The Jewel of the North

Chapter 1

Tamm slipped noiselessly from his horse’s back and tethered the gelding to a tree. He gave him a long rein so that the horse could graze while he was gone, and then did the same for the second gelding he’d been leading through the dark forest. Both mounts had their hooves wrapped in black cloth to muffle their passage, and their leather trappings were similarly dyed black. Even the metallic links and joints of the horses’ harness and saddles were packed in cloth to prevent both noise or the reflecting glint of moonlight.

The edge of the forest was but a mile distant, and Tamm wasted no time in navigating through the trees, keeping to the shadows. The enemy king’s patrols wouldn’t be in the depths of the woods anyway, he knew, but he was a master of stealth and speed, and traversing such land was second nature to the would-be rescuer. For that was what this mission was, a rescue mission.

Tamm had to grin at that thought. His talents were almost exclusively attuned to assassination, and while he understood that many of the skills were transferable to a clandestine rescue of a hostage, the irony that tonight he would be saving a life instead of taking one was not lost on him. It was desperation, Tamm believed, that had brought Queen Cassara’s messenger to his guild, seeking out his services to retrieve her long-imprisoned daughter. Desperation, where all other avenues of saving her daughter, the Princess Liandra, also known as the Jewel of the North, had failed. And there had been a lot of attempts at bringing Liandra out of the clutches of the enemy king over the past decade, Tamm knew, a lot. But the fact of the matter was, for over ten years, the Jewel of the North had remained a prisoner of the enemy king.

She was alive, though, that much was known. While none of the queen’s people had seen anything of their princess since she was but eighteen years of age, she had been permitted to send letters on a monthly basis.

Tamm shook his head as he reached the end of the trees, still grinning to himself. Rich people and their self-made issues. The queen had had to have known that the castle he was now creeping toward had been under threat all those years ago, when the so-called enemy king was amassing his forces at the border, everyone else certainly had. So why she’d allowed her prized daughter to vacation there in such a turbulent summer was anyone’s guess. It didn’t matter to Tamm, of course. All that mattered to Tamm was the size of this contract, and it was the biggest he’d ever seen.

The castle walls were distant, but his eyes were good, and the sky was cloudless. Silvery moonlight illuminated a cleared perimeter of at least two-hundred yards, broken only by a deep, slow flowing river winding out from beneath the fortress, and a straight road leading up to the castle’s gates. Guards moved along the crenelated walls in flickering spots of orange torchlight, and patrols of four moved up and down the road.

The castle backed onto mountains, and they rose like sharp, dragon’s teeth high into the starry night sky. Tamm had studied the architectural charts of the castle a hundred times, and as he set off across the open stretch, crouched low and moving swiftly along the edge of the cleared ground, he recalled the details in his mind. Those charts were, of course, ten years out of date, but Tamm doubted the enemy king had made any major restructurings, though he could not be sure. The night was young, however, meaning he’d have plenty of time to search for the princess should her suite of rooms have been moved.

Tamm reached the base of the twelve-foot tall outer ringwall, and paused for a moment, listening. A set of footsteps passed somewhere above, and he began his ascent, his strong fingers easily finding holds in the stonework which would have seemed perfectly smooth to all but the best of climbers. He doubted Liandra herself was an expert climber, but he planned on using ropes for their escape and down was easier than up.

Folding himself over the lip of the wall, he dropped down onto to the walkway, his back pressed against the side. There was a guard to his left, but he was pulling further away, and so Tamm headed right until he came to an inner staircase, where he quickly descended. It was a simple ten step dash to the next wall, and within a matter of heartbeats, Tamm was up and over that one too.

The gardens he found himself in were even easier to traverse. Plenty of bushes and trees concealed his advance, should any of the guards’ eyes have been pointing inwards, and it was not long before Tamm was scaling the outside wall of castle itself.

He had briefly considered subduing a guard and stealing his livery, but the problem with such techniques was that they were unpredictable. Who knew when that guard’s absence would be noticed, or his slumbering, stripped body discovered? Alarms would be immediately raised, and then Tamm would be racing against a clock he had not set himself. So no, he would simply infiltrate the castle the old-fashioned way.

The master assassin found an open window on the third floor and eased it open quietly. He lowered himself gently into the room beyond and closed the window behind him. The room was dark and unoccupied, lined with bookshelves and books and possessing of a faintly musty smell. He’d found the library, exactly where he’d expected it to be. With any luck, then, the princess would also be on the third floor.

