Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

The Crown Prince (DudeMeister and LaBellaMia)

DudeMeister

DudeMeister

Star
Joined
Apr 29, 2013
The tranquil calm of the morning was interrupted by pained grunts, and the sounds of boots splashing in mud. Vincent gasped for breath as he ran, his hand grasping the shaft of an arrow that pierced his shoulder. His parents and the castellan warned not to hunt alone, but he'd have none of it. He was groomed to be a warrior king, and was stubborn as an ox. That decision would cost him however, when a routine early morning boar hunt turned into a heated conflict against brigands. The prince preferred to stalk his prey dismounted, so he couldn't run away. Instead the war sword that he always wore claimed the hand of one of his foes before he turned away to flee their overwhelming numbers…however he ended up running right into a loosed arrow, hence his current predicament.

The wavy dark brown hair stuck to his sweaty brow as he claimed a momentary respite, leaning against a tree. Grunting he twisted the cruel arrowhead out of the meat of his sword arm, but no sooner had he relieved himself of the shaft did his wound begin to bleed out, a river of red staining his brown tunic. Hearing rustling in the bushes, Vincent turned to see a pair of men, one brandishing an axe whilst the other held a bow of blackened yew. Pressing his back against the tree, he hoped to conceal himself from his assailants, but no sooner than he did, he was met with a man wielding a knife. The blade slashed against his face, leaving a scar that he would bear for the rest of his life (should he survive). Gritting in pain, he raised his sword and hewn at the man full of wrath, the honed edge imbedding itself into his skull. With that done, he began to run towards the furious rapids of the river. Luck was not with him, as he heard the grunting of the man chasing him with his axe raised. Deciding to take his chances instead of meeting his end with an axe in his back, he turned and slashed horizontally, spilling the mans intestines on the dirt. As he turned he heard the thrum of a bowstring, and felt the shocking pain of an arrow piercing his calf.

His run was reduced to a pitiful limp as he fled for his life, his prized sword dropping from his hand as he dove into the raging river. A hail of arrows followed him, but all became shafts of driftwood once they pierced the surface of the water. He gasped for air as he resurfaced and swam for all he was worth, his lungs feeling like they were about to explode as his arm and leg bled into the water. After what felt like an eternity of pumping his arms and legs, his hand pounded into the dirt of the opposite shore. Out of the range of arrows, the young prince was safe for now. Pulling himself to the surface, he struggled to stand, but found himself weakened from the conflict. Turning to his back, his clothes clung to his stout body as his gasped for breath. His world turned dark as his life began to slowly pump out of his open wounds.
 
Rhiannon glanced at her array of dried herbs, plants and minerals that she used for healing and frowned. She was in desperate need of a trip to the local market but certainly hated the risk of being followed. She had built this home with her brother when they had been naught but children. Running away from the life of being the children of a convicted witch. It had been there haven for so many years, at least until his death five years before. Now it was her only refuge and she rarely made a trip to the local market town unless it was absolutely neccessary for her rarer herbs. Unfortunately a trip to market meant at least four days from home and risking being assaulted by fiends who would see fit to steal her money or what they considered fine possessions. She also needed cloth for a couple of new kirtles. The gown she had on had been one of two she had bought nearly a year ago on her last trip to the market.

A whining at the door made her turn and see her pet scratching and waiting to go outside. "Alright...I see you," she sighed then smoothed out her thin kirtle before going to the door. The pet in question was a now three year old pure white wolf named Winter who had been Rhiannon's constant since she had found her alone in the woods, the mother dead from being caught in a trap. The poor thing had barely been off weaning and had been crying beside it's dead mother with soft pitiful whimpers that had torn at Rhiannon's soul. The two of them were kindred spirits in their loneliness and she was glad for her company, especially during the cold months when the snow was so thick and the fire unable to produce enough heat.

As she opened the door, Winter was quick to lope off into the woods and Rhiannon smirked before looking back at her small cabin. It was a small one roomed place with a hearth and chimney that her brother had built with his own two hands. It was a large enough space she supposed with a table and two stools by it and a long counter against the wall. Shelves were neatly arranged on one wall holding all of her effects that she used to heal the poor animals she found injured or ill and to one corner was a large bed that she had fashioned of the bed her brother had onced used and her own. It gave plenty of room for herself and Winter to use during the night. Winter, after all, was a large creature. Deciding she could go for a bath, she grabbed her wildflower scented soap and clean kirtle before making her way down to the river. It was less than a half mile's walk and was situated around an alcove of trees and stones that pretty much shielded her from the view of anyone if she was careful enough. Though these parts of the woods were rarely used by anyone. It was a good five miles to the main road in any direction and so she was hidden away in the forest, away from the people who would see her burned for her abilities to heal.

