The Runaway Royals - Part Nine

Henry looked up along the road. He could see nothing. The drizzle that had begun over an hour ago had become a heavy storm, which was seriously slowing him down. The rain was stinging his face, making him keep his head down. When he did look up he could see nothing for the blackness caused by thunder clouds. The occasional flash of lightening did nothing but illuminate how deathly pale Danielle's perfect features now were.

He had followed the road, carrying the frail Danielle in his arms, for over an hour. He had not seen any signs of help, the last people he had seen had been their attackers. The only way he could tell his beloved Danielle was still alive was her shivering. He had covered her with his cloak, but it could not keep the cold water from seeping through to her. To feel her in his arms was usually the most wonderful sensation, but right now it was terrifying.

He was unable to think about anything. The sole focus of his thoughts was on getting help for his beloved. Protecting her was all he wanted to do. This was on his mind as he held her closer to him for warmth, as he slipped in the mud and made sure that he fell first, cushioning her fall.

As he kneeled in the mud, for a moment he could not get up, he was suddenly devoid of all physical strength. There and then he made a vow that his every waking moment would be spent in the pursuit of making her happy, of protecting her from harm. She was to be his whole life from now on.

As these thoughts raced through his head he looked up and noticed a glimmer of light in the distance. The fulfilment of his vow was to begin now. With renewed vigour, he lifted her up and as quickly as he could, negotiated the flooding road towards the light. As he neared it he felt hope, hope that his Danielle would be all right. He was able to make out a small farmhouse with a light in the window. A huge wave of relief swept over him and her practically ran to the door and banged on it. A young woman opened the door to them. She took one look at Henry and tried to slam the door in his face. This shocked the distraught Royal. He jammed his foot in the door.

"I beg of you, my wife is dying, we need help," Henry said, more begging than Regal.

"What happened, did somebody fight back when you tried to rob them. Gypsies aren't welcome here," and she slammed the door, this time successfully. Henry was too taken aback to stop her. Gypsies?

He looked down at his hands. They were dirty, rough and most importantly, ringless. Desperately he looked at Danielle's hand. Likewise hers was gone. The thieves must have taken them. How were they to get any help without their lifeline? Their garments were plain and unregal and even his commanding tone of voice had been surrendered to blind panic. Nobody would believe them to be the crown Prince and Princess, so they would have to try and appeal to somebody's good nature. Henry knew he wasn't going to get any help here. He had to try the next farm. He HAD to get help. Suddenly that optimism he had felt on seeing a light was disappearing.

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Two hours and four farms down the road and Henry was still unable to get any help. He had no idea that the people of France could be so prejudiced. It made him feel ill to think that Danielle might die due to the bigotry of those people who are supposed to look up to her for guidance. He was now beginning to fear that it might be getting too late. Her shivering was decreasing. As each moment passed there were fewer signs of life in her.

It was now pitch black. The thick black thunder clouds completely obscured the moonlight, which on this night would have been invaluable. The darkness completely managed to hide a Chateau until they were right on top of it. If Henry had not been looking he would have missed the gates which opened onto the back of the building. He had nothing to lose. He pushed them open and wearily made his was to the imposing stone castle which was still half a mile away.

Henry knew this castle as the seat of the Duc de Bordeaux. He remembered the Duke as a kindly old gentleman, somebody who had liked a lot at a time when his arrogance made him look down on everybody. but it was many years since he had seen him. Surely he would not recognise Henry now. He had changed beyond all recognition in the twelve years since the Duke left court for the last time. Henry just had to pray that somebody in the household would help. This was surely his last chance.

As Henry crossed the elegant lawns, ruining them with his heavy boots, he was mumbling a prayer. He prayed that God would forgive him his past sins and would not seek to punish him in this way. He promised to live a life of purity and devotion in the future if only Danielle's life would be spared.

He secured his right hand around Danielle while pounding violently on the heavy oak door with his left. Eventually the door was opened and a rather formal looking attendant stood there looking at the bedraggled Henry, holding the lifeless looking Danielle.

"Please sir help us," Henry pleaded. "My wife is injured, she needs help or I fear she will die. I have searched for help for hours, without any success. Please you are my last chance."

The man sneered at them. "The Duke is not in the habit of taking in your kind. You'll find no pity here. Go and try your tricks on some fool, who knows no better." In blind frustration Henry paid no attention to him and barged past him into thewarmth of the castle servants quarters entrance. "Somebody help us!" Henry cried out. He wanted to alert anybody to their presence in the chateau. Maybe somebody else would take pity.

"We have our own guards here," the pompous attendant ranted. "If you don't leave now I shall be forced to call them." Henry felt like punching the snivelling wretch, but that would have meant letting go of Danielle, something he was not too keen to do.

"Somebody please help me," Henry desperately called. "please help me," his voice was now becoming a whisper. Desperation was taking him over. Then suddenly an upper door flew open. Henry looked up and through blurry eyes he could just make out the figure of a well dressed man. He was walking with a cane and was quite obviously elderly.

"Pascal what is going on down there?" a commanding voice demanded.

"Nothing your Grace, these people burst into the castle, but I am getting rid of..." Henry cut him off abruptly.

"Your Grace, please help me. We were attacked and my wife thrown from her horse. She's dying. She needs help." He was now pleading.

"Pascal don't just stand there send somebody for the physician. Bring her upstairs quickly." He disappeared back through the door and Henry quickly mounted the stairs and followed him into the Regal splendour of the main body of the Chateau. He was too busy to look back at Pascal but he could imagine his face.

"Celine, come with me," the Duke barked. "Bring some other maids to attend to the lady. And have Louis prepare a bath for the gentleman." Henry just obediently followed into a sumptuously decorated room and gently laid Danielle down on the bed. Maids began fussing about her, with water to clean her wounds. Henry was silent. The urgency of the women served to emphasise the severity of the situation. The Duke could see the pathetic look on his face. He placed a sympathetic arm around Henry. "Come my boy, you need to rest yourself."

"No I have to stay with her."

"You have to let them attend her. They can not do their job properly with you in the way." Henry weakly muttered something in agreement. He was too weary to put up any sort of resistance and he knew that the Duke was right.

As he walked out of the room he noticed his reflection in a large mirror. His clothes were muddy and torn, his face had a day old beard and was slightly browned from the summer son. His hair was dirty and the dark locks fell across his eyes. No wonder those people took him for a gypsy. But did people really hate gypsies THAT much?

He was shown to another room, next to Danielle's. A man servant was laying out fresh clothes and a fire was burning, heating kettles of water for a bath. It reminded him of his own rooms at the palace. The rich tapestries and expensive furnishings oozed wealth.

"Do not worry about your wife," the Duke said. "I have sent for my physician, he won't be long. He saved my own dear wife after a fall, he will do the same for yours I am sure." Henry simply nodded in response. The Duke sensed his need to be alone and so left, taking the manservant with him.

Henry sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. How could he have been so stupid as to put Danielle at such risk? He deserved to be punished for what he had done. But to lose Danielle, would be to lose his life. That would go beyond punishment it would be hellish torture, something he surely would not be able to withstand. He got down on his knees and began to pray.

"Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women. Please Lord if thou must punish me, do not do it in this way. In a way that would rob this world of its brightest star. I will offer penance in any way, take me, but I beg of you to spare her. She is my life and she will make of this world a paradise for thine children on Earth, she is one of the purest and most devoted followers of thy creed and will serve thou well if only she is allowed to. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen"

He then stood up and moved over to the door. He silently stepped out and took a seat

outside Danielle's room. He intended to be as close to her as possible when she

awoke and she was going to wake up for him. Whether in this world or the next, they would be together.