Tamm crossed the room on silent feet and put his ear to the wooden door. He waited for twenty heartbeats before slowly turning the handle and opening it a fraction. Light spilled into the dark library, and Tamm backed away for a few moments, one hand straying to the knife at his belt, waiting and listening. He heard nothing, and returned to the door, putting his eye to the crack.

A richly decorated corridor awaited him, lit by a number of torches in sconces and even a low hanging chandelier filled with candles. It seemed deserted, but Tamm doubted it would be so for long. Wasting no more time, he left the library, pulling the door quietly closed behind him, and jumped up onto a highly polished table pushed up against one wall. From there, he reached up, grabbing a hold of a crossbeam and swung himself up in one lithe move, perching on the beam. The crossbeams formed an almost perfect walkway, and Tamm could only imagine that he and the princess would be able to escape using them as well.

It took but a handful of minutes before he had made it to the suite of rooms he believed would belong to Liandra, and he’d only seen one set of guards in that time. All he’d had to do was stay still, crouching above them in the shadows as they walked beneath him, entirely oblivious to his presence. He dropped from the beams silently and put his ear to the door. He heard nothing, and as noiselessly as ever, Tamm slipped into the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

A sweet, warm smell greeted his nose, and Tamm was in no doubt that someone did indeed live in these quarters. Whether it was the princess or not remained to be seen, however. The scent was not perfume, he concluded quickly, rather the alluring odour of baked pastries and boiled fruits and berries.

Tamm moved into the room, illuminated only by moonlight coming in through the partially curtained windows. It was only an antechamber, as he’d known it would be, and his eyes briefly fell on a number of wheeled trollies upon which empty plates and serving crockery still rested. He crossed to the door that would lead to the main bedroom of this suite, and hearing nothing on the other side of it, opened it a fraction and slipped through.

The darkness here was deeper, the curtains more opaque, though the sweet, warm smell had only intensified. Crouching, Tamm stayed still, waiting for his eyes to adjust even more to the darkness before moving further into the room. It would not do to bang into a vase and startle the princess awake with a scream now, would it?

As he waited, he was rewarded with the sound of breathing coming from the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. His eyes could just make out what looked like a large mound of cushions or pillows heaped in the middle of that bed, though the flimsy gauze drapes made it hard to see for sure. Tamm moved up alongside the bed and slowly pulled one of the curtains away.

It was only instinct that saved his mission, as the sight that greeted his eyes almost rendered him motionless. There was no mound of cushions or pillows, but a single, enormous person. A woman, Tamm realised, sprawled on her side so that her huge, uncovered breasts and even larger stomach bulged toward him across the mattress. Her eyes fluttered open and found his silhouetted face and she opened her mouth to scream, but Tamm’s reactions were fast, regardless of his shock. His hand shot out and covered her soft, fleshy lips, and he put a finger to his lips and made a small, shushing sound.

“Princess Liandra,” he whispered, “I have been sent by your mother, Queen Cassara.”

Her wide, frightened eyes shook.

“Princess Liandra,” Tamm repeated, “I am here to help you. I’m going to remove my hand now. Please, do not scream.”

If she did scream, Tamm could always escape again, he knew that. His mission would become impossible, of course, but looking at the massive woman filling the bed in front of him, he was beginning to realise his mission might already have become impossible.

“My mother?” Liandra whispered.

Tamm nodded.

“But I thought she’d given me up on me?” She said. “It’s been years since she sent her last champion to fight for my freedom.”

Tamm nodded again, and tried to keep his eyes on the princess’s round face. “I’m no champion,” he replied. “I’m here to help you escape by subtler means.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have anything you can put on?” Tamm asked.

It was only then that Liandra seemed to realise her own nakedness, and a flush of colour, just visible in the darkness, crept into her plump cheeks. She began the laborious task of pushing herself into a sitting position, the bed creaking and groaning beneath her as rolls of fat rippled and shuddered heavily. Sitting, her pale belly filled her lap, reaching to her knees, her large breasts hanging down, one on each side of that preposterous gut. He had never seen hips so wide before, almost spreading from one side of the double mattress to the other. Liandra pulled a blanket across her expanse of skin. The gesture was almost hilarious, Tamm thought to himself, but the seriousness of the situation stole away any mirth.

Covered up, sort of, the huge woman pointed to a closet on the other side of the bed. Tamm crossed the room and opened the cupboard doors. His ears detected sound from the antechamber and he glanced over his shoulder, seeing a thin line of yellow light seeping in beneath the door.

“Hide!” Liandra suddenly hissed.