She saw Winter not far ahead and grinned. "What is it girl? Do you want a bath as well," she smiled and the wolf glanced at her before rushing off to the bank. Laughing, Rhiannon followed after her, stepping over stones and limbs as she went. She was certainly a lovely young woman. Her hair was red-gold, her waist slender, and her eyes were blue as the sky on a clear day. Despite her bonny looks, her dress was simple and her hair, for the moment was neatly pinned off of her neck.

As she approached the river bank, she froze at the sight of a man laying on the bank. A pool of scarlet was around him. she knew the sight well. Blood...Rushing toward him, she saw that Winter was trying to nudge him awake. The man was deathly pale and as she dropped to his side, she could feel the pulse of life in his neck but it was fading rapidly. He was in need of care and despite the risk she knew she had to aide him as best she could. Whoever he was, he would die without her.

------

Getting him back to the cabin had been simple enough. she had used her clean kirtle to create a tourniquet on his limbs to staunch the bleeding and then had used her strength and Winter's help to carry him back to the cabin. The wolf had taken him by the collar of his tunic while Rhiannon had taken his legs. It had been akward and taken much effort but he was soon laying upon her large bed.

Quickly she covered the still bleeding wounds with the powder of a certain mushroom that would staunch the bleeding and then made a quick poultice. After nearly an hour of sewing and even cauterizing his wounds, stripping him down and tearing at his hose, he was soon mended. The herbs would do most of the work and she would certainly not let him die if she could help it. But she definitely could not use her true abilities to heal him else he be a witch hunter.

"Rest easy now stranger..." she whispered. "You're safe here..." she promised to him gently then took a stool, setting it by the bed, meaning to nurse him through the night. Hopefully by morning, he would wake up.
 
As the prince laid wet and dying upon the river bank, he felt his breathing grow shallower with each passing second. As the darkness took him, he felt himself grow cold, and felt his aching body become weightless. Was this what happened one you died? Strangely enough, instead of cursing the gods for being cut down in the prime of his life, he came to accept his fate. He only wished that he could've lived longer to assume the throne and rule his country. Despite his shortcomings, Vincent always resolved to rule his land justly…and if he had to die, he would die in battle in a blaze of glory. Instead he met his end at the hands of brigands, to craven to take him on in a fair fight. His musings were cut short as his world turned to light, a far an angelic voice consoling him in his final moments of his mortal coil.

------

"What do you mean you failed?!?!?" Percival boomed, knocking over a flagon of wine in a blind fury.

"Well, we jumped him while his was hunting, but he was rather tough for a prince. Done chopped up Gaston's arm before he bolted off. Poor bastard died before we could stop the bleeding" the sellsword said.

"So…you done nothing when that little shit cut down your man? You didn't even try to pursue him?"

"Our man got an a few arrows in him, but he just kept running. He brained another one of ours before he made for the river. Our man got a few more arrows in him though. No way he'd survive that" the sellsword lied.

"I didn't pay you leave anything to chance. You have your men search the riverbanks for that bastard's corpse or I'll have your head. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!" Percival yelled

The sellsword nodded and bolted upon his dismissal. Percival wiped his blond locks out of his face before he began to brood about the failure of Vincent's demise. If he should survive, chances were that he'd just think it was an ambush. But than again, the prince was smarted than he looked…

------

Vincent stirred as the first golden rays of sun filtered through the shutters. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking the blur from his vision, he struggled to sit up. His mouth was dry and raspy, and his shoulder and leg cried out in pain from where he took the arrows. He slowly turned his head towards his shoulder, and noticed the poultice that was applied to his wound. Lifting his hand to touch it, he winced in sudden pain before he noticed the woman at his bedside. Had she tended to his wounds? Glancing over to her, he couldn't help but notice what a beauty she was. With her auburn locks framing her face, that slim figure that rounded into a buxom chest, she'd be a catch for any man.

