Jennifer McKeithen

She ran. Deeper, deeper into the mysterious Broceliande forest she went. Panic surged through her veins, holding her fatigue at bay. She had lost track of how long she had kept up this pace.

   Massive tree branches choked out the waning sunlight, casting eerie shadows across the uneven ground. Very soon, complete darkness would fall over the forest.

   And, her pursuers were gaining.

  Where exactly the princess was going, she hadn’t an inkling. She knew only that she must flee. She also knew that if she stopped for but an instant, the warriors trailing behind would surely catch her.

   Her bare arms shivered in the misty twilight air. Ferocious boars and wolves were known to roam the forest Broceliande. If she happened upon one of these beasts, she would find herself defenseless, as she had not had the time to procure any sort of weapon when she bolted into the wood. But was being maimed by a wild animal worse than the fate which drove her to this course of action in the first place?

   The world as she knew it was changing. A dark threat from the east loomed on the horizon. Ships of an unknown people raided coastal towns throughout the known lands at random, leaving utter destruction in their wake. The most experienced of generals couldn’t predict where this nameless enemy would strike next. Rome and Carthage were so moved that they had put aside their bitterness toward each other in order to fortify against this menace. Rumor had it that even the all-powerful Atlantis felt vulnerable.

   Pushing aside those thoughts, she pressed on, racing over the boulders and entanglements of roots in her path. Low-lying branches reached out, snatching at her hair, tearing into her linen gown and any exposed skin. Undaunted, she continued.

   In light of this uncertainty, her own people, the Breizhian Gauls of Ker-Ys, could no longer continue in their tradition of self-sufficiency and isolation. Rome, their nearest neighbor, held more values in common with the Breizhians than any other known people—except one. But joining with the Euskaldunak was quite impossible. Her grandfather, Alwyn Meur, High King of the Breizhians, had long ago sworn a blood feud against them. That her great-grandmother was herself of the Euskaldunak was of no consequence.

   Ahead she saw a brook, but she already knew how she would cross. The autumn rains had held off of late, and the low waterline exposed many boulders. Skipping across would prove a simple matter. And she felt certain the water couldn’t rise higher than her waist at most.

   Since alliance with the Euskaldunak was out, it was therefore only logical that her brothers would choose to ally with Rome. In order to cement this alliance, they arranged a marriage for her to Valens Petronius, a young, though influential Roman senator. Marrying him was the best thing she could ever hope to accomplish for her people.

   High above the brook’s ravine existed a plateau, where an ancient archway had endured the ravages of time. If she raised her head, she could see its cornerstone just above the tree line. This was where the first exiles of Atlantis had crowned their rulers. Her people no longer used the place, but she had often played there as a child—once with Petronius, oddly enough.

   And yet, the princess couldn’t bring herself to bind herself to him. From an early age, she knew she would marry for love. She would choose her future husband. Her brothers disagreed. So there she found herself, running through the cold, enchanted forest at dusk.

   She reached the first boulder. Upon landing, her foot slid over the slippery moss growing on the rocks. Icy water engulfed her body. She found her feet, but it was too late. The warriors had already surrounded her.

   Cahan, her younger brother, scolded her first. “What did you hope to accomplish by running away?” he uttered between breaths. His disappointment in her behavior soon turned to sympathy, though it was clear his resolve would not waver.

   “I don’t know,” she admitted. Tears stung her eyes. Her wet clothes clung to her body, and she began to shiver.

   “We made an agreement,” said her older brother Tierney, sternly. “We will not go back on our word.”

   A lump formed in her throat. “How could you do this to me? You’re just going to sell me off to the highest bidder, like I’m some kind of slave instead of your sister?”

   Tierney’s patience wore thin. “You’ve known all your life that your marriage would be arranged. I stand in the place of our father. You will obey me.”

   “I will marry the man I choose,” she declared, clenching her fists in an effort to stop trembling.

   A calm, deep voice interrupted the argument. “Excuse me.” Valens Petronius approached the water’s edge.

   The princess felt her cheeks flush in spite of the cold. She had not expected him to join in the chase.

   On the surface, there was nothing inherently wrong with Petronius. He was near her age, tall and handsome, and by all accounts an honorable and capable leader. They had met ten years previously. The young boy had saved her life at risk to his own when he pulled her out of a rushing stream. She had thrown her arms around his neck in gratitude, and he in turn vowed he would marry her when they grew up.

