Chapter 11 – Courage of Heart
Author's Notes:
It's offical. WE HATE THE KING... ! I can see the lynching crowds from here. Trust me.. I agree... but he isn't going anywhere for a while. BUT...isn't it fun to hate him so.
This chapter moves on in time. Edward is almost 22, and B (which we don't see yet) is 17. (so we are getting close...)
Hold on... and I will see you at the end.
It had been years since that fateful night with the whip, yet my mind replayed the events like it was yesterday. I knew when I returned to my room and saw her blooded body, that my life was forever changed. It was time for me to grow up, and stand up for what I believed in, not what was forced upon me. I needed to become the man I wanted to be, not the puppet my father wanted to mold.
My first decisive action was to take care of the girl I had so wrongly abused. Seeing the scars on her back would forever remind me of what type of monster I had almost become. It would have been so easy to slip into that role, but I instead chose to create my own path in hopes that I could become something better than the man that I once called father.
I let down the boundaries that were inflicted upon me by my family name; I began to see the King in a new light. I was not the only one that harbored ill thoughts of our sovereign.
I had always noticed how my father's strict ways seemed to push even his closest advisers to the background. He trusted no one, and it made me see that others did not trust him either. He rarely took the advice of others, and on the rare chance that someone had the nerve to stand up to him, my father made sure that man never made the mistake twice. We had lost more than a dozen of our own men to my father's blade, in war you can't afford to do that over a small disagreement. He made poor decisions.
I began to spend more time with my men, and less time in my royal quarters. Before I had felt alone like a man on an island. Soon, I earned the loyalty and friendship of my men. After being in their company for some time and learning their ways, I would say there were even a handful of soldiers I would call friends. My captain, Jasper, was one of those men. It was he who helped me all those nights ago when I was at my lowest, and it was his words that helped me move beyond my upbringing to see the world from another's point of view.
That night, I almost couldn't stand to go back to my tent. The nameless girl was there, and I couldn't face what I had done. Jasper was standing guard outside my door when I passed by with no intention of stopping.
"My Prince? May I have a word?" I respected this man on the battlefield and had seen his loyalty to me on more than one occasion, so the fact that he wanted to speak to me made me stop in my tracks. I nodded and he continued.
"What happened tonight was wrong. I can see in your eyes that your actions will plague you, and it is because of this I risk giving you this advice." Most would never dared to question a prince, but Jasper stood strong and looked me right in the eye.
"It's time to move forward. There are many that will stand with you, but this barbaric behavior will not stand the test of time. People don't want to live in the shadow of fear that your father has covered them. It's time for a change, and I pray that you, My Prince, will take what you did tonight and learn from it. Become the man you were meant to be, and lead your people with an honorable hand."
Slowly I began to understand that these men fought for our freedom, not because they feared our Kings wrath, but they believed that by standing up against the evils of the world they were protecting their homeland and their families. These men I called friends did not agree with the poor treatment of the women and the wounded of our enemies. They taught me that there were innocents in this war that needed our protection, and by showing mercy we grew as a Kingdom.
My first act of mercy was to the young girl I had hurt. Although I heard her prayers at night, she never spoke directly to me. Once she was well enough, I couldn't bring myself to let her go. I wanted to give her a better life than what awaited her after she left me. I brought her the freshest food, the best clothing, and the softest bed. I allowed her freedom to do what she wanted in the confines of my room. She was a quite little thing, and most of the time I forgot she was there, but I always spoke to her.
If she could understand me or not, I was never sure, but I didn't really care. It was just nice to have someone to talk with. I would pour out all of the horrors the war I had seen. I often cried about the brutality I had witnessed. It never got any easier, but I found that when I talked about it, I could sometimes forget long enough to sleep. I also talked to her about my father and his cruelty to others. I begged for her forgiveness for hurting her so deeply because I wasn't strong enough to stand up to him.
Finally, and most often, I talked to her about B. She was on my mind all the time. I spoke about our childhood together, and laughed about our adventures in the woods. I cried when I talked about my failure to protect my Little Bella. Sometimes I would scream at the injustice of what she had to endure because of my weakness. The girl would flinch at my outbursts, but she would look at me with kind eyes as if she understood my need to get out my frustrations.
It was the purging of my soul, that I needed to stay sane, and this small, silent girl helped to bring my thoughts into clarity.
