Title: A Thousand Miles

Author: ButteR

Chapter: Eight - Escape into Exile

Disclaimer: I don't know, I just like writing the word 'disclaimer'. Um, I own Marcus, Mitch, Jon, Charles, and Richard. That's about it I think, well from this chapter anyway.

A/N: hey! Back again! I hope you like this chapter I tried to make it extra exciting and interesting. Sorry if some find it a little violent, it's got a bit of fighting in it, but it isn't that bad. And sorry that I took so long, but I hope you like this chapter! Thanks for all your reviews!!! I really appreciate them. Oh yeah, and I've changed my email so check my profile if you want to email me to ask about the fic or something. Whatever suits. R/r please, I love your feedback you're all so nice! ^.^ -ButteR

Escape into Exile

The walk back to the room where the crown jewels had been held was awkward and uncomfortable. Tristan had been obligated to lead Rory by knifepoint, while just a few footsteps behind; Mitch's life was on the brink of annihilation if Marcus happened to so much as 'slip'. The guards surrounded them, their dangerous presence adding to the aura of discomfort, and presence of the king's mother, walking smartly in front of Rory with a permanent smirk fixed on her face, just added to the strangeness of the situation, since she barely let her hawk-like eyes leave Tristan and Rory.

Rory felt tears well up in her eyes. The feeling of adrenaline was all but gone, leaving her tired and frustrated, and that weird, floating feeling that she got from dancing with the King now seemed like a dream that she had woken up from, to find that she was in a world enclosed in fear. Rory's thoughts slowly shifted to Jess, Charles, Jon and Richard. She wondered if they were going to be killed. Just the thought of Jess lying lifeless on the ground made her shudder involuntary. I'll just make them kill me, if they have to kill anyone, Rory thought to herself. I don't mind dying. At least I could be with my mom…

But Rory knew that it was a lie. Although Rory wanted nothing more than to be with her mom, she now had something worth living for. She had found something worth fighting for. Sookie and Jackson alone were a good enough reason to try to stay alive, but she actually had something worth defending- her friends. She wasn't going to give up her life just like that. She was going to fight with everything she had. Her knew resolution hardened her, although she still felt nervous.

Marcus pushed his way past Rory and Tristan, sword still pressed against Mitch's chest. Violently kicking the door opened, Rory let out a small gasp as she saw her friends inside. Charles was lying on the floor in an unhealthy manner, facedown, his arm twisted painfully at a strange angle behind his back. Jon was still knocked out, and now purple and blue bruises ran across both temples. Richard had blood pouring out of a large gash in his side; he was doubled over in defeat. But worst of all was Jess. Jess was sitting against a wall, dry blood all over his face. His arms lay limply at his sides. His eyes were open, but portrayed only the slightest glimmer of recognition as he caught sight of Rory. The king's guard were standing dutifully around the room, but the blood on their fists and on their swords was the telltale sign that they had been the ones who had inflicted the awful pain on Rory's friends. All at once her anger flared up again, but she didn't have either the will or the physical strength or both to let it out. All she could do was glare with her eyes.

Marcus released Mitch from knifepoint, and thrust him against a wall. Mitch hit the wall head first, and groaned with pain. Rory felt her body tense up, ready to shout out, but Tristan suddenly gripped Rory's arm. She glared daggers at him.

"Don't make me hurt you," he whispered, his lips almost not moving, and his eyes pleading. It took every ounce of self-control that she had not to whip out and lash her vicious words at the King, but she bit her tongue and remained silent.

Marcus appeared to be deep in thought. Glancing at Rory thoughtfully, with an evil glimmer in his eyes, he motioned Tristan to let go of her. He obliged, a little unwillingly, Rory thought. "Go join your vermin friends," Marcus snarled in her direction, and Rory hurried over to Jess, trying to see if he was okay.

Marcus watched Rory's feeble attempts at getting Jess to respond, but when Jess just stared at her numbly, Marcus let out something which Rory interpreted as a laugh. She ignored him and shook Jess' hand a little despairingly.

"Jess!" she whispered, and her voice quivered as she felt a small tear slide down her cheek. "Jess, are you okay?"

Richard painstakingly limped over to where Rory was crouched over Jess, leaving a trail of blood from the wound in his side. Grimacing, he somehow managed to put a reassuring hand on Rory's shoulder, though it stained her lovely gown with blood. Rory didn't care. Turning around, her gaze met Richard's, and she fell into his firm, comforting, reassuring embrace, like the way one would find comfort in the presence of their father or older brother. She dissolved into tears, and Richard gently stroked her hair, comforting her like he would comfort a small child.

"Jess will be all right," he murmured in her ear. "I'm sure of it."

