The Runaway Royals - Part Fourteen
"Your Highness," Steven called, spying the Prince riding ahead of his. He had been travelling at a dangerously fast pace on this unsteady road in an attempt to catch the rogue royal.
Henry, on hearing Lord Grey's voice, slowed down. He had no desire to see anybody, but if he had come after him, he must have something important to relate. Perhaps the Doctor was wrong and Danielle had awoken. Perhaps she had died. Henry's first reaction had been to go faster and avoid anything that might cause him additional suffering, but reason got the better of him. He knew that he had to hear the truth.
When Steven saw the Prince stop, he slowed his horse and gently rode up to him. He did not want to frighten the barb he was riding. For another riding accident to befall this stretch of road would be a tragedy.
"What is it Lord Grey?" Henry said anxiously. "Is it Danielle?" Steven could see the intensity of his worry etched on his face. He felt he had to quickly settle his mind.
"No milord, the Princess is much the same as she has been this past day."
"Then what are you doing here? Who guards Danielle?"
"Your Highness, the Duke de Bordeaux has placed one of his best guards in the post. I am sent by Lady Hélène to ask you to return to the castle."
"Absolutely not, I must continue my course."
"Your Highness I know where you are going and I must advise against it. You must realise you face many men who have no regard for your position. You would have almost no chance of escaping a confrontation alive."
"Lord Grey, you are a guard and a foreigner, please do not presume to advise a Prince of France against a course he is already set on." Steven was taken aback by this. He had known the Prince to be snappy before, but never outright rude. He was only now beginning to see the Prince Henry his servants had told him stories of during his seclusion. This was the arrogant, churlish man whose unfortunate reputation had come to his attention. He was suddenly in two minds as to which was the real Prince Henry.
"I will not be stopped. You can either turn back to the chateau or come with me to help avenge Danielle. I cannot pretend that your help would not be of great value, but whatever you decide on, I will not be deterred. Henry spurred his horse on, leaving Steven standing in his wake. No upstart Englishman was going to prevent him from doing his duty. He had an obligation to honour the memory of his love by avenging her wasteful death.
As he watched the Prince disappear, Steven did not know what to do. His one duty this past month had been to safeguard the Princess, now he had failed in that once, should he further neglect his duty to follow this foolish man into a certain death situation? But then a vision of Hélène came into his head. Tears ravaging her ivory skin, pleading with him to retrieve the Prince. He could not go against what she wanted him to do, duty or no duty. He dug his heels into his horse and followed Prince Henry.
When Henry saw that Lord Grey had chosen to assist him he had to admit to himself a sense of relief. Far more of them would suffer with an accomplished swordsman such as Steven involved in the fray. He said nothing though. They were riding to fast and he had to inclination to speak at all to him anyway. All his head would allow him were thoughts of his beautiful Danielle.
What would have happened had she not accosted him with those apples? Would Laurent still have caught him? Would he have avoided da Vinci? Would he be in Genoa with Hélène? He felt terrible at the way the last thought bothered him. Hélène was his best friend. To be with her should surely have been a privilege, but now he thought of it as a punishment. The fact was Danielle had become his whole life in that instant at the gypsy camp. At that point he knew that this was the lady he was supposed to be with forever. Had she not had the pluck to stop him in the orchard that morning he would have missed out on that.
Steven's thoughts at this moment were similarly engaged. The past few years in France had been difficult for him. His shame at his exile had kept him isolated from the rest of the world. He had foregone the pleasures of hunting for those of reading. Daily practice at swordplay and archery was now replaced with painting and playing the harpsichord, pursuits that he had never thought much of when his mother had advocated them, but now offered welcome relief. Attending court, mingling with England's nobility had become sitting alone in his study, refusing admittance to his servants and pondering his losses. But now he was back in the society of agreeable people, doing something that was worthwhile. Surely he should be happy, not the confused mess he actually was. He may show to the world that he was still the man, seasoned in battle and just as cold in life, but that was just his outward appearance. The reality of his mind was different.
