certainly hadn’t lived the life of a royal Princess and she believed passionately that she’d earned the right not to be referred to any longer, as a child.
Zephany had just turned sixteen years of age. Her entire life had been spent on the run being hunted by her ruthless and determined uncle, who she knew would most probably kill her given the chance because of her royal blood. She’d had to grow up fast in her world and she’d learnt how to ride and shoot as other children learned how to laugh and play, both had become second nature to her. She was educated in military tactics, knew how to live off the land and had studied intently the art of leadership. Her teacher for all of these things, in the various camps she’d found herself in, was Knesh Corian. He was chosen specifically for the task by King Artrex, quite simply because he was the best of all his men and the only one Artrex trusted with his daughter’s upbringing. This imposed situation had seen Zephany and Knesh develop a curious relationship; they loved and trusted each other completely, but neither would dare openly display affection for the other, or even admit to it, for fear of crossing the self-imposed, pupil-teacher boundaries.
Zephany was a beautiful young lady, her blonde, shoulder-length, wavy hair complemented perfectly her attractive emerald-green eyes. She had a confident manner that someone of her age rarely possesses and it would, on occasion, lend itself to bouts of extreme arrogance, for which she would usually quickly apologise once it was challenged. Knesh had taught her to be a wise and fair ruler, he believed that she would one day inevitably succeed to the throne, for however brief a period given their dire circumstances, and he wanted to ensure that she would maintain her father’s support amongst his people when she did.
She was dressed in a knee-length, cream-coloured dress which hitched up as she rode her white stallion, revealing her suntanned and muscular legs. Above the dress she wore a brown, leather body armour and armguards (or bracers) that protected her forearms when shooting her bow. The arrows were kept in a matching brown, leather quiver which was slung across her back and her bow was often carried in such a fashion, although she would have it in her hands whenever she wasn’t riding. Her specially-made, lightweight sword was kept in the saddle on her horse, and she had a small cloth-handled dagger hanging from her belt for personal protection.
Zephany stared down at her brown, strapped sandals and began to fiddle with a strap, deliberately looking down at the floor in an attempt to conceal her disappointment from her father.
“You are a fine warrior, Princess,” stated Knesh deliberately, “you have covered all possibilities. Thank you for your excellent report.”
Zephany’s expression and mood lifted a little at being given the recognition she craved, even though she really wanted to receive it from her father. She stood up and bowed her head slightly. “Thank you Gerada, so what are our plans now?” she asked, eager to involve herself in the decisions that were about to be made.
“We have decided to hold this position for a few days, Princess.” replied Knesh, having now conceded the point and seeing no advantage in displaying a difference of opinion to Zephany. “We are safe here and we need to rest.” he added.
“But... What of my uncle? His armies will surely find us if we stay. If they use the stone....”
“That my daughter, could be said at any time and any place!” interrupted Artrex sharply, deliberately trying to put an end to the discussion before it had started. “We have to rest, our people are weary. And besides, you have provided us with ample warning of attack. We will be prepared to move if we have to, but for the present, we stay.”
Zephany saw that the decision had already been made, any further arguing with her father was futile, she turned and whistled to her horse, which pricked up its ears and strode majestically over to her upon hearing the command. She mounted it with one great athletic bound, using her strong arms to vault herself into the saddle. She took up the reigns confidently and turned the horse around to face her father.
“I just wanted the chance to fight!” she exclaimed defiantly, before swiftly riding away between the trees to join her own soldiers in another part of the camp.