with her hopes dashed, Alicia dropped to her knees and shook her head, her eyes misting over. She took a deep breath and let it out in a dejected sigh before standing again. If nothing else, the place offered shelter from both the elements and prying eyes. Not knowing what else to do, she continued to the squat, mud and sod building, and peeked inside.

Once her eyes adjusted, she noticed a hodgepodge of cast-off items lying around on the dirt floor. She guessed that travelers had used the abandoned house as a temporary shelter with some regularity over the years, and had left a few things behind here and there. While the objects were refuse to those who had left them, they were treasures to Alicia.

A pair of gourds attached to leather straps were obviously crude canteens. While both were cracked at the top, they at least provided her with the means to carry water. A tattered, course bundle of cloth proved to be a blanket. It was dusty, musty, and had what she thought were horse hairs clinging to it, but it was better than nothing. A wooden pail that looked sound enough to hold water was the last of her treasures.

With darkness rapidly descending, Alicia decided to spend the night. She doubted that she would find anywhere more comfortable or safe, and she could feel the exhaustion of her flight threatening to overwhelm her. The bucket offered a temptation too difficult for even her weariness to diminish, however. She warily carried it to a creek meandering through the valley near the house to fill it, and then returned to her shelter for the night.

The pail proved sound, as she had hoped, and she managed to avoid splashing out much of the water while carrying the heavy bucket back to the turf house. Once inside, she moved to a corner away from both the doorway, and the area where she planned to sleep. There, she stripped off her clothing and used another torn chunk of her ruined gown as a washcloth to remove as much of the filth covering her as possible. Though she wished she could wash her clothes, she felt far better after the semblance of a bath. She did use the last of the water to wash her panties, and hung those from a wooden peg set in the wall to dry, pulling out another pair from her bag.

As she stepped into her panties, Alicia rubbed her fingers over her mound and frowned. The stubble irritated her, and was starting to itch. The Baroness had suggested the grooming tip, and Alicia had come to enjoy the clean feeling of her baby-smooth labia, framed by trimmed, dark blonde curls. With no way to remedy the stubble, she sighed and pulled up her panties.

She crinkled her nose against the smell of her clothing, and put it on as well. She considered putting on her clean gown, but decided against it for the same reasons that she'd chosen the practice uniform in the first place. She was far from out of danger.

After another portion of bread, cheese, and mulberries, she drifted off to sleep with her head resting on the bedraggled horse blanket.

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Hope you've enjoyed this first chapter. The second is finished, and I'll post it in a few days. The third is underway, and I believe the full story will run four chapters. I'd originally planned to wait until the story was complete to post it, but decided that I'd gone far too long without releasing anything. This story marks a shift in my writing focus, concentrating on painting the world around my characters, something I've grown lax on of late. I'm applying the same focus to the next chapter of Sisters of the Mists, for those awaiting the next chapter of that tale.

Apologies for the long wait. All I can say is that I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances of my life at the moment.

Please do let me know what you think with your vote/comment. I'm anxious to see whether my readers like the changes I'm making to my writing.