"My lady…did you bring me here?" he asked
 
Her night had been filled with changing his bandages when they were soaked through with blood or infection. The poultices had done a fine job in keeping him from growing feverish. His color had returned and she had ended up dozing off once she was sure he would survive. Winter had woken her to go outside at dawn and as she had come back to the bed, she saw that he was awake, and calling her my lady.

"I did bring you here but I am no lady...." The nineteen year old told him with a soft laugh. "I found you by the river and my pet and I brought you back. My pet is a wolf...a very strong thing. I wouldn't of been able to manage carrying you alone..." Rhiannon walked to the bucket of fresh water and put some in a mug before coming back to him. "Here..." She said, gently lifting his head and helping him to drink before gingerly laying him back down. "Your wounds are quite something. Whoever you found yourself involved in a fight with, they certainly wanted you dead...and nearly succeeded if not for me finding you laid on the banks bleeding to death yesterday afternoon..." She slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. "I had to tear my spare kirtle up just to stop you from bleeding to death. And despite your weakened state, you did not like me sewing you up...Fought me quite a bit," she smiled.

"Do you think you can stomach some food?" She asked curiously. "If so, I will make some oatmeal...it won't take to long....and I think I have some bread and cheese...what say you sir?" She asked him, keeping her tone even and her speech clear. Despite his wounds, he was a handsome man and his clothes, despite the blooded state they had been, were of fine and expensive material. Whoever he was, he was a man of wealth and she guessed some thieves had tried there luck in robbing him.
 
As he heard her story concerning his discovery, he gazed warily at the large wolf in question and found himself backing up beneath the sheets. Soon however, the woman before him brought him water to quench his thirst. He coughed slightly, but was great full for the reprieve of his dry throat.

"In either case, I thank you. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused. I am eternally grateful for all that you have done for me. I will be sure to pay you back. If you wish, I can by you as my kirtles as you'd like." he said after he wiped his lips.

Lifting his arm, it burned in agony. He wasn't quite sure what she put in the poultice, but he was grateful that it stopped the bleeding. He was glad that she got to him when she did.

"I don't know who I was beset by. I was hunting early in the morning when they attacked me. I managed to kill a few before they loosed their craven's arrows upon me." he explained when she queried about his wounds. At her offer of food, his stomach growled furiously in hunger.

"Some food would be great actually…if it's not to much trouble" he conceded.
 
"No trouble at all..." Rhiannon promised him then stole a glance at Winter who was watching, curled up by the door before looking at the stranger laying there in her bed, wounded. "Oh you do not have to worry about her. She's a harmless creature...A bit wild I suppose but she is a good lass. Stays to herself most of the time..." She gave Winter a look to stop her staring and the wolf whined but laid down and rested her large head on her paws. She walked to the hearth, adding water to the pot to start it boiling and then grabbed some bread before coming back to her stool to sit beside him. "Best you eat something to settle your stomach...I'm sure you're hungry," she said, offering him the crusty slices that were sweetened with a bit of honey. "And don't worry about my kirtle. I plan on heading to market in a day or two, once I'm sure you are better. Though the state of your wounds may have you laying abed for at least another three days..."

She glanced at his torn clothes then back at him. "I regretfully had to take your clothes off. They were bloodied and shredded to bits but I am sure something of my brother's will fit your frame, though I admit it is not so finely made...I take it you must be a merchant's son or a son to a lord? I don't think I've ever seen material so fine, even if it was soaked in blood and irreparable."

Rhiannon watched him and then smiled. "I am Rhiannon...by the way...formerly of Eston...it is far better to call me that than milady," she said in good humor. "I'm just a mere peasant girl of little consequence..."
 
Looking at the interaction between the two, he decided that he was as safe as he could be in his position. The woman seemed benevolent, and the she-wolf seemed to listen to her. It seemed more docile than he'd expect of a wolf, but the size of the mighty canine told him to tread lightly. He found himself pulling the sheets closer to his chest to hide his nakedness…but gratefully accepting the bread. He did his best to eat with dignity, but his ravenous hunger took over as he wolfed the bread down.

"My family has lands and is well off, yes. My name is Vincent. I am a squire" he replied at her queries concerning his clothing. He didn't know who this woman Rhiannon was but from what he could tell she was to be trusted. He wasn't going to tell her the whole truth, but there was no use in denying something she already knew. Being a nobleman's son sent off to learn the arts of war seemed to be a good cover at the moment. Squires often hunted in the woods, so his story might be believable.