Rory stopped crying immediately and looked sharply up at Richard, her eyes rimmed with red and her cheeks wet. Wiping away her tears, she was struck by a sudden suspicion. Was Jess just feigning? Rory struggled to overcome a sudden desire to slap Jess across the face just to make sure. Her suspicions were confirmed when Richard winked at her and grinned, and she caught a quick mischievous glint in his eye. Hiding her own grin by once more burying her head into Richard's shoulder, she caught a quick glimpse of the king, and was surprised to find him staring at her. She held his gaze for a second and looked away.

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Tristan's breath caught sharply in his throat. He had spent an uncountable amount of time, it seemed, watching that beautiful thief. Rory. What a name. Shaking himself mentally, he quickly reminded his heart, which was beating almost violently in his chest, that she was beautiful yes, but she was also a thief. A thief that, as the King, he had to condemn. Tristan had been chewing over this problem for a while, and had still come to no suitable conclusion. He knew that whatever punishment the thieves would receive lay on him to decide, and it he knew that Marcus wanted them dead. Tristan didn't really think that their crime deserved death, but he knew that Marcus would take it out of his mother if he were displeased. He couldn't help feeling apprehensive, too. Could he do it? Could he put the death penalty on the thieves?

Swallowing hard, he felt a painful pang in his heart as he saw Rory dissolve into tears and throw herself into the arms of a handsome looking commoner, with blonde hair and strong arms; strong arms that were stroking Rory's hair gently. His lips leant over and whispered in Rory's ear, making her smile. Tristan felt a twisting feeling in his stomach- jealousy. How dare he comfort her so? They were both at his mercy! They should be grovelling at his feet! Not comforting each other, lying in each other's arms, smiling and exchanging sweet nothings! All of a sudden Tristan knew that he could kill them, both of them, all of them. He could and he would.

But then he caught Rory staring at him, her blue eyes probing and slightly surprised. Mesmerised by her blue eyes, he felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he realised that her attention was on him. He levelled his blue grey eyes with her sky blue ones for a single moment, and then turned away.

It was in that moment that he realised that he wouldn't ever be able to kill her, or hurt her, which meant that he couldn't kill any of her friends. Tristan couldn't understand it. Why would he care about not hurting a commoner, a peasant, a thief? He had barely spoken of her. He wasn't aware of her existence until that very night, and yet she had changed him in a way he despised. One word echoed through his mind: fate. It was fate. Simply fate.

He couldn't kill them. He had to defend them from Marcus. Marcus could probably kill half the people in the room and frame it on one of the thieves. If it was Tristan's word against Marcus, Marcus would definitely win, being the sly faced, smooth talking, evil eyed villain that he was. Tristan raised his hand and placed it inconspicuously, yet firmly, on his sword hilt. Marcus glanced at Tristan, and in one giant leap of understanding, he saw whose side Tristan had taken. Snarling, he unsheathed his own sword, Tristan just a moment behind him. It was now a race, a contest. Who was faster, Marcus conniving to kill, or Tristan struggling to save?

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Rory knew as soon as the king placed his hand on his sword hilt. He was going to kill them. So much for feeling sorry for the king, Rory thought bitterly as she briefly recalled her memory of her and the Duke's conversation. Richard knew too. Rory felt his muscles tense, waiting for a fight. He slipped something into Rory's hand. It was a dagger hilt. Rory smiled at him gratefully. Her smile turned into a worried frown as she saw Tristan and Marcus exchange glances, and they drew their swords almost in unison. Rory shivered, disgusted.

In one swift movement Marcus made his way across the room, charging directly at Mitch. Mitch ducked, and used his burly fists to punch at Marcus' stomach. Tristan was running over to Rory, but Richard and Jess stood in front of her, Jess having two sharp blades in his hands and Richard a large, thin needle used for gutting fish. He ignored them, and his eyes caught Rory's. He only said one word.

"Run."

Then he turned his back and starting fighting off the guards that had began to surrounded Rory, Jess and Richard. Rory, too surprised to move at first, started sprinting when Jess shouted out at her, stabbing a guard's wrist on her way and making him drop his sword. Following Jess' lead she ran towards the largest window, right at the back of the room, which seemed to take up most of the wall. Mitch and Charles caught up, Mitch with Jon slung over his shoulder. As they reached the window, Marcus growled and leaped, unleashing his furious rampage on poor Charles, who only had a small knife to fight with. The king, seeing what was going on, ran quickly over to Marcus but was slowed down by several guards whom he struggled to fight off. Charles cried out for help, and Jess speared Marcus' right arm with a small spear, but it did no good. Marcus was using a double-sided sword, so he simply switched hands. Charles made a few small thrusts, but he was no match for the skill of fury of Marcus. Tripping over he fell back, and Marcus aimed for a lethal thrust in his heart. He moved backwards quickly, but not quick enough. The blow caught him on his upper thighs, slitting both bottom halves of his leg off. He cried out, an animal shriek in the night. Rory turned away at the sight of blood spurting, and Jess gripped her hand tightly. Marcus raised his sword for one killing blow, but then Tristan came. Rory, not watching, heard the sound of swords hitting and striking, groans from both males. Richard quickly grabbed Charles, more blood spilling on his already blood splattered clothes. Mitch let Jon down for a moment to defend the rest from the bulk of the guards as Jess pushed them all towards the window.

