Rescue
an excerpt

With reverent silence, as much as can be managed in a suit of plate armor, Sir Dietmar climbed the hundred stones steps. He opened the door to the princess’ chamber, perched at the very top of the narrow tower. There behind curtains of sheerest silk lay the sleeping woman. Removing his helm he knelt by her side, entranced by the vision of beauty before him. Pale creamy skin, fair golden locks contained by a net studded with pearls, her tiny hands lay folded on her chest; his knees trembled as he bent over her. His lips brushed over hers, the scent of roses filled the air. Her perfect lashes fluttered once, twice. Opened to reveal the guileless gaze of a newborn child. She sighed once, and then the lids closed once more. There was a loud thud as Sir Dietmar the Uncouth fell back onto the floor.

“Damn.” Chetan felt like swearing, he felt as if there were not enough curses in the world. Crossing the room, he flung open a cabinet door. Piled inside were the sleeping forms of more than a dozen Knights in various styles of armor. No room there. Under the bed was full as well. Flinging open the shutters, he gave shrill whistle