   As the years passed, however, she forgot his avowal. He, obviously, had not. The irony of the situation humiliated her to no end.

   “There is no honor in forcing a woman to marry against her will,” said the Roman. “I wasn’t aware she was ignorant of the negotiations. I will have her willingly, or not at all.”

   “The treaty has already been signed,” said Tierney, “It cannot be broken.”

   “But I don’t love him!” She loathed having to reject Petronius in such a cruel manner. Yet after what he had done for her so long ago, she decided it was far better to do so than to give him false hope.

   “You were born to privilege,” Cahan reminded her, “You don’t have the luxury of waiting to fall in love.” His tone softened. “You know I want your happiness. That’s why we’ve shown you patience up to this point. But you’ve rejected too many of your suitors. It’s time to live up to your responsibilities.”

   The tears that had formed in her eyes finally spilled down her cheeks. “I’m only sixteen.”

   Petronius nodded thoughtfully. “Very well.”

   All gasped in astonishment. Was he seriously considering the dissolution of the treaty, with the enemy pillaging all around them? It was beyond foolhardiness.

   The Roman obtained a sword from one of his guards and stepped into the water. “I propose a choice to you.” He gave her the hilt of the sword and held the blade to his neck. “My life is yours. Kill me, and you will not have to marry against your will. Felix,” he addressed his aide. “Prepare a statement: Rome will ally with Ker-Ys, regardless of her actions.”

   “But Senator-”

   “Do it!” he ordered.

   Felix reluctantly complied.

   Petronius turned back to the princess. His tone softened, and he fell to one knee. “Or you can spare my life, and marry me. Either way, my lady, your fate is in your own hands. You have the choice.”

  “This is madness! A treaty without blood ties will surely fail!”

   Ignoring Tierney’s outburst, Petronius calmly awaited her answer.

   She stared back at him in utter shock. Her heart pounded harder than it had during her sprint through the forest. Freedom was within her grasp, if she was audacious enough to seize it. “Why are you doing this?”

   Petronius smiled thinly. “You are probably not going to believe me, but I meant every word I said to you when I was a boy. Can you imagine my elation when your brothers offered me the chance to marry the girl I’ve always loved?”

   She searched his face. Could his claim be true? His handsome brown eyes seemed sincere enough. Desire was there, no question. But, there was something else. Was it truly the love he claimed it was?

   For the first time, she actually considered what it would mean to marry him. Her face felt hot again, and instead of pounding, her heart began to flutter wildly. In appearance at least, he was everything she could have wanted in a husband: intelligent, dignified, and definitely good-looking. He was also much closer to her age than any of her previous suitors.

   “You trusted me when we were children,” he continued. “Trust me now. I promise to do everything in my power to win your heart.”

   Yet still, she harbored doubts about the veracity of his words. Offering his life was a bold gesture, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he believed there was any real danger of her taking it.

   She had to make sure. Pressing the blade to his neck, she made a shallow incision. Though the cut wasn’t deep enough to harm him, it drew a considerable amount of blood. The others gasped in horror. Petronius did not so much as flinch, but held her gaze as the creek babbled around his form.

   She lowered the sword. “You’re a wise and valorous man, Valens Petronius.”

   “We Romans are a valorous people,” he shrugged, apparently unconcerned by the trickles of blood staining his white tunic. “Besides, I’m a senator. I have to be.” He did not rise. He still awaited her answer.

   She looked away. His courage moved her. She still didn’t love him, but to be the wife of a man as lionhearted as he... Was it possible she could learn to love him? None of her other suitors would have even thought of that scheme, much less gamble their lives on the outcome. Petronius must have wanted her very badly to risk it.

   Yes, she decided, he deserved a chance. “I will accept you.”

   Petronius rose at last, and gently kissed her cheek.

   Cahan rushed forward and embraced them both. “You’re certainly a fitting husband for my sister, Petronius!” he exclaimed. “Well done! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint us.”

   Tierney remained skeptical, crossing his arms in reserved judgment, though the outcome pleased him.

   Petronius removed his outer tunic, and wrapped it around her as a ward against the chilly air. They climbed up the bank out of the stream bed. All the while, his eyes never left hers. “You won’t regret this,” he whispered, taking her hand. With the other hand, he pressed a rag to his neck.

   She returned a weak smile, and hoped she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.