Chapter 4: The Fool's Errand
The Dale Arc
The king looked down at his daughter with some level of evenness, but she could still see the unmistakable contempt he was trying so very hard to fight. A month in her room had not done wonders for her looks. She appeared as a potted plant kept from sunlight for a few days. Noticeably, she had lost some weight. With no alcohol and rich food to put meat on her bones, and a steady diet of porridge and dried fruit for a month, time had taken its toll.
Still, her physical fitness hadn’t declined that much. Sure, she wasn’t in the fields or around town doing manual labor, but her attendants and others had been reporting Essenta had taken to exercising in her room, out of boredom, or something else. Regardless, the bags under her eyes and sallow guise didn’t suit her.
Essenta tried not to glower too heavily at her father. He held the cards at this game. Her mother and siblings looked on with some nervousness. The guards and ponies at court were rather silent.
The princess had been given little choice in coming, with the real threat of spending the rest of the year locked up, or worse, sent away with payment for somepony else’s trouble. She knew in her heart her father wasn’t bluffing about the dowry. She’d pissed him off to the point he’d get rid of her, even at a bit of a loss. What were a few thousand gold pieces and a worthless daughter to him? He’d do it as easily as blowing his nose or taking a royal shit.
Trying to keep her composure, Essenta was rather nervous. She truly had no idea what her father and his council had cooked up. If Dechaa’s father was kicked out of the meeting and/or refused to take part, whatever may have occurred, it wouldn’t be anything good. That was the only sure thing she felt about it.
The king leaned forward and what little chatter was going stopped, “Princess Essenta… You have been kept away from the ponies and things you love for a month now… You refused an audience two weeks ago. You made a fool of yourself, our subjects, your home, and your king. Not only that, you dragged the good name of another family through the mud you seem to love so much. You have committed acts of which decorum disallows mention. What could you possibly have to say for this?”
She thought a moment, What the fuck do you expect me to say? You demanded I come here, under threat of… something, and you treat me as if I begged an audience?
Essenta, inwardly seething, said what he wanted to hear, whether she meant it or not, “Father… my king… What you say is true. I refused an audience out of petulance. I have shamed Prince Fulco, his father, the king of Fulco, and his subjects. I have shamed you, my home, our subjects, and myself. I have… nothing to say in my defense. But for the things I have done… I am sorry. I do not know how I might atone for any of it, but I wish to hear what the king has to say… How may I begin to fix that which I have wronged?”
The king knew, as well as his daughter, this was an act. He’d have to be careful not to fall into whatever little game she was playing… if she had one. He must appear to be in control. King Dale and his council had thought long and hard about this. They must break the princess of her wild ways and fit her for marriage.
They had absolutely no thought to send her away with a dowry, without first trying to break her. They wanted the gold. They wanted the political connections. They wanted their neighbors beholden to them. They wanted the power… And Essenta’s marriage was key.
They had a plan to break the princess. But they had no idea, in Heaven or in Hell, how badly it would blow up in their faces. Essenta was a princess. They knew she wasn’t ordinary, but she was still just a princess. They didn’t know how unordinary she truly was. They underestimated what kind of mare she was… the things she was ready and able, or at least willing to do.
The cunning, the desire to succeed, and her sheer willpower, the very things King Dale hated most in her, were the very things he had the least chance against. But in his arrogance, he thought he’d best her. Looking back, much later, he would contemplate blowing his own brains out for the stupidity of his half-baked idea. Had they thought about it realistically for a few moments, they probably would have discarded the idea and just sent her somewhere with a small mountain of gold. The council wasn’t afraid of King Dale, especially, but they were just as arrogant.
Of course, Essenta had no idea what was going through her father’s head, so she just stood on pins and needles, waiting for him to speak.
The king leaned forward once again and Essenta gulped. No matter what he said, she had to maintain, no matter how awful…
“Princess Essenta… I have need of you. Far away from here are the Great Southern Jungles. You’ve no doubt heard of the Dragon Lance? You will retrieve it for me.”
