Excerpt of The Princess and the Anarchist

The carriage bucked, its large wooden tires pressing against the limits of the narrow road.

Inside, the young girl gripped the frame of her seat tensely. Her nerves were strained, more due to the late hour than the violent bouncing of the ride.

Next to her sat an older man, stout and well-dressed. He placed his hand firmly on hers, to steady her.

“Princess Saveria, calm yourself. We are more than halfway through our short trip. Soon we will be welcomed by your uncle with a feast and a fire.” His deep baritone voice did calm her. She giggled self-consciously.

“I so love my Uncle Rheane. I cannot wait to be in his arms.”

“Lay your head back, girl. Rest. It won’t be long now.”

Saveria let her head fall back against a soft, velvet-covered pillow. Her eyes closed, and she kept them shut in a resolute attempt to sleep. But sleep never came. She suddenly jerked her head up as the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

Her companion, again touching her hand, reassured her.

“Wait here, my girl.”

As the man exited the carriage he found their small caravan of guards on horseback, and the carriage, surrounded by several young boys, some atop horses, some on foot, all with swords drawn. They all wore the same style of matching head gear, feathers and rags, with painted markings across their faces.