Identity
an excerpt

Linnea and Kennet always left a window open—except in the coldest part of winter. The old king and queen had never been able to break them of it. But is wasn’t from the window that the young couple got their first hint that something was amiss.

Waking with a suppressed scream, Linnea found herself immediately in Kennet’s soothing arms, one was around her shoulders and the other was massaging her deformed foot.

“Shhhh, shhhh,” the young king said, distractedly, still soothing in the midst of his sleep-induced stupor. “It’ll pass. It won’t be long.” Linnea tried to laugh but gasped instead, unsuccessful.

“If we’re not careful, the next time I go into labor, you’ll be trying to soothe my leg instead of my contractions.” Then her focus was wholly taken up by controlling her voice as the pain again flashed through her damaged muscles
.
Suddenly, out the window in the garden there was a scream, quickly cut off, and a scuffle. Linnea was out of the bed without thinking, the pain gone as if by magic, and gimping as fast as she could to the window.

“Kennet! That was Cecilia, I know it was!” More cries. The ugly thud of skull on paving stones, and Kennet was out the window, leaping and swinging like some wild thing down the huge tree beside their outer wall. Linnea caught up an outer robe and yanked it on as she hobbled to the closet that held a semi-secret staircase into the garden below. She came out of the darkness just in time to see Kennet exhibit a fantastic athletic feat of dexterity—leaping nearly over the garden wall—grabbing at something. It must have been the end of a ladder.
Someone was going over the wall!

Whoever was on the other side must have let go. There was a horrid moment of indecision and finally the man’s weight proved greater—dropping the young king on the inside of the wall with the heavy wooden ladder nearly on top of him.

Hardly aware of this missed danger, Kennet deftly moved from under it, instinctually verified it was steady and then vaulted to the top of the wall with a fierce cry. As close be hind him as if he’d been there the whole time, another massive young man nearly climbed over Kennet before he’d reached the top of the wall. Linnea watched, choking on an unnamable fear, as her husband and brother-in-law both froze on the edge ready to leap, and reconsidered.

In the hideous pause that followed, Linnea looked around her and saw the girl who’d hit the paving stones. It was Runa, Cecilia’s serving maid. A young woman so like Linnea in looks that the young queen had at first been a little jealous of the older girl.

Suddenly aware she was moving, Linnea ran to the maid’s side, falling to her knees as she came close and crawling the rest of the way.

“What happened?” she hissed. “What happened here?”

“My… Lady?” even her voice sounded broken and—in the moonlight at least—her face was very white.

“Yes, yes, I’m your lady. You may speak freely. Where is the Princess Cecilia?”

“Taken…suddenly” said Runa, her words slurring as she tried to press herself up from the ground.

“Be still, woman,” said Linnea, trying to sound gentle despite her impatience. “Lie there until you’re actually strong enough to get up. We don’t yet know what they did to you.”

“Took the princess. Hurt me.” The words were coming rhythmically with her labored breathing. “She wanted to see him—not leave with him. Not yet.”

Linnea felt the pain in her foot again and choked on a sob she wasn’t ready to release. She couldn’t decide if the pain was in her body or her heart.

“Do not speak to the young kings about that,” she whispered. “I will see that her husband learns of it in the proper time. Too soon and it may kill him.”

Runa nodded, the movement pivoting clumsily across Linnea’s arm as the younger girl supported the maid’s head onto her lap. There was the slap of bare feet on stone again as the brothers ran back from the wall. The rhythmic thrum of many shod feet approached from around the inner wall.

The regiment had finally arrived. What they saw confused them: the two blond girls looking in the dimness like twins—the head of one on the lap of the other. The true twins, looking nothing like each other except for being under-clothed, just reaching the side of the women, one massive chest and one thin one heaving with emotion more than exertion.

Young Tykone broke ranks as soon as he saw the woman on the ground, rushing to kneel beside the young queen. “Is she going to be alright?”

“I don’t know Tyko,” Linnea whispered through her teeth. “And we also don’t know what happened to her mistress.” This message seemed not to penetrate until an older, rough voice asked, “Do you have orders for us majesties?” Tykone looked up to see the old captain with a calloused hand on the large prince’s back. Kennet looked for a moment at the old captain’s example before mirroring it.

To Kennet's surprise his brother turned into his chest and stopped holding back his tears. Looking helplessly at Linnea, Kennet wrapped his arms wordlessly around his brother’s shaking body.

Unconsciously, Linnea’s touch turned gentle and she began softly stoking Runa’s hair. Her eyes met Tykone’s and registered surprise at the worry she saw there.

“Your orders, Majesty? The old captain asked again, focusing on Kennet this time. Kennet nodded and stood slowly, pulling his brother with him to his feet.

“The bride of Prince Torbjorn has been kidnapped,” Kennet said, his voice carrying through all of the garden. There were gasps from the edges of the garden where servants had gathered to understand the source of the commotion. “We saw the princess across the saddle of a strange man galloping to join his regiment.” He turned to the old captain. “My orders, Valtar: select a dozen of your best fighters who can ride swiftly and your most experienced tracker. We are going after them all tonight. Now.” Valtar bowed sharply from the waist and turned to walk quickly through the soldiers, selecting quickly from those present.

Tykone jumped up. “Captain! I wish to go as well.”

“You will stay here, Hjalmar Tykone. I will be the tracker the young king requires. I don’t know how long this will be, and I need a man I trust to maintain the castle defenses while we are gone.” Resisting the impulse to look again at Runa, Tykone nodded heavily.