It took everything Essenta had to not exclaim at this. This was his plan? Even the court was confused, but they daren’t say anything.
She wasn’t much of an actress, but in her father’s arrogance, he could be tricked. She put on her best shocked expression and hammed it up just enough.
“Father! You must be joking! The lance is a myth! And I’ve never even left the valley!”
“Nonsense… you say you wish to travel. And the lance is no myth… I saw it… in battle. It resides in the Salvatrix Temple. It’s come to my attention a plague has wiped out the Salvatrix Kingdom. This is your chance. Do this for me, and you will have redeemed yourself in my eyes.”
She stood there, her knees knocking, “…I will do as you say, Father… my king. Tell me what I am to do.”
Essenta walked back to her room some time later. She was shaken up from her earlier worry, and almost as shaken up she was tasked with such a thing as she had just been. It was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard… recently. And she knew some ponies that ate funny mushrooms and/or shat down chimneys.
The whole thing sounded farcical. She was to get together a crew, of her choosing, that was willing to accompany her, find her way to the jungles in the far south, and retrieve something that probably didn’t exist from a nest of death and disease.
Undoubtedly, her father had no concern about her or any of his subjects dying of plague. He didn’t expect them to make it. She knew what he believed: his foolish daughter would turn around at the first sign of trouble, come home, and beg, kissing his hooves and sobbing, for his forgiveness, and of her willingness to be a good little princess. Maybe he expected her to beg before day’s end.
But she would try. Oh! would she try. She got carried away with her anger a moment. She’d show that asshole that called himself her father just what she could do. Was she in over her head? Sure. Was she letting her own arrogance get the better of her? Certainly. Did she have any idea what she was going to do? No dice.
But she didn’t care. She knew all this, and she still didn’t give a single fuck. Even if this was a fool’s errand, she was going to see what she could do. She might as well. This would be her first, last, and only chance, for the rest of her life, at a little freedom. True freedom! Sweet, sweet freedom…
Her resolve hardened. Her father was going to regret this. She’d go out there, and if she had her way, she’d turn the world upside down! And there were only two ponies she could think of that might be crazy enough to go with her… Okay… neither was crazy and they would say she was crazy, but they were her best friends.
Dechaa spat out her sip of wine, “Sen! What in the world are you saying?! You want me to what?”
Essenta took a hit off her ale, “I want you to come with me on this stupid expedition my father has seen fit to send me on.”
They were sitting outside Essenta’s favorite pub. Essenta still wore one of her nicer gowns, lounging on a bench in a manner most unbefitting of a princess. Her headpiece was tucked into her sash. It drew some attention, but it wasn't the most unusual thing her townsponies had seen of her.
Essenta stared into the slop in her mug, swirling it about. One thing she realized from a month without num-nums, was her tolerance had fallen off a cliff, a rock tied to its neck with a nice, heavy chain. She was buzzing, and she wasn’t even a third of the way done with her first mug… Maybe it should be her only mug… she had to get things rolling on the trip. She knew her father was stupid and so was his suck-ass council, but even they had to have begun to realize the folly in this.
Essenta continued, “I want you and Zyra to come with me. I… think we’d have a chance then.”
Dechaa was blanching, “Don’t say ‘we’ like we’re already on the highway! This is… insane! You realize your father is expecting you to turn around before the first day is even over, don’t you?”
Essenta grumbled at her, “You’re cunting well right, old friend-”
“Sen! You know how much I hate that word… it’s so… nasty. Why even say it?!”
“It gives strength when ‘fuck’ loses its meaning…”
Dechaa blathered, “…What?!”
Essenta chugged the rest of her mug, and stood up unsteadily, “C’mon. We have to get a move on.”
The princess began to paddle away. Dechaa hurriedly left a few coins for their drinks, leaving most of her goblet of wine abandoned, and chased after her friend.
