Arabella and the Soldier’s Son

Arabella was not only a princess, but the sole heir to her Kingdom.

By the time she turned ten she was the best horse-rider in the palace, and wanted to learn all of the fighting arts from horseback, so that she might defend her country from any threats in the future. On her birthday the King and Queen showed her a house at the edge of the Capital. It was the house of the best soldier in all the land.

            “This man will teach you how to fight,” said the king, shaking hands with a grizzly, bearded man.

            “My son, Naqib, is not yet eleven,” said the Soldier, “I plan to train the two of you together, under my personal tutelage... If you can keep up with him.”

            When their training began, every day the Princess would run down to the edge of the city and learn sword-fighting, archery and hand-to-hand combat from the soldier. At the age of thirteen she could shoot as well as Naqib, and by fourteen she would often beat him at swords-play.

            “I'm still a better shot from horseback,” said Naqib, grinning, on her fifteenth birthday - as she had just tried, and failed, to beat him again. The two of them had grown to be renowned for their fighting capabilities, but also their tactical mindset, for every evening the soldier would sit them down and teach them strategy. Talking late into the night at the kitchen table, by the light of the fire. Children would come from other cities to challenge the two of them to fights, games and matches, but as the pair worked so well as a team, they had not yet been beaten. 

            On Arabella’s seventeenth birthday, a Prince came to visit from the Kingdom next to them, asking for her hand in marriage. Arabella said that she would consent to marry him – if he could beat herself and Naqib in a race. The Prince sent word for his best friend and two weeks later the four racers stood outside the Palace, an obstacle course the length of the city standing before them.

At the first cry of the cockerel they ran. Naqib sprinted out in front and started climbing the high wall of the Palace. The Princess and Prince raced off to the right, through the gates of the Palace and down towards the river the Capital had first been formed around. For the rest of the morning they ran, swam, climbed, schemed, jumped and gritted their teeth, so that when the sun hit midday, three of them were running, without energy, up the main concourse to the Palace.

The Prince’s runner was in the lead, closely followed by Arabella and although her suitor was far behind her, she could not see Naqib anywhere and was beginning to panic that he wouldn't make it in time. Putting on the biggest burst of speed she had ever found in her life, she forced her shaking legs to take her past the Northern Runner. As she felt the shadow of the Palace Wall cover her eyes, she dodged a sand-bag that had been triggered by her approach and dove forwards into the grounds, safe. Twsiting, she was gratified to see the Runner re-enter the Palace Grounds just a moment behind her. Breathing hard, she closed her eyes.

The Prince arrived, puffing and leaning against the wall.

“Did we... Did we win?” gasped the Prince, leaning on the perimeter wall, trying to breathe. A cut was bleeding on the side of his arm.

"I think so," his friend replied.

“Well, Almost.”

Arabella opened her eyes as a shadow again fell across them. Naqib was grinning down at her, holding out a flower from the rosebushes lining the Castle's wall. Taking his hand, she got up.

            “Nice running,” he said, his face shining with exertion.

            “I didn’t see you,” she took the rose

            “But I saw you,” and he kissed her.

            The Prince and his entourage left the palace the very next day and Naqib was saluted as the Kingdom’s greatest asset, at least partly for ever daring to kiss Arabella.

On Naqib’s eighteenth birthday they were married and that evening Arabella turned to him and said, “I knew you were faster than me, but by how much did you win?”

“I didn’t,” he said honestly, “about halfway through the race I doubled back, snuck up through the gardens and picked you a flower . You can't leave a matter as important as love up to chance.” 

And she kissed him.