Chapter 19 - A Servant in Rebellion

Remmaline was full of fear as her coach barreled downhill, heading deeper and deeper into Dor-ko’s country. The road was bumpy, and the road made several high-speed hairpin turns through the mountains. At times, she could glance out her window and see hundreds of feet down over the edge of the road. And she didn’t trust the driver at all. In fact, the only one she could trust was the horse. It was Darius, and he was one of the king’s best horses in the stable. Remma was sure that Mitch had chosen Darius because he was fast, strong, and safe.

After what seemed like an eternity, Remma finally felt Darius slow down and come to a halt. She stood up and peered outside. She saw Mitch grab the king’s flag and tear it down off the coach. Remma was mortified. How could he treat the flag that way? Mitch then spit on it, opened the door to the coach, and tossed it inside. “Here you go, Remma,” mumbled Mitch. It seemed to Remma that his voice was darker than she had ever heard before. “This wretched thing is no good to me.”

Remma quickly picked up the flag and dusted it off as best she could. She loved the flag, as much for how it looked as for what it represented. The flag was deep purple, with a golden lion emblazoned in the middle of it. A golden border surrounded the flag. Her brothers would have been outraged to see the flag treated this way. They no doubt would have vaulted out of the wagon and commenced wrestling with Mitch on the spot. This thought made Remma feel even worse, as she stared outside feeling totally helpless.

As she stared, she saw Mitch grab a different flag. Although she couldn’t see very clearly, it looked like the flag was totally black. It appeared to have two letters on it--and “S” and a “D”. Underneath the letters, there appeared to be a picture of a bear standing up, with his foot lying on the throat of a lamb. Remma grimaced when she saw it. She couldn’t help herself as she yelled at the top of her lungs, “That’s the dumbest flag I’ve ever seen!” Mitch didn’t answer. Instead, he commanded Darius to begin his trot, and the coach lurched forward.

It was horribly cold and windy in the mountains. Remmaline couldn’t stay warm. Her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. Hunger pains gnawed at her stomach. As this interminable ride continued, Remma began to sink into utter misery and despair. How could she possibly stay warm? As the hours wore on, the chill became even deeper. The western side of the mountains seemed to be perpetually cloudy and cold. The sun never appeared, and the incessant wind pierced through the wagon mercilessly. Finally, Remma set her eyes on the flag. She reached over and touched it. It had a smooth, velvety feel to it. She asked herself, “Would Daddy be upset with me if I used his flag like a blanket?” She knew her brothers might get mad, but she figured her daddy would be more understanding. So she carefully unfolded the banner and wrapped it around her. She instantly felt relief from the cold. She then lay down and tried to sleep again.

As she laid down, she felt a slight pain in her side. Puzzled, she reached down into the pocket of the cloak that Mitch had thrown on her the night before. She felt a hard object in her pocket and pulled it out. It looked like a hardened brownie. When she smelled it, she realized that it had come from Skittlechip’s kitchen. Only Skittlechip could make a brownie that smelled good, even a few days or weeks after he’d made it! Then Remmaline realized what must have happened. Mitch must have stolen one of Butch’s cloaks when he dressed her up during the kidnapping. And Butch the stable boy was always grabbing treats from Skittlechip’s kitchen. This was a great relief to Remma, for not only was she hungry, but she also had an insatiable sweet tooth. She warmed the cookie in her hands for a few moments and then took her first bite. In her opinion, it was the best brownie she’d ever tasted. After devouring the brownie, Remma closed her eyes and slept for a couple of hours.

When Remma awoke, it was still daylight. The journey continued. Mitch stopped briefly on two occasions to let everyone (including the horse) get a drink, but Remma barely was able to stretch her cramped legs before Mitch pushed her back onto the wagon and started moving again. Remma was afraid that Mitch might fall asleep and totally get them lost. But the journey went on, and on, and on. It wasn’t until just before nightfall that Mitch settled down for an extended stop. After crossing a stream, Mitch pulled off the road and followed a trail that went into the woods. Once he was out of sight of the road, he unhitched the wagon, told Darius to go get a drink, and then opened the wagon door. “Get out, girl,” he mumbled to Remmaline.

Remma’s legs were stiff, and her back was sore. Once again, hunger pains gnawed at her stomach. She stumbled over to a tree and plopped to the ground, leaning her back against the tree-trunk. She turned to Mitch and asked, “Do you have anything to eat? I think I’m going to die of hunger.”

Mitch came over to her. But instead of bringing food, he brought a rope. He tied one end around her foot, and he tied the other end around the tree. He then went back to the wagon and pulled out a bag. He grabbed some strips of dried deermeat and started to eat. All Remma could do was watch. Normally, Remma had no appetite for meat whatsoever. But after going a whole day with eating nothing but a brownie, she was ready to sink her teeth into anything that was remotely edible. When she could stand it no longer, she piped up and asked, “Mitch, why are you doing this?” She figured that if she couldn’t eat, she could at least keep him from eating by getting him to talk.