“Sen, stop! You have no idea what it’s like out there! I have no idea what it’s like! Neither of us have ever been outside the valley. There are murderers… and pirates… and... and rapists!”
“Those occur everywhere, Miss Beiran. I’m not so concerned if you and Zyra are with me. I can whup just about anypony any-”
Dechaa teleported a few feet, to get Essenta’s attention, eye-to-eye, “Sen! Just because you can outfight our soldiers doesn’t mean you’re up for everything out there!”
Essenta brushed her aside, and ambled along, “I know that’s a possibility. I’m just trying to look for the silver lining here.”
“What silver lining?! Sen… your father is sending you out there… to possibly die! It’s not just a matter of you turning around when you can’t sleep on a nice feather bed! He knows what’s out there, and he knows you might not come back.”
With great conviction, and actually meaning it, “I’d rather die out there than play princess for the king.”
Dechaa stopped cold, “…You can’t mean that!”
“Oh, but I do… If you don’t want to come, I won’t say anything otherwise. And it won’t stop us from being friends. That’s something not even death will break.”
That took the clout out of Dechaa’s argument. She knew Essenta meant it. But instead of leaving Essenta or begging the king to reconsider, she followed her friend, trying to reason with her.
After a short walk, the princess and Dechaa made their way to the home of the local magic guild. Immediately recognizable by her short, sandy mane and sea-foam coat, they saw their unicorn friend Zyra Argon beating a few rugs out front.
Seeing her friends approach, she called out, “Well, well, well… My beloved Captain has shaken off her bonds and is once again free to piss off her daddy.”
Zyra came up and tightly embraced Essenta, who gladly gave in return. Pulling back, Essenta examined her friend. Zyra was a sight for sore eyes, as Dechaa had been. Essenta and Dechaa had known Zyra for about nine years. She was 17, as they were, but a month or two younger than the princess. She wasn’t exactly sure how old she was. She was a war orphan from the west. Somepony saw her affinity for magic, and she was taken in by the Greendale Magic Guild. They’d played with all the other foals in town when they were young. Zyra called Essenta “Captain” because when they played pirates, Essenta would beat up all the colts and take the title for herself. It was a childhood nickname.
Unlike Essenta and Dechaa, Zyra wasn’t a knockout, at least to most ponies. She was fit, but rather plain, though not unattractive. She got through life by her wits… and sense of humor. While Essenta and Dechaa had brains, neither was clever in the ways Zyra was. While Dechaa was particularly skilled in healing magic and using magic to aid her physical abilities, Zyra had the gift of tongues. Through the aid of magic, and her own intelligence, she spoke 20 languages. While not much of a fighter, she also specialized in fire magic; she was the most powerful fire elemental for about 500 miles.
With her two friends, it was little wonder Essenta had the general lack of concern she may have felt otherwise… or if she was stone sober. The quart of ale was making its presence known in her mind.
Zyra motioned her friends to sit down, “So, what did the great King Dale want with his firstborn child? Dare I ask? Is he selling you to the salt mines?”
If Zyra wasn’t so funny, and if she wasn’t Essenta’s dear friend, the princess might have throttled her on a few occasions in their time together, “I have to talk fast. Father should be learning the error of his ways soon…”
She explained to the little mage just what horseshit the king and his council had come up with. Zyra regarded her with skeptical amusement.
“That’s stupid,” Zyra chuckled.
“I know!” the princess spake in her slight alcohol flush. “We need to hurry. We need to get out of town this afternoon.”
Zyra rubbed her hooves together, “I hear you, Captain. What do we need?”
Dechaa started to panic a little, “What?!! Zyra, you can’t be serious!”
Zyra called up to a window, “Master Amelbert!”
An old stallion poked his head out, “Zyra? Oh, Princess! Good to see you.”
Essenta beamed up at him, “Likewise, Master!”
“You’ve heard about this “fool’s errand” the king has given Essenta, haven’t you?” Zyra asked him. “I’m going with her.”
