Valsurstagt: The fight for the throne, part 2

I opened my eyes, and blinked sleepily at the sunlight. Then I sat up, remembering last night and how I was most certainly not back in my little cellar room at the palace.
Very strange, I thought. Everything had been very strange. I began to have questions about the whole experience. The first was, how did Maornya know about me, and how in the kingdoms had she gotten hold of my kivae? The next one, was how had Tatyana known about me and Maornya?
The second was easier to answer, Tatyana was the queen, she probably had spies everywhere. My guess about Maornya was that she had used magic, but it was only a guess.
I considered Maornya, wondering why I had been at all scared. Yes, she was a sorceress, but she looked to be not much older than me, and with my kivae, I was protected. I really had no reason to fear.
I stood up, and shook out my cloak and dress. It was a rather warm day from the time of year, and I took off the cloak, feeling hot.
Looking about, I began to wonder where I was. The mountain covered the northern half of Valsurstagt, and extended into Acheron, I could be anywhere. That might prove to be a problem. If I was lost in the mountains, it would hardly be easy to stage a fight for the throne.
With the cloak over my arm, I began to walk towards the edge of the valley. I had no idea which direction I was going in, but supposed this would be as good as any.
I was lucky. When I came over the ridge, I looked down, down, into a deep gorge, and there were the peaks and spires of a city. I started down. I needed to find out where I was, first of all, and then I needed to find a place to stay until the trial of Vanderlak, when I could prove my claim to the throne.
While I walked, I thought how everything had changed so much in one short night. It was odd that I was not more confused, but everything felt natural, as though this was really my destiny. To be Queen of Valsurstagt.

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I walked down the side of the gorge for the best part of the morning, and arrived in the city when the sun was overhead. As I approached, I took precautions by slipping the kivae under the collar of my dress, and pulling my hair down over my ears. I stowed the cloak behind a rock, so I shouldn’t have to carry it, and walked into the city.
It was not much different from the great city of Vanderlak where I had been born. Except, the atmosphere seemed slightly different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.
I came to an inn, near the center of the city, and slipped in. I was famished. I hadn’t eaten since noon of the previous day.
“What will it be then?” asked the innkeeper, when I sat down on a stool at the counter. I understood the words, it was the same language that I knew, but with a very different accent.
“Breakfast please,” I felt in my apron pocket, and pulled out a few copper yrasts (that is the currency in Valsurstagt).
“Where do you come from?” asked the innkeeper, staring. “That’s one coin that I’ve never laid eyes on before. Sorry, but I only take durks and turins.”
I was in Acheron! The only country who used the turin currency. I had traveled hundreds of miles in that second.
“Oh, thank you anyway,” I said, getting up, and making for the door.
“Hey!” he called after me. “What about that accent? Sounds Valsurn to me.”
I turned, feeling a bit uneasy. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two men get up from a table near the door.
“We don’t like foreigners,” one slurred. He was obviously more than a little drunk.
“That is hardly my problem,” I said, feeling irritated.
Then, they began to advance on me, and I bit my tongue. That had not been a good thing to say.
Before I could think, the bigger man, took a punch at me. It hit my jaw, and knocked me back onto the floor of the inn. I gasped, and held my chin as it throbbed.
“Yeah,” said the other. “We don’t like stuck-up foreign misses who waltz into our city pretending to be miss somebody-from-somewhere.”
I stood up, and began to walk toward the door.
“Ah, no you don’t,” said the first thug, grabbing my arm. “We need to teach all them dirty Valsurns a lesson!”
“You let go of me!” I hissed, trying to yank my arm away.
Before I knew what was happening, the second thug pulled a knife from his pocket and slashed at my hand. Once, twice, a large bloody X etched on my palm. I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, I could only stand there stupidly, looking at the dripping red marks, and feeling the most horrible pain I had ever felt in my life.
Then, my feelings came back, and I ran. He had let go of me to handle the knife. I slammed out of the door and kept running. I tried to pull out my kivae, but my unhurt hand was clutching the wounded one, trying to stop the bleeding. I heard shouts.
“She’s getting away!”
“After her! filthy foreigner!”
In terror, I put on a burst of speed and careened round a corner, right into a wall. A dead end. I ran to the wall, and began to climb the rough stones, the blood of my hand leaving smears wherever I touched. I heard running footsteps, and felt a yank on my ankle.
I lost my weak hold, and fell to the ground. I landed with my foot underneath me and heard a sickening crack. My ankle was on fire. There was the man over me, with the knife. The knife was falling toward me. I tried to scramble up, but could hardly move, I couldn’t make my foot move. My eyes watered in pain, as I felt the knife tear my flesh for the second time, all down my back. My eyes shut inadvertently, and I collapsed to the ground, seeming to lose control of my limbs.
I felt a pool of blood forming underneath my back, from the ghastly cut. They’ll finish me off now! I thought in terror, and tensed for the final blow. Now I’ll never live to be Queen.
But instead I heard a shout. “Stop!” more footfalls.
“Is she alive?” another voice.
“I’m not sure, those filthy drunkards, murdering a girl.”
“I’m all right,” I whispered, trying to open my eyes.
“Don’t try to speak,” said the first voice.
I heard the words faintly as I drifted into blissful darkness and knew nothing more for a long time.