I am just realising that my head is full of ideas on how this could go on!
Originally I thought, I would write one chapter, just to practise a bit, but then your reviews came so quickly that it somehow spurred me on to keep writing the second chapter. And since, the first one was not as detailed as I usually write, I wanted to make good with this second chapter tonight!
I had fun writing this!
And I still don't know how long this whole thing is going to be, but I am thinking, about working Greer and Leith into the story...
Enjoy reading!
And thank you so much for your reviews and follows!=)
(Sorry, for any spelling mistake!)
"Shush now or you will chase him away!"
The deer sniffed at some logs on the ground while it stalked through the dense forest. The fur was a deep brown that looked like velvet in the few sun rays that broke through the leaves above.
The men watched the animal silently from out of their hiding place.
It kept stalking through the forest with its long thin legs.
Thanks to the men's experience they knew that the animal would not notice them if they stayed clear off the direction into which the wind was blowing. As long as it would not sniff their scent, they would be able to get as close as their bows could easily reach.
Bash breathed calmly. His chest heaving slowly with every breath he took.
He had always thought that deer had rather something fragile than majestic and he wondered how the title 'King of the Forest' fit it.
He surmised that it fit it just like his title fit him: 'Master of Horse and Hunt'.
As if someone had thought it funny to call an animal that could hardly defend itself, besides of running like the wind, a 'King'.
He shook the thoughts off and tried to concentrate again on the one thing that brought him some kind of satisfaction these days, the hunt.
He raised his bow and stretched the bowstring. His mouth rested next to his hand and he breathed evenly without letting the animal out of his sight.
The deer raised his head and looked around as if he sensed something.
Bash waited.
The animal's ears searched for a sound, but it didn't seem to hear anything, however it got nervous. Its whole body went rigid and all the muscles tensed.
Something fast cut through the air then and the animal collapsed onto the ground.
There was a long arrow protruding out of its chest.
And while a small line of blood oozed out of the soft fur someone cheered and patted Bash's shoulder.
"Well, done my friend! Straight into the chest!"
"I must say, bloody hell, that was something you do not see every day!" Said another, but Bash shook his head.
He walked out of the bushes towards his prey and ignored his fellow hunters. He couldn't care less about their praise. He had landed a good shot, nothing more. It might have been luck.
Though he didn't feel like he had been lucky lately.
He looked up at the sky, because he had felt a rain drop landing on his forehead.
"Come on, let's get the poor thing into the hut before the rain comes!" Said one and grabbed the hind legs of the dead deer.
Bash nodded and grabbed the other side.
The meat tasted like the wild forest.
It had captured nature's finest senses and was a blessing after days without food and hours of fruitless hunts.
The men ate like hungry men did, without manners or care.
One of them, Jean, threw the bones into the fire and sighed satisfied.
"That was a meal worth a King!"
Another mimicked him and nodded. "Since we have the King's bastard at our side, it is the least we deserved." He laughed and the others did as well.
Bash just grimaced.
He wished they had not recognized him, but one had unfortunately heard his name before and there were not many Bash's around.
"Why so gloomy, Prince?" Pierre mocked. "You are the reason we won't go hungry tonight!"
The others grinned.
And Bash wondered once again how he had ended up with these outlaws!
He had run into them weeks ago and out of a reason he didn't know he had kept them company.
Maybe because he felt like an outlaw himself. He felt out of place with nowhere to go.
While the other men mocked him and made their dirty jokes he knew that he didn't belong, but he didn't know where to go either, so he stayed.
"How 'bout a trip to the village?" One asked and raised his eyebrows with a dirty smirk on his lips.
Bash suppressed to role his eyes.
"The tavern was quite cosy last time!"
"I wonder if the red one is still there!"
The men bellowed.
"The red one was as ugly as a scarecrow!"
"And she was just as old!"
"But the red ones are more exciting!"
"They are the devils witches!"
"Think they bewitched our bastard here?" Jean yelled.
"Someone obviously did! You should really come along this time, mate!"
"Would be nice not to look into your grumpy face for a chance!" Pierre agreed. "Come on, you'll feel much better!"
Bash shook his head and declined the offer.
"Gentlemen, the Prince does not care about village whores, he was born a royal, the only one he will mount will be a Princess!" There was the laughter again as the men stood up to walk away.
"Take care that the fire won't extinct, Prince!" Someone called before they disappeared into the forest.
Bash let out a relieved breath and leaned back against a tree.
Finally! Alone!
Though he knew that the satisfaction would not last.
When he was with the men he longed to be alone, but when they were gone he felt the loneliness suffocating him.
He grabbed his hunting knife and a stick that lay next to him and started to make an arrow out of it. It was always something that kept him busy.
But not busy enough to stop thinking.
He wanted to scream and punch, but he was not the type for violence. The hunt had become his outlet for his penned up feelings.
And every night he prayed for a dreamless sleep, because while he could run away from his feelings, he could not run away from his dreams. They followed him everywhere and tortured him with wishes that were long lost.
He wondered what would have become of him if his life had been different.
Maybe he would not be here now, if the King had legitimised him and thus put him into the succession of the throne. He would have been a wealthy man.
No nobody.
However, great power came with great responsibility and Bash doubted that he would ever have been that responsible man to rule a country. Even if the King had claimed him as his own, he would not have wanted the throne.
When he had been close, because Mary had wanted to save his life by marrying him, he had always prayed that there was an escape. He had secretly prayed that someone would lift him of his burden.
And his prayers had been heard.
He had been able to slip out of the way that led towards the throne and crown. Though it had cost him Mary, he had never wanted a crown.
Cruel enough he had found something that he really had wanted. For the first time in his life he had really wanted something.
He had always been satisfied with what he had.
He was alive and well!
Wasn't that enough!?
For a while it had been.
For a while he had tasted a paradise he had not cherished enough, but he only realised that now. He had not done everything in his power to keep it! He could have done better, he should have done better!
Sebastian de Poitiers cursed and threw the knife into the earth in front of him where the blade cut deep into the mud. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.