The thought that such a simple thing as an apple had changed his life was amusing yet disturbing. Had she been a bad shot and missed he would have been away with Hélène and wasting both of their lives. If she was not meant to be the love of his life, then surely he was not supposed to be hers. The one thing that Henry had come to believe in was soulmates. Everyone has a soulmate, and Danielle was his. But that lead to the question who was Hélène's. After more than fifteen years of putting up with Henry as a friend and nearly five as a lover, she deserved to find that one person who filled her heart with joy as Danielle did with him. The thought that there was somebody out there for her was comforting but did not help to alleviate the guilt that he felt over his treatment of her. He had been flattered by her devotion to him, but that had not stopped him from humiliating her with a string of nameless servants and facile courtiers. But he was too selfish to give up the convenience of having a mistress who would be there for him at the end of the day when he had been unable to procure somebody else for his amusement. Worse than this though was the thought that he had betrayed Danielle in some way. To her he had given his heart completely but it saddened him to think that he had not the gift of his body to bestow on her, it had already gone.
The French Kings shock at seeing the young Duke of Winchester begging for asylum in France, was almost as great as Steven's own shock in being sent away by his best friend. He was eighteen years old when His Supreme Majesty King Henry VIII of England had condemned him in front of the court and ordered him to leave England never to return. Henryís harsh punishment had appalled him. In the ten years that they had been friends they had never said so much as a cross word to each other. There was nothing on which they had disagreed, until now. The first real test of their friendship had been fatal to it. But the resentment had been there for several years. Steven inherited his estates at the age of eleven when Henry was a man of sixteen. Suddenly he was a man of property, something that Henry had yet to become. On his ascension to the throne, Henry finally felt the master of all, nobody was to better him. But Steven was now sixteen and had grown to be very handsome. The King was good looking but there was not a man in the nation as awe inspiring to look upon as Steven. The master of some of the most impressive estates in Europe and a hero in battle against the Scots nobody was as admired as him. But it all came to a head when Henry was twenty three and both he and Steven wanted something that only one could have. Invariably Henry got his way and Steven was forced to cross the Channel.
For almost a month now Henry had been able to forget most of his royal duties and concentrate solely on making Danielle happy. His main aim in life had been to give her everything she desired and to keep her safe. Since the Spanish royalty left the court Henry had experienced a period of unprecedented happiness. The young lovers had spent most of their time together, enjoying sunny afternoons in the grounds, hidden in the shade of an oak tree or nights behind the closed doors of their chambers. Henry could almost taste her soft lips after an evening of drinking champagne. During there month of marriage he had only heard her upset once during the crisis with Spain and when he heard her tears it made him want to die. The thought of really losing her was all too much to bear, which is why he now took the path he did.
Increasingly Steven now found himself thinking less about his own predicament. He was no longer regretting getting into that quarrel with Henry, he just did not consider it any longer. Now when he was alone he would inexplicably start thinking about Hélène. She truly was a fascinating creature. So ladylike so elegant yet so witty with insight, the likes of which he had never seen before. She was also excessively beautiful. Her soft features smooth and delicate, like a child's, her figure very striking and correct and her hair a thick mass of perfectly groomed ebony all made perfect with haunting yet sparkling grey eyes. She was perfection personified. He had first agreed to take this position in an attempt to find out what sort of woman it was who had married a Prince for love and not position, but it was not long before he realised that it was Hélène who had captured his imagination.
The two men had been riding for over an hour when they came to a place that Steven recognised. He slowed down. Henry followed suit. ìWhat is it Lord Grey?î Henry asked, somewhat irritated at having to stop.
"I believe we are close to the place where Hélène and I were ambushed last night. Just beyond the trees a little further up there is..."
"An old meat storage house, yes I know. I've been there before, Hélène and I stayed on one of my earlier runaway attempts." Steven did not like the way in which he spoke Hélène's name, it was supposed to be said in a gentle way not the abrasive manner in which the Prince had just spat it out. He also did not like the way it was his escape attempt. Hélène had gone with him so they could be together, she was not just tagging along. All in all the Prince was beginning to vex him greatly with his unfeeling attitude to a woman who quite clearly still feels a great deal for him despite the way in which he has treated everyone.