“You wouldn’t understand,” replied Mitch.

“What do you mean?” asked Remma.

“Look, kid, you’ve got everything. You’re a princess, the daughter of the king. You have no idea what it’s like to be a nobody, to be a common servant. I’m sick of it, kid. It’s time for a change--for me, and for you.”

“But Mitch, what do you mean that you are a ‘nobody’?” asked Remma. “You serve the king himself! Some people in the kingdom will go a whole lifetime without ever speaking personally to the king, and you get to see him every day!”

“I told you that you wouldn’t understand!” bellowed Mitch, who become suddenly very agitated. He stood up and began to pace around. “All I do is follow orders. The king tells me to do something, and I have to do it. I’m nothing but a slave, condemned to spend my whole life doing menial labor! I’m sick of it!”

“How can you say that your labor is menial?” queried Remma. “I mean, you serve the greatest king in all the land! Really, is there anything more important that doing what the king asks?”

“Shut up!” yelled Mitch, replying to Remma’s calm question with fire in his eyes. “Before I came here, I was a knight in Slumbutter’s Army. I commanded hundreds of soldiers, and they did what I told them. Now I command no one. I’m done with it, kid! I’m going back to Slumbutter.”

“But Mitch, tell me,” asked Remma, “did the king ever mistreat you? Were you not comfortable? Did he not respect you? What did he do to make you so...so bitter?”

Mitch paused before replying. “I’ll tell you the king’s problem,” he said at last. “He thinks he is so great. He thinks that nobody has anything better to do than to just do what he says. I’m sick of his...his arrogance. I mean, why should he be king? What makes him better than any of the rest of us?”

Remma was pleased that Mitch was starting to ask her questions. Although she hated being kidnapped, she prefer having a conversation to simply sitting in solitary confinement in a wagon. She replied to Mitch’s question by posing another question. “Mitch, let me ask you something. Did the king ever keep you against your will? Has he ever threatened you if you didn’t do what he asked?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” snapped Mitch.

Remma felt a little indignation swell up inside her. “Actually, I think I do!” she replied. “Look, I don’t live a perfect life. Sometimes I get upset with my daddy, even though I know he loves me. And he loves you too, by the way, even though you may not realize it. He told me once how much he thinks of you! But anyways, here’s what I’m trying to say. If I get upset, I have nowhere to go. He’s my father, and he’ll always be my father. But you--you came to him by choice! He didn’t make you come, and he’s not making you stay. In fact, if you’d just told him that you were headed back to your old Master, he’d have probably let you just go without another word. You are not a slave at all, and you know it!”

Mitch just stared at Remma. She couldn’t tell whether he was listening and thinking about what she’d said, or whether he was just plain angry.

Then, unable to stand the silence, Remma spoke up again. “In fact, I think you know that the king has treated you well. The only problem is, he hasn’t made you to be king. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? You want to be king! The problem isn’t the king’s arrogance--it is yours!”

Remma had a way of putting her finger on the real problem. LIke a master swordsman penetrates through an adversary’s defences and pierces his heart , so did Remma’s words strike at Mitch’s heart. But instead of responding with understanding, he stood up and walked over to Remma. He glared at her and raised his arm as if to strike her. But before he moved, brave little Remma spoke once more. “Go ahead and hit me, Mitch,” she said, with tears streaming down her face. “You’ve already taken away everything that is important to me. You’ve taken away my family and my home. You’ve made me hungry and thirsty and cold. And...and you’ve taken away my hair. So go ahead and hit me, Mitch. You can’t make me feel any worse than I do already.”

Mitch continued to stand over Remma with his hand raised. He was motionless for what seemed like several minutes. Then finally he relented. Without saying a word, he reached down and untied the rope around Remma’s leg. He then lumbered over to his bag, grabbed a few pieces of dried deermeat, and tossed them over to Remma. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said in a subdued voice. “There are wolves out there, and they’ll have you for dinner if you try to run away.”

Then Mitch grabbed a blanket and laid down on the ground. Without looking at Remma, he said, “Slumbutter has promised to put me in one of the highest positions in his kingdom if I deliver you to him. It’s too late to back out now. Tomorrow we’ll reach his castle. I’ll get my reward, and you--well, you’ll get taken care of. So stop talking and get some sleep.”

Within moments, Mitch was alseep. Remma walked back to the wagon and grabbed the banner. Wrapping herself up in its surprising warmth, she laid down. As she looked up at the trees above her, she thought she saw the faint outline of an owl staring down at her. Comforted by the sight, Remma closed her eyes. Before descending into slumber, she mumbled the words, “It’s never too late.”