1 Turbulent night

As the early morning glow of sunrise started to filter into the late spring skies over the Dunloe woods, the sounds growing birdsong and rustling of tree by the wind was broken by shouting, thundering horse hooves and the clattering of a carriage wheels. On a woodland path, a carriage raced at top speed. It's driver urging the tired horses onwards into the rising sun. In his haste he was unable to avoid the inevitable pits in the road that on occasion shook the carriage violently from side to side.

The skilled driver controlled the carriage so that it steadied again and continued to urge the horses onwards. One of the dozen or so side riders called to check everything was under control. Once confirmed urged the group onwards.

Inside the carriage, a woman woke with a groan. Her head hurt unbearably. The world seemed much too mobile. Her body uncontrollably jostled about by the movements of the carriage on top of the world spinning violently as she opened her eyes briefly.

He head jerked forward and back again causing and intense spike of pain to shoot through her skull. Instinctively she attempted to move her hands to cradle her head but was unable to do so. Through the slowly clearing fog in the mind she realised she was constrained in some fashion. Opening her eye to peek painfully she confirmed that her upper torso and and arms where bound crudely in rope.

A second bleary eyed peek showed her that in addition to imprisoning her these rope also appeared to tether her to the coach in some way. A small blessing that her captures thought to save her being thrown about during the bumpy ride.

Another jolt sent shooting pain through her head again. Gritting her teeth through the pain she tried to focus on her situation. While she couldn't move her arms freely and it appeared her wrists were also tied, she was able to lift her hands up from the elbows. Gingerly she lowered her head slowly so that her fingertip could touch a particularly painful area of her forehead. It felt sticky. Lifting her head and lowering her hands she opened her eyes to confirm that her fingertips were stained with blood.

Her mind slowly came clearer. Focusing on her body she did not seem to be seriously hurt anywhere else but her ankles were also bound together and loosely teetered to something below her view. Moving her feet to experiment how much mobility she was capable of her toes pressed against something. After several prods the something shifted and groaned.

The woman gasped retracting her feet and holding her breathe in fear.

After a moment a male voice spoke in a clearly pained voice. "Not dead yet Princess. Don't worry Princess Tilda we've got you now. Just take it easy till we get back ...OK" The voice trailed off as if it too weak to continue.

Tilda took a few shaking breaths then took up the courage to speak in a shaky whisper. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

The only answer she got was a small groan. The voice mumbled something too quietly to be coherent then stopped.

Huffing gently Tilda accepted the fact she would probably not find out anything from the person laying on the carriage floor for now. She opened her eyes again to take in her current prison and try to find some clue who her captures were. With a brief glance, she was able to see the furnishings of the carriage were clearly luxurious. The craftsmanship clear even in the pale streams of light that made their way through the gaps in the drawn curtains. The cushions and curtains seemed to be a light blue velvet fabric with a gold trim lining. Embroidered on the seat cushions opposite her appeared to be a family crest but her vision not clear enough or the light in the carriage too dim to make out the details just now. Only that it was topped with 3 feathers.

Closing her eyes again, Tilda tried to focus. She was a princess of the Haylian kingdom. From and early age she had been made to memorise the colours and crests of all of the big houses and families. There was a vague memory of blue and gold and a crest with 3 feathers but she just couldn't remember what family it belonged too.

Who would dare to kidnap the Haylian Princess and why? She tried to think back how she got to now. She could remember clearly arguing with her parents over dinner. Once again her father, the king, pressuring her to consider marriage. As she had only just turned 18 she was in no rush to bind herself to one of the many suitors that were only interested in her status. She had gone to bed as usual.

Her head hurt as she tried to remember.

Flashes of fuzzy memories followed. Screaming....men grabbing her from her bed... being manhandled into a carriage.....the smell of smoke....

Tilda sighed. Too much was unclear. The wound on her head continued to throb as the carriage continued on it rapid pace. There was nothing to be done but wait till they reached their destination. Not long after sleep once again consumed her.