"Well if that is where they are based it is very likely that some are in there now. They would not all be out during the day when the chances of getting caught are greater." Henry just looked at the Duke, as much as he was loathe to admit it, he had a very good point. As many as ten of them could comfortably rest in there. Usually ten to two were not odds he favoured but at that moment he could not care less. "What do you propose to do Your Highness?"
"I think we should tether the horses some distance away for a start." Steven agreed and they both dismounted and tied the horses to trees a short distance back from the road. Henry stalked his way towards the meat house with little stealth. It was almost as if he wanted to be seen. Steven followed him though, he just assumed that the Prince would have a plan. But as the stone building came into view, it became obvious that this was not the case and before Steven could stop him Henry had drawn his sword and pushed the door open.
Inside there was a group of around seven men huddled over a hoard of gold and jewels, quite obviously from another raid. The man who both Henry and Steven recognised as the leader stood up abruptly,
"Not you two again, is there something we forgot to take?" Henry's blood began to boil at the casual mockery this man was throwing at him.
Steven looked around until he spied a man with a large gash on his face. It was not healing well. "I see she did a better job of defending herself than you thought she could," he said, almost laughing at the oversized gorilla of a man. This was obviously a sore point for the ridiculous goon who drew his sword and quickly moved towards him. Steven backed out of the door, knowing that he couldn't possibly fight inside that cramped hovel. Then the fight began. He was now making it his task to finish what Hélène had begun.
Henry was not really interested in the justice of his fight. What he wanted was revenge for Danielle and something a little bit more lasting for himself. He knew that the band leader would not stand by and let one of his victims get away a second time. He was not disappointed. His own fight spilled out into the woodland, where Lord Grey had already almost defeated one of them. Sure enough, Henry got out just in time to see Steven punch, possibly the largest man in the pack, and knock him out. This truly was a fighter of superior skill. But he was more interested in the fight at hand.
As Steven invited another man to join him in combat he looked over at the Prince. He knew him to be a superior swordsman, but he did not appear to making any sort of effort, it was as if he wanted to be defeated. Steven swiftly disposed of his second opponent just in time to see the Prince fall backwards to the ground. He was about to run across to aid him when he heard him shout.
"Just get it over with!" Henry cried. "Do it please." Everyone around him gasped. Was this man really asking what it seemed like he was asking?
"Your Highness," Steven called as he began to run over.
"No Lord Grey, stop." Steven did as he was told. "Don't you understand. I want him to kill me, I want to die. They have taken her already I see it fitting that this should be the way in which she is restored to me." Henry stood up and dropped his sword. He closed his eyes and began to silently recite the 'Ave Maria'.
Steven could not believe the scene that was happening right in front of his eyes. Was this really the Crown Prince of France asking to be killed? What ever it was, Steven knew that he had to stop it. As the man began to draw back his sword to deliver the death blow to his future King Steven, almost unconsciously ran in and pushed Henry away, taking the sword in his own arm as he did it.
As the blade went in he did nothing so undignified as cry out, instead he grunted and whipped around in anger to look at the man who had just wounded him. Using his good right arm, he brought around a mighty hook to send him into the same state of unconsciousness as he had sent his two colleagues already.
Now, no matter how crooked the gang may have been, they were not prepared to see their leader knocked out. They grouped together like a pack of wolves and descended on Steven. He felt that this time, there was no way out for him, until he heard a voice from behind him which made everyone stop dead in their tracks. "Halt in the name of His Supreme Majesty King Francis." Steven turned around to see a troop of the Royal guard had appeared as if out of nowhere.
The guard proceeded to capture and arrest everyone at the scene. Henry and Steven were recognised instantly. The rabble were thrown into the back of wagons and carted off back towards the palace. Henry and Steven retrieved their horses and were taken back to the chateaux, Steven in a considerable amount of pain.
'Four people set off on this wild goose chase down this road' Steven thought to himself. 'And all have been harmed apart from the very man who instigated it' At that moment his resentment against Henry was sealed and he knew that it would take a miracle for any good opinion he ever had of him to be restored.