The Boy and His Horse

“It took three days of running before we found you,” my uncle said, dismounting his steed, “But you leave a fairly obvious trail at times.”

“So you had my aid sell me out?” I said, dismounting and walking towards him.

“Oh, he sold out the day after your father died. And not due to pressure like he told you. That was a beautiful speech by the way, I had him prepare it while we searched for you.”

He walked further forward, again standing above me. “I am sure you assumed we were dead.”

“More like hoped,” I spat back, feeling hopeless. My wit would only delay the inevitable�"my death.

“The fire started towards the city gates, and worked back towards the palace. By that time, we were already gone. All of your precious rebels died, and so did most of the citizens.”

I winced, feeling grief wash over me. “Rot in hell, you bloody arse!” I growled.

He laughed at the remark. “You are in no position to make such an attack. As it stands now, you are at the end of your rope.”

He drew his dagger, letting the glistening blade gleam before my eyes. “Any last requests?”

“I make no requests of a bloody tyrant.”

“Then you will die,” he said, lifting the blade high in the air. I closed my eyes, waiting for the cold metal to slash through my flesh.

Just then I heard something whiz by my head. I opened my eyes to see my uncle falling to the ground from a single arrow to the shoulder. All of his guards stood at attention, looking around for whoever fired the shot.

I turned to see a figure in all black, trousers and shirt, engaging the guards. His moves were almost a blur, as he brandished a sword and quickly decapitated the first two guards. Within seconds, the other four were dead and lying in blood and gore, along with their still writhing horses, who were also killed.

The figure, a teenage boy about my age with black hair and olive eyes, then held the dripping sword to my uncle’s neck, “Behold King William, the Lionheart.”

He then kicked my uncle in the face, rendering him unconscious.

He climbed onto the horse I was given by Jhanili, then extended a hand to pull me up.

“How do I know you aren’t one of them?” I asked.

He pointed to the carnage. “Would I do that to one of my own? For a Prince you are awful paranoid. My name is Damien, and I was sent to rescue you. And if you don’t get your arse on this horse, I will have to do it all over again.”

Reluctantly, I climbed onto the horse. “You better not be leading me into another trap,” I said.

Damien scoffed. “That’s the least of your worries. Your uncle is going to wake up eventually, and when he does he will want revenge on you and I. He will unify with the East Region, and it will be a bloody hell for everyone in the known land.”

With a crack of the reigns, we sped off.