"I have heard of woodland healers nestled within the realm, but I dismissed it as hearsay. How long have you and your brother been living in this forest?" he asked her curiously
 
"Well..I have lived here since I was about ten years old. My brother...he passed away a few years ago...Not to long after that, I found Winter and now she and I are close companions. She helps ease the loneliness." Glancing at her wolf, Rhiannon looked back at the man named Vincent. Squire seemed to fit the quality of his clothes and he had no reason to lie. Unless he thought she meant to kill him or something, which would be pointless considering how much she had take to treating his wounds. "I suppose he passed away. I found some blood near the river's edge and torn clothing but never him. And he hasn't ever returned home...It would of been nice to give him a proper burial," she swallowed then brushed her hair back from her face before getting up to check on the water. Stirring in the oats, she remained silent for a few minutes before looking at him. "As soon as you are up and about, I can lead you to the market town close by but I have no horse so it may take a day or two. After that I am sure you shall be able to find your family and explain the situation. Just when you do, I would prefer it if you didn't let them know where I reside..."

To many people would start sniffing around, wanting her help and she would risk revealing her true abilities and be beaten and burned for it. People feared what they didn't understand and they would fear her as they had her mother. "I just...I like my privacy..." She explained and then gave the oats another stir before covering them up. Walking over to he trunk at the foot of the bed, she grabbed a cambric shirt that was a bit yellowed from age and then walked over to him. "Here...I'm sure you have your modesty," she grinned at him and then let him dress while she turned her back and went back to stirring the oatmeal cooking away.
 
"I'm sorry for your loss. I didn't mean to bring such a painful subject up" Vincent said, feeling more than a little awkward. He watched Rhiannon as she got up and made her way towards the fireplace to stir the oats that were boiling in the pot. He scooted back as she laid out the clothing she procured from the trunk by the foot of the bed.

"Thank you…I appreciate all your help, but there must be some way that I can repay you. I'm not quite sure why you'd prefer to remain alone in the woods days away from civilization, but you have my word that I won't divulge your location to anyone." he said, reaching over and grabbing the shirt before he pulled it over his head, careful not to rip the poultice as he eased his arms through the sleeves.

"But surely there must be something that I can do for you. Is there anything at all that you need?" he asked
 
Rhiannon looked at him as he mentioned why she would prefer to live alone. She didn't prefer this life, it was just easier but she could not very well tell him why could she? If he was a Squire, he was rich enough to attend the court of the King and one word would have her being tied to a stake so fast that she couldn't blink. The king and many others feared magic because they could not understand it or use it for themselves. They would kill her, or worse, use her for their own selfish purposes. Slowly she looked back down at the pot, listening as he asked her if she had need of anything. Swiftly, she shook her head.

"Nay. I'm quite able to handle things by myself. I have done so for quite a long time," she murmured gently, covering the pot once more and wiping her hands on her apron. "It will be thanks enough that you heal properly," she smiled at him then sighed. "I live alone because it's suits me. Perhaps sometimes I'm lonely but I like it here. This place is one of paradise, quiet...I haven't ever faced issue with thieves. Not that I have much to have stolen. They can have my collection of herbs," she smirked and then brushed her hair back from her face as she sank back down on the stool by the bed. "Do not worry so much Sir Vincent. And as for my brother, do not apologize. You would harldy know he was deceased until I told you and I've learned to live without him though it was difficult. Winter helped. She is quite a good wolf, despite the reputation wolves have," she smiled then looked down at her lap.
 
Vincent crept out of the bed when her back was turned to slip into the trousers she laid out for him. Listening to her, he couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't being completely honest with him. She seemed like she was trying to hide something. Well, to be fair, he was hiding something as well. Besides, she saved his life. He'd give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Well I've always been a quick healer, so I'll be on the mend before long. Until then, there is no reason for me to be useless. Is there anything I can do to help out around here?" he asked
 
"Well I can't have you chopping wood can I? Do sit down. You've been out long enough that you are far to weak to be standing. Eat first and then we can discuss how you can help around here though I dare say the most I shall let you do is sit in the garden and pull weeds," she told him and then walked over to the pot once more, finding the oats tender enough to eat and adding honey and cinnamon as well as freshly diced apple before stirring them in to flavor the oatmeal. After making two bowlfulls, she set them on the small table to cool and then took the pot off the stove and glanced at him once more with a smirk as she grabbed a spoon for him to eat with. Old and brass it had seen better days but it would work well enough for him to eat with.