She never spoke to me, but I believe that she became comfortable around me and sometimes Jasper when he would come into my quarters. No one else came into direct contact with her, and she seemed to like it that way. She began to clean up after me, although I never requested her to do anything. I think my slovenly ways got on her nerves. Once, when I had returned from battle, I had taken off my dirty boots and clothes and left them on a pile in the middle of the floor. I saw her huff and roll her eyes, as she picked them up and moved them to the side of the room. I smiled as I lay in bed, but I knew when I woke up the boots and the clothes would be clean.
That was the last night I ever brought in dirty clothes. I didn't want her to feel like she had to clean up after me. If it made her feel good to clean up a bit and make some dinner for us, that was a different story. However, it was important for it to be her choice, and I told her that on many occasions.
We developed a routine, and life became more comfortable. Even though my father taunted me relentlessly, I never took a woman by force again. When it came time to disperse the spoils of our conquest, I let my men take what they wanted with the directive that no woman would be mistreated by any loyal to me. Jasper was my enforcer and seemed to take a special interest in any man that hurt women or children.
I heard rumors of the nightmarish conditions that my father treated slaves that were forced to go to him. We tried to save as many as possible, but that wasn't always possible. Each lost soul reminded me of how I had failed to protect my Bella.
We had been gone for almost six years, and I was turning twenty-two years old when the last of the strongholds fell. It was a joyous occasion for all of my men, and we celebrated late into the night.
As I sat with my men, I overheard talk of returning to families. They were proud to return home to the warm beds of their women. Although I was happy for them all, the thought of returning home only depressed me.
Jasper saw the change in my mood and came over to me with a fresh goblet of ale. "What's got your nuts in a twist, my prince? You look as if you thirst for more blood on the battlefield. Are you not happy that we are returning to our homeland?"
I sat back in my chair and took a drive of the ale he offered. "Yes, Jasper. I am happy to see my men in good spirits, and I wish them all good tidings when we return. They have earned it."
Jasper looked around the room again, and then placed a hand on my arm. "If that's the case, why do you look as if someone just stole your favorite toy? Are you having second thoughts about your little B?"
I eyed him warily; Jasper was one of the only people that knew about my fondness for my slave. On many nights he would sit in my counsel as I discussed our relationship. "No, I am still anxious to see her and know that she is doing well, but she will be 17 now. My father will demand the ceremony. My heart lies heavy in my chest with the thought of our reunion."
"As we have spoken before, you have men that will support you. We will all be at your ready when the need to fight comes to be." Jasper stood and placed a fist to his heart, "On my honor, you will have your heart again."
I stood to meet his height and said, "Your pledge feels my heart with joy, but I cannot in good faith have you or my men draw swords against your King. I will not watch as you throw away your life and the love of your family so that I can have mine. You are a good man, my Captain, and I am honored to call you a friend."
We embraced briefly and he whispered in my ear, "You are our friend, and the only true King I have ever known. Your men will follow you."
For a brief second, I caught a glimpse of our future. A future where honorable men ruled the land, but a future too far away to even dream about.
Our moment was cut short by the words of the King, "Ready your tents, for tomorrow we go home."
Shouts and yells of approval rose from the crowd of our armies. Ale and women were passed around for all. In the mist of the celebration, my men and I returned to our tents to prepare for tomorrow. We had much to discuss, and only a few hours to prepare.
At long last, even the night's moon had set behind the horizon, when I returned to my tent and my captive. She appeared to be asleep, but I spoke to her anyway.
"Tomorrow we will leave. I will find you a safe home where you will learn to love again. My only hope is that I will be around long enough to see you smile."
Much to my surprise, she turned to me with a mischievous grin on her face. "If that be the case, I will be asking for your Jasper."
To say I was stunned is the understatement of the year. I believed all this time that she couldn't talk, not that she had chosen not to.
As I shook my head with my mouth open, she continued. "And you can call me Alice, my King."
End Notes:
Did any of you see it coming? There is still a long way to go for our couple. It's not going to be easy, but at least there is hope.
Thanks for all the great reviews! See you soon.
This should give all of you a little ... very small...bit of hope. (Hey.. at least he has friends.)
Next chapter... B returns. Show me some love, and you will hear from her sooner. HAHAHA.. (I'm not really holding it hostage for reviews... but it does help me write faster.)
Love you ALL... Thanks to you ALL for so many wonderful reviews... and for sticking with the story even though it scares you a little. TRUST...I promise we will make it.
