Chapter 1: Beginning

Sounds of laughter. Sounds of screaming. Sparks from a wood fire out of sight. It was dark. I sat up, bewildered. This wasn’t my bedroom. A horse neighed. A horse?

I looked down at two small wrists and hands, bound by heavy rope. Delicate, feminine hands, long nails. Except for the fourth finger on the left hand, nail’s broken there. I was wearing a deep blue, heavy dress. It had to be a dream. It didn’t feel like a dream. But this wasn’t my body! I’m a guy, I don’t wear dresses. Or indulge in bondage fantasies. Often.

Campfire smoke drifted over, crackling as more sparks flew up into the night. Some distance away, a silhouette by the fire rose, arched his head back as he finished off a mug. He set that down, laughed, and his shadow shifted toward me and slowly got bigger. Outlined by the flames, I couldn’t see his features, but his gait was heavy, with a lumbering, side to side motion.

Pushing my bound feet against the ground, I slid backward until I hit a large tree.

“That’s right, missy, nowhere to run.” He barked out a laugh. “Let’s see what royalty looks like up close!” Dirt caked his face and hands, his clothing was heavy and worn. Faded browns on weathered leather. Like someone out of a postapocalyptic movie. A black eye and a long bruise under it.

I couldn’t crawl away, not bound like this. To my right, some distance away, more figures tied to stakes, twitching and moaning. A dozen feet to my left, a lone prisoner locked in thick handcuffs, rope tight around his mouth as a gag, cutting into his cheeks. He gave me a sad look and shook his head, as if apologizing.

Yeah. I was ready for this dream to end. Going to have to hit up a therapist after this one.

But it didn’t end, and he knelt down in front of me. Acrid smells of sweat, blood and piss assaulted my nose. He pulled out a long, thin dagger.

“What’s a matter, Princess? You don’t like me?” He grabbed the rope around my ankles, sliding me down the tree trunk until I was on my back, then sliced through it, freeing my legs. “You’ll spread ‘em all the same.” He sheathed the long knife, started undoing the rope around his pants.

Ok, ok, ok, I thought, my heart pounding, this wasn’t happening. Not a chance! For one thing, I wasn’t a damned princess! I reached around on the ground with my bound hands, looking for something, anything.

Having found it, I sat up.

“Want a closer look, eh?” Standing in front of me, his pants falling down, the stench worsened, and he flashed me a broken toothed smile. I smiled back and with both hands smashed a heavy stone into his balls as hard as I could.

“Aaah!” he screamed, doubling over.

I slammed the stone into his temple. He fell sideways, landing hard, body twitching slightly. I stared in disbelief for too many moments, dropped the rock, grabbed his long knife, planted the tip into the ground and ran the ropes binding my wrists along the blade until they came apart.

The other man was straining to get my attention. Hell, I figured if he was tied up, he was on my side. I cut through his gag, then the rope tying him to the ground. The knife couldn’t do anything against the metal around his wrists, though.

“Princess! I let you down, I’m so sorry.”

“Never mind that. What the hell is going on?”

He stared at me in disbelief. “We . . . we need to get out of here. Quickly! If that’s possible.”

“Ok, sure. I’ll check that guy for keys.”

“Keys?”

“For your handcuffs. We’ve got to get those off you.”

He paused again. “You mean these irons?” He held them up for me to see. I couldn’t make out much, we were too far from the fire, but they were shaped like a D. A half ring with a bar across.

“Yeah.”

“They don’t use keys.”

“Huh? How’s that work?”

He shook his head and spoke in a fierce whisper, “You know how these work!” Then looked over to the campfire where the would-be rapist’s friends were still eating, drinking, and laughing, “Let’s hurry away from here, Your Highness. We must leave!” He then took off in the direction opposite the fire.

I followed. What else could I do? This wasn’t . . . normal. The clothing they wore made them look like larpists. Only dirty, disheveled, and aggressive. I was still in too much shock to process much beyond ‘hey, this isn’t my body. I’m taller.’ A dress. Still blue. Why was I wearing a dress? What the hell was going on?

The grass was muddy and beaten. I stumbled more than once catching up to him. This body, these clothes, I was having troubles making them work. “Hey! Hey, where are we going?”