"For a man nearly mortally wounded you are certainly stubborn. I wager it was that stubbornness that kept you alive. Lord only knows how long you were on the banks of the river before I found you, " she said simply and then walked over to the bed with his bowl of food, tucking pillows behind him and around his legs. "I shall make good on my threat that I will tie you to the bed and I don't think you shall like it. I won't have you overexert yourself. You should be well enough to travel in a couple of days if you do not overexert yourself or try to help overmuch. If you are to bored tomorrow then I will see what I can have you do to help though the task will be menial at best..." She smiled at him, showing that she was nothing if not stubborn and strong willed. Man or not, stranger or not, she wouldn't let him tear his wounds open again if she could help it.
 
"Squires are trained to take punishment in order to prepare for the battlefield. I guess it's a good thing that I'm as stubborn as I am" he said as he watched her make her way closer to the bed, thanking her for the bowl of oatmeal and for tucking the pillows behind him. As she was close to him, he took a quick gaze at her beautiful face. He felt a lock of her soft auburn hair brush gently against his cheek.

"I suppose that I'll have to comply with you no matter how boring it would be, however I can think of worse things than being tied down to your bed" he said with a smirk

-----

It was a few days of recovery before the two decided to make the trip to the royal capital. Although his wounds had significantly healed, the trek was difficult. What was worse was that the two were always vulnerable to attack whilst traveling the forest road. Vincent felt naked without a sword. It was a pity that he lost his when he fled from his attackers a few days before. However her wolf Winter was with them, and it was likely that she was the only deterrent they needed. The forest ended a few miles away from the town that was their destination, so they left the she wolf to hunt for herself until they came back. It wasn't long before the two pressed onward into the city, the morning commotion of merchants carting up their wares to the bazaar, children playing in the street, and the ever consistent patrolling of the city watch.

"Well, so we finally made it." he said, fatigued from their journey
 
"Aye we have," she smiled at him, guiding him on the off chance he collapsed from fatigue. "You look pretty tired. I'm sure there is an inn close by for you to rest tonight and you can send word to your family or a friend of your whereabouts..." She was saying only to be cut off by an approaching soldier.

"Your Highness!" The man exclaimed. Gray haired and tall, despite his age he was obviously still in prime physical condition. "By God what are you doing dressed like that. We have been sending search parties all over the countryside for you..." His tone was in part scolding, but also relief. "Your father has been quite put out..." He mused and then finally turned to Rhiannon, taking in her appearance and then snorting. "Honestly nephew, what in blazes, disappearing for nearly a week to have some lay with a peasant girl?"

"I beg your pardon!" Rhiannon gasped out, shocked that he would even suggest she was some harlot. As he spoke however, an overwhelming sense of panic began to form. Prince, not Squire. The words Your Highness and nephew made her feel sick. No. That could not possibly be true.

"You will remember your place girl...when speaking to a man of higher rank," he shouted back, glowering at her. "I am the king's brother and your time spreading yourself for my nephew is done. Be on your way or I will have your ear nailed to a pillory... " he threatened. She felt her cheeks color, in rage and humiliation before stepping toward him.

"If not for me your nephew would be dead. Have you not noticed the weakness to his gait, that he is still pale? I have journeyed two days with him after getting him well enough to travel. I am no whore and I will not be treated with such disrespect. I don't care if you are the king himself!"

The man looked astonished at her brazen outburst and then looked to Vincent. Prince Vincent. Heaven help her she was such a fool. Of all men to have healed, she had chosen the son of the most powerful witch hunter in the realm. "Does this woman speak true nephew?" He asked.
 
Vincent saw his uncle Sir Albrecht approach the two of them. Despite being the older brother of his father, Albrecht chose the life of a knight instead. After a lifetime of battle he returned to the royal capital to be the castle's master-at-arms, having trained Vincent in the arts of war since he was 10. His uncle was always kind to him…accept in the courtyard where the two trained for hours. That was where Albrecht the warrior would come out, and Vincent would be cut and bruised all over. The prince was great full however for this harsh tutelage…it saved his life after all.

