Chapter 4

A few minutes later there was movement in the entrance to the tent. An older man entered, wearing an open rough leather vest criss-crossed with bandoliers of bullets, carrying a rifle with a bayonet. It was Kevin Warren.

Miranda gasped and gawked. “Dad!!! What are you...?” Her voice trailed off.

Kevin grinned at her. “Preston and I were talking about you, and I don’t know what gave him the idea—I didn’t ask him—but he offered me a chance to take his role for him. He’s got a daughter of his own, of course. Maybe that’s why.”

I tried to encompass the idea of Father being sentimental about me. I was still boggling when Miranda ran towards Kevin, stopping in front of him. She shrugged with frustration and laughed. “I can’t hug you, Daddy. I’ve got my hands tied.”

Kevin reached out for his daughter. “S’okay, Princess. I’ll do it for both of us.”

Miranda leaned against her father, feeling good in his arms one last time. “Oh! Speaking of princesses—he told you all about what you’re supposed to do, right?”

Kevin tapped his head. “Got it all up here. I understand it’s not as big a deal as what you and Andrew will be doing.”

She rubbed her head against his chest. “Daddy, you were always so supportive of what I wanted to do, going to the Academy and all. I was so happy when I saw you were going to be here to see what it was all for. And now to see you’re going to be part of it...”

“Not only that.” Kevin grinned. “He’s going to let me have ten percent of your thanerone—a princely gift. We’ll remember you every time we use some.”

Miranda nuzzled her dad again. “I’m so glad. It’ll almost be like getting to go home again ... afterwards.”

Kevin laughed. “I know, Princess.”

Miranda gasped. “Oh! If you’re the sergeant, I just realized what you’ll get to do at the very end. That’ll be wonderful.”

Kevin grinned and nodded. “I’m really grateful to Preston for giving me the opportunity.”

I wondered whether I would want Father to watch me hang when my time came. I was sure I didn’t want Andrew there. And yet ... I knew I was now a different person from who I’d been just yesterday. In three years maybe even Andrew could change.

Miranda looked up at her father once more. “Speaking of what it’s all for, we’ll never get to it if we don’t get out of here.”

“You’re right about that. I guess I’ve got the first line.” He bent and kissed her cheek, then went to the tent entrance, calling out loudly, “Commander, our squad has found the princess! She was hiding in the scullery.”

Andrew’s voice called back, “Excellent, sergeant! Bring him to me!”

“Yes, sir!” Kevin drew back into the tent, and signaled with his hand for Miranda to move ahead of him. As he passed Miranda, he grinned and mouthed, “Love you!” Miranda looked up at Kevin, and I suspected she’d said the same back. Miranda exited the tent; Kevin drew his rifle up, held it with the bayonet at her back, and followed her out.

I came out of my hiding place, already hearing a rising of murmurs from the partygoers watching the beautifully robed, crowned, princess approach. I stopped a few feet from the tent entrance; the dimness of the lighting at that point would keep anybody from seeing into the tent from the bright sunlight. Kevin was marching Miranda across the yard. I shook my head in wonder. Miranda, despite her bound hands, was walking so regally, her whole posture projecting grandeur and haughtiness, her tiara glittering brilliantly in the sun. Kevin pushed Miranda towards the stage, where Andrew stood in a casual slouch, his own rifle dangling from one hand and the other on his hip. Most of the audience was facing the stage, but with heads turned to watch the progress of Miranda and Kevin. Kevin poked his daughter in the back a couple of times with the button-protected tip of the bayonet, and each time Miranda, in exaggerated reaction to the strength of the poke, stumbled momentarily and squeaked in fury at the indignity. After the third poke, Kevin barked, “Move faster, royal pig!”

As the pair passed the watching crowd and came to the side of the stage, I snuck out of the tent and drifted towards the rear of the onlookers. I edged my way through the crowd with a few shoulder nudges and polite “Excuse me”s until I managed to reach the front, just a few feet from the stage.

There were three steps leading up to the carpeted surface of the stage. Andrew stood about ten feet from these steps, about halfway between them and the raised platform at the center of the stage. Behind and to the right of the platform, Big Bill stood with his huge arms folded on his chest, now wearing the same costume as Andrew and Kevin. His exposed chest and arms were even more muscular than I’d thought—really impressive.

Beth stood behind the platform in something resembling a parade-rest posture, facing front, the expression behind her shades unreadable.

I moved a few feet to get closer to the platform. My life, from this day forward, would revolve around what I was seeing now.

The platform was about four feet square and raised about two feet above the surface of the stage. The mechanism under the platform had a wooden lever on the side nearest Andrew. A noose dangled above the platform.

I examined the noose as closely as I could from where I stood. It was made from thick, smooth-looking rope tied in a hangman’s knot, and hung down from a horizontal wooden beam. The image would stay with me for the rest of my life. My first look at the center of my life.

I looked back to where Miranda had mounted the steps, prodded again by her father’s bayonet. I could see Miranda’s face clearly, her grim expression, her eyes filled with utter disdain for the man Kevin had addressed as “Commander.”

When Miranda was halfway to him, Andrew held up his hand. “Stop right there, wench.”

Miranda stopped, glaring at him, her head held high. “Scoundrel! You may not address me in that manner. To you I am ‘Your Highness,’ assuming I give you leave to speak to me at all!”

“To me, you’re just a royal pain in the ass.” The audience chuckled. “Do you know that your father and brother are dead, and that only you remain of the corrupt family that has oppressed us for so long?”

Miranda hung her head. “I did not know. I mourn for my people, who have lost a leader of uncommon valor and dedication to them.”

“Not at all. I’m standing right here. I await my acclamation as president of a free republic, but there’s one last bit of unfinished business. The last member of the deposed royal family must be executed.”

Andrew held a card in his palm, small enough that it probably contained only key words as reminders of the dialogue. He didn’t seem to need it; he must have spent a lot of time studying the script.

Miranda looked at him in horror, and turned to face the audience in front of the stage. “My people! With the passing of my father and his heir, I am your lawful queen and monarch. I command you to arrest this pretender and conduct him to the deepest dungeon where he may spend his days regretting his crime against you!”

In response, Dad, standing in the crowd, raised his fist in the air and shouted, “Hang her!”

Behind Miranda, Kevin raised his rifle above his head and took up the cry. “Hang her! Hang her!” Within seconds everyone was shouting the same words together. This was Miranda’s big moment, so I shook my own fist and joined in. “Hang her! Hang her!”

Andrew raised both hands, and the chanting subsided. Above the last voices, he shouted, “The people have spoken. Hear me now!” He waited for complete silence, and turned towards Miranda. “Your Highness,” he used the title with an ironic sneer, “I hereby sentence you to be hanged by the neck until you are dead!”

She shouted defiantly, “You may not! I will not suffer the fate of a common criminal!”

Andrew exclaimed, “Your family’s criminal corruption has been a curse on our people for generations! You have brought contempt on the traditions of royalty. Remove that robe, whose color you are not fit to wear!”

“Villain! Your scruffy men stripped me of my clothing and left me nothing but this robe to wear! No man may look at me that way except the one who is chosen to be my husband! The lives of your men are already forfeit for seeing what they have seen. You must not condemn these good people before us to the same fate.”

Andrew smiled. “I don’t believe that will be a problem. As my first presidential act, I hereby declare that everyone here is a baronet.” Everyone laughed.

Andrew took a step forward, reaching towards the front of Miranda’s robe. The blonde stepped back again, feeling the bayonet once more, and shouted, “You may not! Do not touch me!”

Andrew tucked his rifle under one arm, and took hold of the ends of the sashes holding the robe closed, one in each hand. With a dramatic jerk, he pulled on both at once, loosening the slip-knots.

Untying the sash allowed the metal band in the collar to spring open. It pushed off against the back of Miranda’s neck, and the whole robe suddenly sprang back off her shoulders to drape itself over Kevin’s rifle.

Every audience member jumped slightly at the unexpected movement, but that initial reaction was overwhelmed an instant later by a loud, collective gasp. The shrew next to me exclaimed “Holy shit!” under his breath, while his girlfriend in front of him breathed an astonished “Wow!” Even Beth was staring at Miranda, though I was sure she knew Miranda’s body with the intimacy only lovers can have. And Kevin, standing beside Miranda, gawked wide-eyed. His grip on the rifle slackened, and the robe slipped off his rifle to the floor of the stage. He didn’t seem to notice.

I realized my jaw was hanging open, and I couldn’t seem to close it. I had seen Miranda naked for a good part of the last hour or two, but I was still not prepared for this. I saw now what the purpose of the powder had been; the effect hadn’t been so noticeable in the dim light of the tent.

Miranda was the most incredible sight I’d ever seen. She stood there, her hands behind her back, her head held proudly, her shoulders back and breasts thrust forward. Every square inch of her skin gleamed in the sunlight. Every cut of every muscle, every soft feminine curve,, was picked out by the light in exquisite detail and made somehow more real than reality itself. Miranda was not simply a princess. She was a glowing golden goddess.

For at least a minute, Andrew stood blinking, his mouth half open, his eyes fixed on Miranda, not appearing to know exactly where he was or what he was doing. Suddenly he twitched and looked around as he realized the next move was his.

He smiled shakily, and took a couple of casual steps to the side so that he was between Miranda and the audience. “There’s still a way you might save your life,” he told Miranda. Face me and get down on your knees.”

Miranda continued looking straight ahead defiantly, and Andrew caught Kevin’s eyes and gave him a barely noticeable gesture with his head and eyes, Kevin had track of his lines for a moment. He nodded back and put his hand on Miranda’s shoulder, shouting, “You heard him, wench! Get down.” He appeared to be forcing his daughter to turn and kneel to Andrew. Miranda sank down onto one knee, then the other.

I realized the staging at this point had the purpose of letting the audience see clearly that Miranda’s hands were very securely tied, just as she’d told me back in the tent.

Andrew barked, “Bow down!”

Miranda shook her head vigorously, until Kevin pressed the tip of the bayonet against her shoulder. “Down, he said!” Slowly and gracefully, Miranda bent at the waist and leaned forward until her head was touching the stage.

I smiled. Many levels of thought that must have gone into creating this scenario. The intention here must have been to give the men a nice, long look at Miranda’s taut bottom and swollen pussy. And the women got to see the taut rope tied between the Miranda’s buttcrack and pussy lips. It had its effect: all the men in the audience were shifting their stances slightly to accommodate growing erections. Those probably started when Miranda’s robe flew off. The woman next to me reached toward her crotch and started rubbing herself. My guess was she didn’t even realize she was doing it; all her thoughts were concentrated on Miranda.