He smiled, “Well, you’d best get a move on. Come pack your saddlebags. Princess! I can spare three days’ worth of food for the three of you. Think that’ll be enough? I’ll even throw in a few bottles of that grain alcohol you seem to be able to stomach.”
Essenta cheered, “That’ll be great. Thanks.”
She turned to Dechaa and then Master Amelbert, “Dechaa, get your bags and meet me at my workshop in 10 minutes. We’ll be back here in 15 minutes!”
Essenta galloped away, leaving Dechaa looking confused and scared, calling after her.
Essenta tore through her room, hastily packing her saddlebags. Casting aside her frilly gown and headpiece, she put on a simple tunic and cloak. She knew how to travel and had nothing frivolous. Admittedly, she had more gold than they would need, but they wouldn’t be hard up for money. Gathering up her cloak, she ran out of her room.
Luckily, she found both Calleha and Abe in Abe’s room. Calleha had been crying over what happened earlier in the day. Essenta wished them both love and a hasty goodbye, before tearing out of the room. She didn't even wait for them to respond, leaving them flummoxed. Stopping by the upstairs kitchen, she pilfered a bag of fruit and biscuits, along with a bottle of rum, before the surprised chef could even ask her what she was up to.
There were other ponies she would've loved to bid farewell to... Old Rosy, Captain Lugaid, a few friends in town... But she resolved to run away as fast as possible as she sprinted down the hall. Barely slowing down, she leapt out a low window, surprising a few guards as she galloped past.
“Sorry, fellas! Well, I’ll see you again sometime, I hope!” she called back as she ran.
They were just confused… too confused to do anything. Essenta was right to hurry, for a moment later, the guards were alerted to look for her.
Essenta made it to her workshop. It was dusty from being unattended for the last month. She’d miss her sets of tools, but only grabbed what she needed. Dechaa showed up a minute later, fretting. She had on a cloak and saddlebags.
“Sen… What are we doing?”
Essenta tossed her a bag she’d been filling up, “Catch.”
Dechaa caught it, with magic, and went on fretting, “We’re not really going?!”
Essenta had finished up two more big bags, and grabbed a roll of tools, which she lashed to her saddlebags. Finally, she grabbed a longer roll. Taking a moment to appreciate its weight, she lashed that to her saddlebags as well. Hefting everything, she called to Dechaa.
“We have to go, now!”
Dechaa, for some reason unknown to her, followed her as Essenta ducked through alleyways and in shadows. Within minutes they were at the magic guild. Zyra was waiting outside. She had her saddlebags, her magic staff, and a bag of what was hopefully food. She had on the oddest grin, somewhere between resignation and high glee, if that makes any sense.
“Not a moment too soon, Cap. Things are starting to heat up back there.”
Essenta listened. She couldn’t see, but she could hear it once it started.
Ding, ding, ding! Ding, ding, ding! …
It was the bell signal for… an escaped convict! She could hear yelling, obviously about and in pursuit of her.
Essenta looked back, sobered by the sound. Her father hadn’t had any intention of letting her go… or he changed his mind. Whatever… They had to go. Essenta barely stopped and ran to the edge of town, her friends hot on her heels.
Zyra laughed heartily, but not too loud. They had to escape quietly if they could.
Dechaa was almost in tears. What had she gotten herself into?!
Essenta… wasn’t sure how she felt. It was a mixed feeling. She shook her head. She’d have time to sort it out later. For now, they had to run. They had to get away.
The three mares galloped east, the sunset now at their backs, towards adventure none of them had ever dreamed of.
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Hoping to learn more of Essenta and her fellow allies. Go out and prove how wrong your father is about you. Good story, it's certainly different.
what did you do you got like 10 down votes in 1 day?
9003635
I put an appendix in as a chapter. It wasn't appreciated, so I moved it to a blog.
Dragon Lance. Dragonlance. Tell me, Am i right about the connection I'm seeing here?
9245100
No connection. I pretty much threw a dart at a board on that one.