"It is true uncle. I went out for an early morning hunt when I was attacked by bandits. I slew a few of them, but had been pierced by arrows. I escaped by diving into the river, but passed out after pulling myself to the opposite shore. Lady Rhiannon carried me and saw to my wounds. If it wasn't for her, I'd be dead." he stated, pacing in front of Rhiannon almost protectively.

"I want to go home uncle. I wish for Rhiannon to accompany us at the castle. She rescued me and allowed me to break bread in her house. It is only fair that we provide her with hospitality" he added
 
She swallowed. So it was true. God help her she was good as dead. Of all the men to of healed, it had to be the Crown Prince. Rhiannon swallowed, looking at him, feeling about as pale as he looked and then glancing at his Uncle. The man considered her for a long moment and then sighed in what looked to be defeat. "Very well," he replied then whistled to some guards close by. "Fetch a cart from one of the merchants with the promise we shall return it as soon as his highness is returned home safely," he ordered. As the soldier went off to do his bidding, Rhiannion looked at Vincent and grabbed his shoulder. "Sit down before you collapse," she ordered. Even if he was the prince, she certainly would not stop treating him the way he had. His uncle seemed shocked at her ordering the young man about but said nothing. Her fingers were shaking as she adjusted the cloak on Vincent's shoulder, making sure he saw her look of betrayal before turning away. Winter would be alright for a day or two but she would certainly need to be returning by tomorrow morning to the village. The longer she stayed in that castle, the more apt her secret was to be found out.

As the cart pulled around, his uncle helped him onto the bench and then he helped her up as well though it seemed to be begrudgingly. "Can you handle a cart and horse?" he asked her and Rhiannon gave a solemn nod before taking the reins and then waiting until he was headed to his own horse before speaking. "You lied to me," she whispered softly, casting a glance at him and swallowing before looking forward, urging the horse into a gentle trot behind the man who was his uncle, realizing they were now flanked on all sides by guards on horseback. The tension within her, she was sure was almost palatable and her knuckles were white as they gripped the reins of the horse pulling the small cart toward the palace that was not to terribly far away but further than he needed to be walking.
 
Vincent turned to her once she grabbed his shoulder. He noticed the worried look in her eyes, and saw the trembling in her fingers as she adjusted his cloak. What was she afraid of? It wasn't as if she had anything to hide. He found himself unable to protest to her order to sit down, despite his surprise that she was still so forward with him after learning who he was. As the cart was brought to him, he sat next to her as his uncle handed her the reins.

"What was I supposed to tell you? I didn't know who you were. Besides, would you believe a random stranger who told you that he was a crown prince?" he retorted to her comment as the city guard filed in around them being led through the city streets by his uncle.

It wasn't long before their party entered the gates to the castle. The usual hustle of servants and stablehands working was briefly interrupted upon their arrival. Squires and pages who were previously striking the pell with practice swords or tilting against the quintain halted their training. Their prince was back from the dead. Some were thrilled and excited, whilst some of the other squires scowled in chagrin that a tough competitor would still be training with them. None however took as much notice of Vincent's return than the royal advisor Percival of Warwick. Eyeing him from the window of his fourth story apartment, the glass of wine he was previously nursing shattered in his fingers, his angry scowl burning with hatred as red dripped from his hand. Such was his fury that his face showed know sign from pain as wine mixed with blood to burn at the open wound in his palm.
 
Rhiannon swallowed. His point was valid but didn't ease her mind. As the guards stopped in front of the large entryway, she pulled the horse's reins to stop him and then lowered her eyes to her lap as everyone dismounted. His Uncle approached them and helped her down. She fixed her cloak over her homespun and watched as someone else helped Vincent down and then both of them were led into the castle. The great hall was filled with courtiers and guards watching as the both of them were led before the king. Her first glimpse of the man showed how similar in appearance he was to his son if only being twenty some odd years older. Fit and handsome, but a man that would kill her without hesitation for what she could do.

"My son!" A woman cried out. Much the same age as her husband, though the years had been kind to her. She descended from the throne by her husband and put her hands to Vincent's face. "We have been worried sick. You look so pale..." She glanced at his attire and then at Rhiannon before looking back at her child. "How do you feel?" She asked as guards took courtiers out, leaving the throne room empty save for the reunited family, Rhiannon and a few guards.
 
Vincent came down from the cart once they approached the large doors leading to the throne room, his uncle and the castle guards escorting them. It was only a few moments later that his mother flew off her throne to embrace him.