“Keep your voice down! We’re getting as far from that encampment as possible.”

“Why are you in handcuffs?” I shook my head in the dark, “I mean irons. Why are you in irons?”

He sounded bewildered, like I’d asked him what comes after ‘b’ in the alphabet, “Because I’m a wizard.”

“What, like in the Klan?” That took me by surprise. I mean, he was black. Not too many black Klansmen around.

“Clan? We call it a conclave.” He stopped, whispering fiercely, “Your Highness, you can ask me all the questions you want, that is your royal prerogative, but I beg you to hold off until we’re away from this place!”

“Ok, yeah, I can do that.” I tried to get a better look at his face, but it was nighttime, and I couldn’t see much. Then he took off quickly. I had to pull up my skirts to catch up, but this damn dress kept my stride small and tried to tangle around my ankles.

Rushing along, my legs caught on a log and I tripped, falling face first into the mud. My legs were propped up on it. Planting my hands in the soft ground, I pushed myself to a sitting position on the log, wiping the mud off my face. Only it wasn’t a log, but a body. “Holy!” I jumped away. “Holy shit.”

He dropped to his knees near me, “Are you hurt?”

“No. Just . . . gross.” I wiped off mud from my face. It stank.

He moved over to the body, started moving his hands over it.

I asked, “What are you doing?”

“If the scroungers haven’t been to this one yet, maybe he’s got a sword or some coin. And we’ve got to get you out of that royal dress. Preferably leggings.” He looked at me for a long time, then added, “You’re young enough that you might be able to pass for a boy.”

I wanted to shout at him, I am a boy! but didn’t say anything out of bewilderment. Stealing from corpses was unimaginable. It sickened me. Falling on them, more so. I’d never even seen one until today. But we had nothing. I didn’t even know who ‘we’ were. And, anyways, not a boy any longer and long graduated from college! I wanted to scream at the world, this was all so wrong.

My mind was jumbled trying to make sense of everything. A rustling off in the dark caught my attention and my gaze. After a while, I could make out a figure walking a short distance, then crouching. Beyond that person, more people doing the same.

“You see?” he spat out, “Scroungers. Checking the dead for anything of value. Worthless trash. Ah, but they are helpful to us now. Providing welcome cover.”

“How long do you think until they start searching for us?”

“How long does rape take? That’ll be when his friends expect him back.”

“Well, damn, I don’t know. You find anything?”

“They’re probably looking for us already. And, yes, here. A leather belt and sheath for your dirk.”

“Dirk?”

“The thin dagger you stole from that guard. This sword is too big for you, I’ll take it. And his clothing won’t fit you.” He passed me the belt.

“That’s repulsive.” But I took it. It was unlike what I was used to, all rough and thick. I slid the thin blade of the dirk into its holder, then tightened it around my waist.

“Just as well. Come,” he looked around, “let’s not linger.”

I pulled the dress up through the belt, giving my legs more room and walked behind him this time. I figured that would prevent me from stepping on anymore corpses. And if anyone looked at us from behind, we’d look like one person. Or less like two. Hopefully.

We passed many more bodies in the mud. I now realized why the ground was so wrecked. There’d been a battle. Like a medieval battle. Lots of stomping around, lots of killing. Probably the stench was from the blood spilled and all those other things I didn’t want to think about that also spilled out of bodies. And I’d fallen into the filth! Gotten it all over my face. It was all I could do to keep from throwing up. Good thing it was nighttime.

“There’s a road not much further up. Once we get on that, the going will be easier, Your Highness.”

“You should really stop calling me that.” I mean, I wasn’t a princess, but that’s not what I was thinking. He’d blow our story with that kind of talk.

“Yes, fair point. Oh!” He sounded excited, despite providing me the news, “What luck! A young man about your height.”

“Good god, ok. I, uh, yeah, how lucky for us.” He was already stripping the body – something I was glad for not doing, it was a gruesome sight – and passed me the dead boy’s smaller sword. It was thinner, shorter, and lighter than what the other soldier had been carrying. Much good it did this boy.

“There you go, these will provide excellent cover.”

I unbelted, then lifted off the dress with some difficulty. It took so long, he eventually yanked it off my head. I had, I don’t know the word for it, a kind of light dress under it all, like a heavy slip, but no underwear or bra. Leggings, too. I slipped the smaller pants over these. Like the rapist’s pants, these had a drawstring instead of a belt. Tied that up, then put on his bloody leather shirt or vest, I wasn’t sure. It had sleeves but was really thick. Maybe it was a jacket. “Uh, the shirt has blood on it.”

He’d turned around, out of politeness I guess. “Can’t be helped, I’m afraid. Oh, and don’t take the armor or anything with an insignia or we’ll be mistaken as deserters or thieves.”

Insignia? There was a badge of some sort on the leather armor, but I couldn’t make it out. But, sure, I didn’t want to wear this guy’s bloody armor. It was bad enough that his clothes smelled of sewage and blood and death. Trapping all that yuck under armor seemed a bad idea. And, well, it was already proven to be less than protective of life.

I was starting to feel like I’d fallen into some kind of ultra-realistic video game. Escape the military camp, gear up, then off to farm mobs and level up. Not cool! Where’s the save and exit button? None of this made any sense. What was I doing before waking up here? Couldn’t remember. Alcohol was probably involved. And drugs. Had to be drugs to trip this badly.

“Hey, we aren’t larping by chance, are we?”

“Larping?” He turned to look at me, clearly not understanding the word.

“Never mind.”

“A town lies ahead, we’ll make our way there. It’s called Flatham. Unimaginative name, if you ask me, but that’s what it’s called. It’s the wrong direction, but we cannot return to the palace. Princess,” he hesitated, “we must bring you to your cousin’s castle.”

“Right, makes sense.”

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t protest?”

“Let’s just keep moving. Any minute now they’re going to raise the alarm. God, I hope they don’t have dogs. And don’t call me princess anymore!”

“Yes, Your Hi-” he paused, shook his head, then began walking. I quickly followed. “What name shall we call you?”

I blurted out the first royal name that popped into my head, “Richard. Call me Richard from now on. That sounds kingly.”

“Richard? I’ve never heard that name before.”

“Uh, you choose then,” I said, changing my mind, “Something more peasant-like. Not royal sounding at all.”

“Tread. We’ll call you Tread.”

“Sounds great.” Because I felt like I’d been trodden on. Who knows? Maybe that’s why it was a peasant name. “And when I’m in the guise of a girl?”

“It works for both.”

“You’re a very clever wizard.”

I couldn’t see well in the darkness, but I felt the glare.

We walked on for a bit and eventually hit the road he’d mentioned. Trees were barely visible, looming alongside, dark gaps between them. Thicker on the other side, gloomy. I wanted to bolt into that darkness, hide unseen and unseeing, until our captors gave up and the army moved on.

Our footsteps crunching against gravel seemed so loud. I stumbled against something but caught myself quickly. It didn’t seem wise, staying on the road. But I had no idea where we were going and had to trust the person I was following.

I just realized, I didn’t know his name. Other than ‘wizard,’ which, I have to admit, seemed pretty silly. If I wasn’t wearing the clothing of a corpse, running from an army of rapists and in the body of a girl, I’d laugh. That’s when it started to drizzle. No idea why, but I rolled my eyes heavenward and looked up. Why drizzle, just make it pour!

Yet, I couldn’t really ask him his name without letting him know I wasn’t his princess. He might not be so inclined to get me away from that army. The one thing I knew was that I had to get away from that army.

“Wizard,” I ventured, “what happened? I mean, where’s the king? What about our army. I take it we lost . . . the, uh, battle?” I felt stupid, but I needed these answers.

He stopped, turned to me. “You watched your father die. He defended you until the end. You don’t remember?”

Grasping at straws, but I needed something. “Was I hit on the head?”

“Ah, yes. Most savagely. Perhaps that accounts for the memory loss.” He tilted his head, “quite frankly, I’m somewhat amazed that you’re walking. Are you feeling alright? No dizziness or nausea?”

“Was our army in the field? And this cousin of mine, he’s still at our castle? With reinforcements?”

He bent low enough to look into my eyes. “Princess, just how much do you remember?”

It was worth a chance, I had to take it. “I . . . find myself, uh, unable to remember even your name.”

He straightened. “I see.” It was dark, but there seemed to be just the barest hint of a smile. He continued, “It seems the enemy is after you. By the way it attacked us. It – the attack – was very particular, focused on you. Do you have any inkling why that would be the case?”

I needed more details! “Why do you say that? What exactly happened?”

Abruptly, he stood up, cupping his ears in the direction we came. “Do you hear that?”

I froze. Listened. In the distance, I could just make out dogs baying.

“We can’t stay on this road much longer. We’ll have to head for the river.”

“Won’t the rain help?”

“This?” He held his palms up and little rain gathered. “Not in the slightest. Those are Ketzillian hounds, Your Highness. Savage, relentless beasts.”

“At least we switched the dress – my dress – for these, uh, clothes.”

“That may slow them a little. Come!”

We hurried along the road for a time and then veered off into the woods along a small path, which eventually led to a stream, not half the size of a one lane road.

“This is the river?” I asked with some amount of annoyance.

“Naught but a tributary, Your Highness.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“No one is around.”

The hounds sounded far off. It didn’t sound like they were closing the distance. “How much time do you think we have till the dogs find us?”

“Not long. They probably have a good guess which way we went. We didn’t have much choice in direction back there. We must make haste.”

“God damnit! Ok, uh, first we run up this creek along this side. Then we switchback and run down it, in the water.”

He turned to stare at me again, bewilderment in his eyes, finally saying, “A good plan, but the river isn’t far. They must know we’re heading for it. Let’s hurry on.”

Hurry on in the dark. Ok. We pushed our way through the trees. I was both thankful for the lack of groundcover and worried about it. The dogs would have little trouble.

We shortly hit upon a path and followed it as fast as we dared. It was harder for the wizard, his hands cuffed together. I took hold of his left arm to help him along, steady his pace.

I needed to get more information out of him regarding the battle. What he told me didn’t make sense. Why would a king bring a young princess to repulse an enemy? This wasn’t some equal rights medieval battle game, and he clearly wasn’t training me to be a fighter. Not in that dress I’d been wearing.

I’d been wearing. I. This wasn’t me, but everything was seamless. The body starting to feel like it was mine. Little legs rushing along uneven ground, stumbling. Holding this guy, steadying him along, my slender fingers barely able to wrap around his arm, offering little support. Yet, I never put that dress on. Either someone else had and I was now in her body, or this game was far beyond what I’d played before.

If it was real, was she in my body?

Had to concentrate on the now, in any case. I ran the scenarios that would have a king’s army attacked with a princess in it. Castle siege and traveling were all I could think of. Perhaps the king was taking his daughter somewhere, maybe going home, then suddenly attacked. If traveling, then why wouldn’t we head back to our castle, why go to the cousin’s? Too far maybe. If the bad guys had us for a while, maybe we were closer to the cousin’s castle. That didn’t seem to hold water as you’d think the attackers would head to their own castle.

Likely a siege then. In that case, our military has been defeated, our castle fallen, and we were screwed. Running from an entire army it is then! What a great game. An angry, heated email to the game designer was in order. I was hoping and hoping that this was a game.

If it wasn’t, and that princess swapped bodies with me, she likely did it to escape this hellhole. Good for her, not fun for me. Though, if true, it meant I could figure out what she did and swap back. There was hope, then.

So, in the game scenario, I disconnect and go back to my life, eventually. The real-life scenario involves a little more work, like figuring out actual magic. Ugh. It seemed that either left me with only one choice. Stay alive, follow the script, turn it to my advantage. When I get into a safe place, it’ll be time to explore my options. Maybe the wizard could help. I’d ask later. Now, we had to get out of here.

The path dipped a bit, then went back up, then a sudden right-hand bend and dropped into a small valley. The perfect place to hide if dogs weren’t on your scent and someone else hadn’t gotten there first. A campfire burned below us, in our path, and men with swords at their knees sat around it. Five men. No, four men and a boy. Wearing the thick and stiff leather clothing I’d stolen from the corpse. Also lacking the outer mail.

They rose at our sounds, hefting their weapons. “Name yourselves!” said one of them, stepping forward menacingly. An open cut ran down his face, the blood dried but still visible on his neck and clothes.