Tamm entered the closet, pulling the door closed behind him. He put his eye to the empty keyhole and saw the bedroom doors opening as a man wearing a cook’s uniform entered, pulling a wheeled trolley into the room. That fruity, sweet pastry smell wafted over to Tamm’s hiding place.

“Princess?” The man seemed startled to find Liandra already awake and sitting up.

“About time,” the princess said, almost scolding. “I was getting hungry.”

The man chuckled to himself, drawing the trolley with its candles up alongside the princess’s bed and removing the lid of a giant serving dish.

“You know your routine,” the man replied.

Steam wafted up from what turned out to be the biggest pie Tamm had ever seen, and the cook wasted no time in spooning out a great helping, covering it with cream, and passing it to Liandra. Tamm’s eye widened behind the keyhole as he watched the enormous woman devour the obscenely generous portion before holding out her plate for more. This process, Tamm found out, repeated itself until the entire fruit pie had been eaten.

“You were indeed hungry,” the cook remarked, taking the emptied plate back from the princess and replacing it on the trolley.

“I had a nightmare,” Liandra replied, shrugging her round shoulders as she wiped her mouth with the back of her rotund wrist.

“Oh, I hope it wasn’t a bad one. Want the rest of the cream?” The man asked.

“Obviously,” the princess answered. “Oh, and could you leave one of the candles? I think it might be a while before I get back to sleep, and I’d like to do a bit of reading.”

A few minutes later and the man had gone, pushing the empty trolley out of the bedroom and closing the door, wishing the Jewel of the North sweet dreams before making his exit. Tamm waited another minute before slipping out of the cupboard and coughing slightly. The bed groaned once more as Liandra shifted to face him.

“Do you have a plan, then?” She whispered.

“I had one,” Tamm replied, figuring honesty was the only way forward here, “but I doubt it’s feasible now.”

“Oh,” Liandra said again.

“Do you have free roam of the castle?” Tamm asked, racking his brains for a solution.

“No,” the princess replied.

“Great,” the master assassin muttered. “Do you at least have any travel clothes?”

Liandra shook her head. “I’ve been confined to these rooms for over a decade. What do you think?”

“I think we don’t have much chance of pulling this off, is what I think.”

“But you think there is a chance, then?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “Maybe.”

Tamm turned back to examine the wardrobe. Most of the garments were made of gauze, or impractical lace, designed to conceal and contain absolutely nothing. There were no boots, no leggings, no tunics, no simple blouses or anything of that ilk at all.

He heard the bed groaning behind him and glanced over his shoulder in time to see Liandra getting up by rocking her huge body to her feet. The princess allowed the blanket to fall away from her bare form as she crossed to the wardrobe, one thigh pushing up one side of her hanging, bulging belly at a time. Her footfalls were so heavy they sent shivers through the stone floor, and she was not, Tamm could conclude, fast. She was, however, slightly taller than he himself was, though that was the least of his worries.

“This is probably the best option,” Liandra said, reaching into the cupboard and pulling out a large, because of course it was large, swathe of brownish cloth that was, at least, not see-through like everything else seemed to be.

“Do you have any footwear?” Tamm asked, glancing down at her wide feet and round ankles.

“Just sandals,” the princess replied, as she began pulling the brown cloth on over her head, tugging what was actually a dress over her gigantic body.

She had to tuck her boobs, one at a time, into the bosom, and then settle the dress over the largest swells of her stomach and hips. Her hair, of a brown to match the dress, she pulled into a pony tail, and Tamm watched her massive biceps swinging as she tied a ribbon around it.

“All right,” she said, steadying herself against one wall as she slipped her sandals onto her feet, a process which Tamm could see was done entirely by feel, as the princess could not see past the mound that was her own stomach and breasts, “let’s go.”

“Our only chance,” Tamm began, “is the river.”

“The river?” Liandra asked, a slight frown appearing on her forehead.

“Would you rather climb the mountains?” Tamm snapped, frustration getting the better of him.

The frown deepened, but she said nothing.

“Come on, princess,” Tamm said, and crossed to the antechamber door. It was silent beyond. “You make your way as quickly as you can to the basement dock, you know the way?”

Liandra nodded.

“Be as quiet as you can,” he continued, “and no matter what you see, do not scream. I’ll be close by and ahead of you. If all goes well, we won’t need to talk before we get to the dock.”

Liandra nodded again.

Tamm opened the door slowly and glanced over his shoulder before exiting into the antechamber.

“Good luck, princess,” he whispered.

***