"I feel fine mother, although I was in terrible shape earlier" he said, parting slowly and telling her everything that happened. His father joined in their reunion listening with great interest..particularly everything having to do with Rhiannon. Percival was skulking behind the throne, damning her with every fibre of his being for rescuing him from almost certain death.

"Well, what did I tell you about heading off on your own like that?!? You could've gotten yourself killed!" his father said, slapping him harshly across the face.

"You know we've been getting reports of bandit activity in the woods. You could've gone with a few squires at least, or even better with an escort of knights you fool. Do you expect to be able to fence your way out of every situation?" he said sternly, before looking at his brother

"I blame you for this as well Albrecht. You're the master of arms, and are responsible for him. Its a good thing he learned a thing or two, or he would've come back a corpse" the king growled before returning to the throne.
 
Rhiannon gasped in shock as the man slapped his son and then watched him return to the throne to sink down. Swallowing, the man Alrbecht clenched his jaw before inclining his head. "You are right of course, Majesty. The woman here has done well in ensuring your son is returned well and in one piece," he said and Rhiannon felt the attention turn sharply to her. She lowered her gaze and put her hands together, her fingers twisting nervously together. A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped, looking up to see the Queen. Her gaze was kindly and it was almost a comfort.

"You are a remarkable young woman," the Queen said with a smile. "We owe you much for our son's health. Name anything and you shall have it. I'm sure my husband would agree," she said, glancing at the man before looking back at Rhiannon.

Rhiannon shook her head and then looked down. "I want for nothing Your Majesty," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. God help her but she needed to leave this room.

"Surely you don't mean that...Why if your healing skills and knowledge of herbs are so great, you might even stay on at court and be a healer for us. You would be paid handsomely of course, given your own chambers...and beautiful clothes...access to whatever herbs you need to heal those that are sick...Actually, that is not a bad idea. My dear husband, were you not just saying how we were in need of a new healer for the court. This young woman has helped our son...should she not become our royal healer? A fine honor indeed and her skills are certainly noteworthy..." she smiled and turned to her husband to seek his opinion.

Rhiannon looked up with wide eyes. "Your Majesty....please. I'm certainly not w-worthy of such a position...I'm just a peasant...I..."

"I insist upon it young woman..." the Queen said glancing at her then at her husband. "And do you husband, see my point?" she asked walking to the adjoining throne and sinking down, placing her hand over his. "She could continue to aid our son and stay on at court, and even help those at our court in need of a healer's touch."

Rhiannon paled and looked down, closing her eyes, fearing that the man may indeed say yes and then what would become of her? If she denied so much, he might become suspicious and she would draw even more attention upon herself.
 
"I'm sure she'd be quite at home here. The practice of her craft will benefit many at court. Training injuries are very common amongst the squires, so it would be great to have someone who can set bones" Vincent said.

"You can do a lot of good here Rhiannon. What say you?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

It was at that moment that Percival chose to speak. Stepping from behind the throne, he sauntered towards the trio in that slimy way of his, regarding her with a weasel like suspicion.

"It seems that you are quite gifted in the healing arts...but how is it that you lived in the same forest as the bandits who attacked our beloved prince without getting harassed?" he asked, circling around her like a vulture around a fresh kill.

"Yes, I was indeed wondering that myself. Vincent says he was attacked by at least ten men, and we've been getting reports of higher bandit activity in the area. How have you been able to live there?" the king asked from his throne.

"Well go on dear, tell us...was it a matter of paying protection, or did you simply let them have you in exchange for letting you live on that spit of land?" Percival asked with an evil smile.

Vincent came between the two of them, paralyzing the spineless courtier with a cold and angry glance.

"She was located on the opposite bank from where I was attacked. Any bandits would have to circle around for miles to get to it. Seems like a lot of effort for one cottage don't you think? Or have your wits left you?" he said in her defense, regretting that he didn't have a blade to threaten him with.