"Jump!" he yelled.

"Are you crazy?" Rory shrieked back, tears pouring down her cheeks,

"Yes!" Jess retorted, with a shadow of a grin, and grabbed Rory's waste, jumping out of the window himself. Rory held onto Jess and shut her eyes, feeling herself fall through the air. She could hear Richard holding Charles, and Mitch holding Jon doing the same. Wincing and waiting for the impact of the ground, she held Jess close and felt him do the same.

But instead of smashing into the hard, grassy ground like she was expecting, she smashed into something soft and deep which smelled like horses. It was straw. Piles and piles of straw! Holding Jess close for a second, breathing in and out, relieved, she struggled to get out of the hay.

Hoping down from the large mass, she saw that Jess was already down and rounding up horses, which were frolicking around the thieves, as if wondering where the obtrusive humans had come from, and what right they had in interrupting the horses' evening meal. Jess soon had the animals organised, and helped Rory up on a black, silky horse. He got on behind her. Looking around, Rory saw that Jon was strewn over Mitch's back, on the back of a light chestnut coloured horse, while Charles was clutching painfully onto Richard, who mounted a strangely oak coloured horse, blood streaming everywhere. Jess gently pressed his heels into the horse's side, making the horse start up into a slow canter. She heard Mitch and Richard do the same, and prayed that Charles would make it, that he would still be alive when they reached Ronald at the hideout. As they passed the castle grounds and started moving into a large field, Rory looked back at the large window that they had jumped from. Straining her eyes she thought she could see the glint of metal against metal, and for the first time wondered if the king was okay. The horses soon broke into a steady gallop, and Rory closed her eyes against the wind, letting the tears fall silently.

"Hey, what's that matter?" Jess asked quietly, his voice tired but concerned.

"Everything," Rory muttered.

"Care to elaborate?" he said gently.

"Don't you see? It's all my fault. If I had just listened to Mitch, if I didn't convince everyone to go, if I was more careful…" Rory trailed off, her voice too unstable for her to control. She held back a desire to sob into the horse's silky main.

"…If I hadn't suggested this in the first place," Jess said lightly. "Nothing would have happened. Nothing. So technically it's my fault."

"Trying to shift the blame off my shoulders doesn't help," Rory sniffed.

"Beating your self up about it doesn't help either," Jess pointed out. Rory was silent. Jess watched her. She looked so sad and miserable, her back to him, the moonlight lighting up her hair. He knew she was crying silently, even though she gave no sign that she was. Almost not able to help himself, he wrapped his arms around her and let her cry in his arms. He usually was not the sentimental type, but he'd make an exception for Rory. He always made an exception for Rory.

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Rory was awoken by Jess' gentle shakes. They were outside the hideout. She noticed with cold horror that Charles was making no noise now. He could be dead, but Jess just told her that he probably just fainted because of loss of blood. Jon was still out, too, and this was almost too much for her to bear. Two of her brothers were almost on the brink of death.

Jess motioned for the others to be silent and went in first to make sure it was safe. Their hideout was located in a bookshop, of all places. Jess said that it was because it was the most unlikely place to find a hideout, but Rory secretly thought it was just because Jess liked to read, and to buy a book was very expensive.

As soon as Jess opened the door to the store he froze. "Shit."

Mitch, Richard and Rory looked up in surprise. Jess bolted out of the store, and leaped back onto his horse, hissing to the others to do the same. As soon as he made sure everyone was mounted, he galloped away, Rory at the back this time, holding onto his waste tightly.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"The bookshop. It was all messed up. And the shelf, it was slashed, like someone had tried to open it. I think it was the palace guards." Jess whispered back, shuddering. Rory knew that that was not all, though. She knew Jess pretty well and could tell when he was holding back.

"What else is it?" she said softly, trying to control the fear in her voice. Jess stared glassily ahead.

"Ronald's walking stick. Covered in blood. Broken…" was all he managed to get out. It was enough. It was too much. Rory was now beyond crying. She just stared at the ground as the horse galloped, lifeless, spent. She suddenly thought of Sookie and Jackson, and wondered if they were safe. If something happened to them… Rory didn't know what she'd do.

"Where are we going?" Mitch's rough voice said, breaking the uncomfortable silence between the four, and sided his horse with Jess'.

"I have an uncle," Jess said, his voice suddenly business-like. "He's a farmer. He lives on the outskirts of this secluded town. I don't see him much but I think we can stay at his place until we figure something else out. He's a bit of a loner."

"What's his name?" Rory asked, intrigued. She never thought of Jess having any family. He never talked about them if he did.

"Luke."