The Map of Alaja

I brought the dirty child to my rider, Danyoff, thinking he would know better what to do with it. I had discovered her in the woods, when a quarter of an hour after the battle ended I heard tiny noises of distress coming from beneath a large blueberry bush. Upon following the sounds I came upon her whimpering there, with smears of purple juice covering her round little face.

"What am I supposed to do with her?" Danyoff scowled at the toddler, holding her at arms length. The small girl burst into fresh sobs, which attracted the attention of our commanding officer, Prince Haydn. He strode over with purpose—for when does a Prince ever walk without emanating pomp and purpose, when the watchful eyes of his subjects are upon him?—and looked the child up and down.

"You and your dragon will take her to my Mother the Queen," he decreed with a nod, "She is still grieving the loss of my young sister. Perhaps this child shall be a salve to her wounded heart."

"But Sire," Danyoff dared complain, "Isn't that a job more fitting for a woman? And besides, the Map of Alaja has yet to be found."

The Prince swept his arm around him in a gesture of invitation and said, "Look around you, Danyoff. This is a battleground! Do you see any women present? There are others to search for the map. Do as I command!"

Danyoff grunted his acceptance without grace.

It was indeed a spent battleground, with the bodies of the freshly dead and wounded still littering the ground. Intact soldiers and dragons picked their way through the bloody field, looking for anyone who might not be beyond saving.

"Here," the Prince tossed a half-empty bladder flask to Danyoff, who managed to catch it with a free hand.

"What's this, Highness?" Danyoff asked.

"It's milk...um, for the child."

Danyoff was wise enough not to ask the grown prince why he carried a flask of warm milk on his person.

"Come on, Cregglin," My rider grumbled to me, and we set off with the child.

We went on foot through the woods, which was less agreeable than flying, but these were times of war and we could not give away the position of our Queen. Our pace was painfully slow for me, as my strides were a good four times the length of Danyoff's. I moved in relative slow motion so as not to get too far ahead.

The toddler had miraculously fallen asleep in his arm, probably from shock. Gods only knew how she had ended up mere footsteps away from a raging clash of armies. It must have been horrific to witness. Although, judging by her juice-slathered chin, she had ignored the kerfuffle in deference to stuffing her gob with blueberries.

After a time Danyoff mused, "I do wonder where that poxed map is. I thought the captain who surrendered to us on the battlefield today would surely have it."

A moment of silence before he burst out with, "Curse the Prince!"—This was not the first time I'd heard him utter treason when out of earshot of his brethren soldiers—"Not only I am an excellent swordsman who just claimed two-score-and-four enemy heads on his behalf,"—I knew this to be an extreme exaggeration— "but I am also a skilled sleuth with the keen senses of a fox. I could find the Map of Alaja before the sun goes down! And here I am, on a woman's errand."

I acknowledged his self-important jibber-jabber with an, "Mmmm."

My rider kicked pointlessly at a small rock, perhaps gaining a small sense of satisfaction as he watched it roll away. He continued, "That map is the key to this war. Whichever side finds it is sure to prevail."

We didn't have far to go to reach the Queen. Her tent was set up in a clearing that butted up against a rather tall cliff, which made it nearly impossible to attack from behind or above, even with dragons. A handful of guards—for only a few could be spared from fighting in the battle—stood guard around the camp.

"Aho!" Danyoff called, "It is I, Captain Danyoff, come with a delivery to Queen Gavdeen."

The Queen herself emerged from the tent, flipping the heavy canvas door out of her way with ease. She was a strong, solid woman. Hefty, some might say—although that's not a word that anyone who valued their life would use aloud to describe their sovereign.

She stomped over to Danyoff without ceremony.

"What is it?" She demanded.

"Um, it's a young girl, Your Majesty. My Lord Prince Haydn thought you might take her in."

The Queen's brusque manner softened immediately at the sight of the child.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, "What a dear! She has the look of my poor sweet Belina."

I saw her fighting the tears that welled up in her eyes. One of a Queen's tragic duties I suppose—to stifle tears, even well-earned ones. Her eyes bulged and reddened furiously with the effort.

"My, but she does have an odour."

"My apologies, Your Majesty. I hadn't noticed."

I had noticed. The entire journey had been, how shall I put it gently... quite the olfactory experience.

"You didn't think to change her?" The Queen demanded. She tutted her tongue disapprovingly and went on, "It's clear she needs a new nappy."

Queen Gavdeen set forth in commanding her ladies in waiting to clear a spot on her dining table—for there were no other flat surfaces—and to find some cloth. It being a war camp, there were plenty of clean bandages at the ready.

"Those will do," Queen Gavdeen gave a nod and the diapers were laid out in preparation.

The toddler squirmed a little when she was set down on her back. I was mildly surprised to see the Queen herself undo the pins that held the heavily soiled rags in place around the child's middle.

"What in the world?" The Queen wondered aloud as she pulled a crumpled roll of parchment from the malodourous mess.

At first Danyoff recoiled in disgust in such a way as I had never seen him do before, even amidst the gore of battle. But a moment later his eyes widened and he said, "Open it, my Lady!"

She untied the ribbon—the original colour of which was indiscernible, covered in excrement as it was—and unrolled the damp scroll.

Danyoff burst into a peal of unattractive laughter before managing to exclaim, "My Queen! I've brought you the Map of Alaja!"

I suppose he was a good sleuth after all.

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Pixabay image credit: Roy Snyder