"Hold your tongue fool. Let her answer for herself" the king replied
 
Rhiannon watched the man step from behind the throne and begin to question her, even going so far as to calling her some sort of whore. Her eyes narrowed at the impression. Not for the first time was she being called a whore this day and it was increasingly annoying. As Vincent came to her defense, she nearly smiled but then the king was bellowing and she felt herself a bit more nervous. Her gaze turned to the King. Buck up lass, she told herself and then walked forward. "As your son said, I lived on the opposing bank in a rather remote part of the woods. It takes two days of travel to even reach the nearest village. Another four days in the opposite direction to reach that village." She took a deep breath. "Your courtier, calling me no better than a whore does not sit well with me for I would never reduce myself to selling my body for protection. And why in heaven would I aid a man nearly killed by bandits if I was in alliance with them?" she asked giving a glance at the sorry bastard who had insulted her.

"When I found his highness he was quite unwell and he still needs rest and to not be overwhelmed by physical or emotional exertion..." Rhiannon knew she was trapped. If she denied his request of becoming a healer for his court, she would be held in suspicion and if she did accept his request, then she would be watched like a hawk and her skills might be scrutinized. Rhiannon lifted her head, teetering on the edge of a double edged sword. "As to your offer...if it please the King...I...I will stay on as a healer though...I have a white wolf for a pet. She is quite a good animal and doesn't harm anyone. If I had but one request, it would be keeping her here with me. I humbly ask that Your Majesty allow me this one thing. She's as docile as a lamb. I swear it..."
 
"Why such impertinence from a wench so low born. And she has the gall to request to bring a wild wolf here! Your grace, I pray that you aren't even considering this" Percival exclaimed, surprised that one such as her would be so bold as to talk back to him. That would be something that would happen quite often so it seemed.

"As much as I'm open to your counsel, you will not speak unless spoken too" the king said to him, before turning back to Rhiannon.

"He has a point however...do you honestly expect me to consent to allowing a wild animal to be brought here?" he asked her

"I was under her care for three days, and I can vouch for what she had said. The wolf is a mighty creature, but well behaved" Vincent said

The king considered it for a moment, regarding Rhiannon with a long scrutinizing look.

"Very well I'll allow for saving my idiot son's life...however if that wolf attacks anything or anyone when it's here, I'll have it put down immediately. Understood?" the king asked
 
"Yes Your Majesty..." Rhiannon said and then sighed. "Thank you...I promise she won't attack anyone," she swore and then took a deep breath before looking at the man who had been hovering over her and then looking to the Prince. "If you will allow me your Majesty....His Highness needs his dressings changed and he needs rest..." she said then flushed. "If you will allow it of course.." she added and then glanced at Lord Percival with a hard stare before looking back down at her roughly sewn dress. She looked out of place in this world of rich fabrics and beautiful candelabras and polished tables and chairs. It was a far cry from her humble dwelling in the woods. A place she might not ever see again.

"You'll need a new wardrobe if you mean to remain at court," the Queen noted and then smiled kindly at the young woman. Rhiannon nodded and then lowered her gaze.

"Only if you wish it your majesty. I don't have any desire to bankrupt the treasury with a new wardrobe..." Rhiannon said and the woman smiled good naturedly.

"A gown or two would hardly bankrupt us my dear. If you are to live at court you shall need proper attire...And I do believe she is right my dear husband. Our son needs his rest after such an adventure..."
 
"I guess it is settled then. Tend to my son's wounds, than we shall discuss living arrangements. Perhaps later I'll summon the court tailor and have a few gowns made for you. You'd be ill suited to be dressed in rags in your service here" the king said.

As Vincent an Rhiannon left the throne room to be escorted to the prince's quarters, Percival could be seen scowling in dismay at all the recent developments. Even if the fools he hired to kill the prince bungled it all up, Vincent had more than a few arrows stuck in him, if the reports he was given were true. That should've killed a normal man. Who was this wench to be able to heal a man so close to death's door? He'd have to investigate into this. Perhaps some incriminating evidence could be found...or falsified. Drifting away from the audience chamber, the scheming courtier made his way to his room to hatch an entirely new scheme.

Meanwhile, Rhiannon and Vincent were escorted to his quarters. Upon opening the door, the were lead into his spacious apartment. Tapestries, paintings, and weapons adorned the walls. A table and a few seats were on the floor, and a large bed centered the room. A glass door opened to a balcony that overlooked the training yard, and two stain glass windows were mounted high into the wall, light of many hues and colors straining into the room. Having dispatched the guard to find those who tended the garden in order to procure the herbs Rhiannon required, the two were left alone.

"Would you care for some wine?" he asked, going to the table to pour himself a glass.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom