LET IT HURT

Baldwin heard little outside of the guarded tent for he was too preoccupied by his own thoughts. He worried for his Knights and he fretted over the survivors.

Impatient, he paced until a young lad with gnarly fingers and bandy legs told him he was to leave the tent. The lad, growing sparse bristles for a first beard gaped at the King with open curiosity. Baldwin ignored him and took the horse offered. He mounted noting that the animal was docile and rather reluctant to move. This he decided was a deliberate decision on Unwine's behalf as they might as well have given him a mule to ride since he would be out-riding no one on this sluggish animal.

The sun was well on her way into the sky when the Baldwin was ushered along the dirt road, his horse needing tidbits of food to entice him along. Men in all directions surrounded him making it clear that he may be a King but he was still a prisoner. In the light of day he made a clear count of three dozen of men. It was a number that he alone could not win but would be insignificant upon the arrival of reinforcements. Like the lad they cast him curious stares, some appeared amazed at their fortune and others alert and wary of playing with a royal fire.

For a while Baldwin rode his horse calmly but then he saw a thin row of ragged village boys dragged along behind. He cursed for not having seen them earlier and turned his horse around to face Unwine who rode not ten feet from him. "You said you would leave the people untouched!"

Unwine smiled but it looked more like a sneer. "And untouched they will be. I am lacking of some men since you've disposed of them. I will need their labor to set up camp and after they shall be returned."

He had more than enough hands to make camp, no the boys were there as a further guarantee to Baldwin's compliance. The King wordlessly fumed mentally making a count of the boys and vowing to see to it that every single one would return until he spotted a familiar dark head. "And the woman?" he demanded.

The older man looked over at Alexia with disinterest. "I don't know how she got among the boys." Baldwin would sooner swallow his tongue than to believe the savage.

"How she got there does not matter. She is my maid, I want her returned to the village this instant."

"Certainly Your Highness." Unwine slurred with fake compliance. "But we have come far already and even if I could spare a man to send her back I cannot guarantee her safety when alone with a deprived man."

Baldwin summoned all his royal haughtiness. "Well if you cannot guarantee such a small matter then untie her and she shall ride with me. It is an insult that she should be taken for labor. An upset King does not like to make generous offers."

Unwine seemed to consider. If he treated the King well then they might just fetch a more handsome ransom. "As you wish." He shouted out and she was released.

Alexia didn't need to be told twice and she hurried over to Baldwin's horse wide eyed and coursing with tremors though whether it was from fear of fatigue he could not tell. He leaned over as inconspicuously as he could. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head mutely. "That is good, can you ride?" He asked to which she answered to with a nod. "Then up, upon my horse." He held out his hand.

Alexia hesitated before shaking her head.

"I cannot."

Baldwin looked at her with mild surprise. At times like this surely propriety was the last thing on her mind?

She cast a scared glance over her shoulder before whispering faintly. "If need be, your horse can run faster with just one rider."

She looked scared, he could see her struggling to fight the fear that gripped her yet here she was prepared to offer him the best chance of escaping without her. It touched him, her bravery was reminiscent of his Crusaders and it offered him strength. For all his calm façade he knew very well that he was more vulnerable than he allowed any to see and he needed to be strong for his Kingdom needed him still. "I will be going nowhere unless we all go." Baldwin reassured. This promise he intended to keep-

A whip cracked loudly, disturbing the still air and snapping Baldwin to attention. The line of boys scattered in a unexpected chorus of cries.

A heavy limbed man towered over a boy who lay on the ground clutching his arm and whimpering. "Move you useless piece of meat!" The man was shouting.

"Lay one more whip on that boy and I will see to it that your face will receive the next lash!" Baldwin bellowed furiously. Feeling his master's anger, his horse grunted and arched causing Baldwin to pull the reigns tightly to bring the beast back into a stand still.

Furious he turned to Unwine. "You swore by your honor that you would not lay a hand on a single boy!"

Unwine didn't even flinch. "Honor is worth very little out here. You may find that water and food are worth more." He paused dramatically to enjoy the King's temporary loss of words before spurring his horse forward. "MAKE CAMP! Get the prisoners working!" With a final smug glance he cantered on. Alexia looked away from the King, unnerved by the anger burning in his eyes. A muscle in his jaw twitched at the familiar movement that he caught out of the corner of his eye. A hand lifting a whip-

Without a word he swung himself off from the saddle and strode over to the line of prisoners with his hand balled into a fist. His arm pulled back and then flew in a wide arc straight into the face of the whip carrier. The man fell immediately, his face turned into a bloody pulp by a broken nose. Baldwin grabbed him by his dirty collar and gave him a rough shake. "Your leader may not abide by his words but I do." He released the man and stepped away, glad to be away from his foul breath.

A circle of men had gathered but none moved to aid their comrade. From afar, Unwine watched half amused. As many of his men he was surprised. The pretty boy did more than talk after all. A small part of Unwine began to hate the King for foolishly believing that honor truly existed; if honor could save them then he would hold it close to his heart too.

Couf spat blood laughing gruffly as he did. "If a brawl is what you wanted you should have said-" He growled to the King in his hand he held the whip still and he wondered whether Royal flesh split as easily as it did on a peasant under the cruel leather.

"No-" Alexia watched in horror as the downed man got to his feet and spat blood out again. Spittle continued to drip from his mouth and mingle with blood gushing from his nose. It was terrible to watch. The ring of spectators tightened and the brawl began. The King who stood so proud and tall with fair skin stood in the path of a tanned, savagely coarse man; it was like throwing delicate glass against hardened iron slag. She closed her eyes as the first punch was thrown.

A rough voice disturbed Unwine from the scuffle. "I know what you see when you look at him."

"Oh? Is that so?" He replied airily. "Borchat, should it worry me that you think that you know me so well?"

"You see what you once was."

"Now if I was once a King I think we wouldn't be having this conversation now would we?" Unwine began in a somewhat patronizing manner.

"No, you have nothing that will make you a good King."

"I think no man has." He said with good nature at Borchat's insult.

"We all had ideals once." Borchat said as a way pointing out what it was about that King that irked Unwine so. "He just holds onto his a little harder than we did."

"Then I must see to it that he loses his hold soon then won't I?"

"Does it bother you so much?"

"What bothers me is your voice, Borchat. Do not question me again."

"As you wish." Borchat said and went to break the fight up. "Out of my way!" He shoved men aside. "Couf, if you don't let up we won't have no King left to ransom!" He shouted. Couf, now suffered a missing tooth and a broken nose. Baldwin had opened up his head wound and one side of his face was turning purple.

"I said let up! You're falling to pieces!" Borchat shouted and kicked in like a Father breaking up two brothers.

"He'd be falling to pieces too if he'd grown into a man by gnarling root ends!" Couf shouted kicking out.

Borchat once more worked himself between the two. "Let up Couf or I'll have your hide in the sun!"

Couf struggled a while longer before he let up. Baldwin untangled himself from the dirty man and stepped back.

"This isn't finished until I break his pretty face!" Couf threatened wiping a blackened across his mouth.

Borchat ignored him. "You won't have a face unless you get moving." He snarled. "Get to work!" Couf looked murderous but Borchat had authority and the last person who disobeyed him was dealt with an axe to the head. Couf stalked away mouthing profanities as he spat out more blood. This was not the end.

Baldwin watched him go with the same thought. "My Lord!" Alexia was there pulling him away but there was nowhere to go for every pair of eyes guarded them like poisonous serpents ready to strike. But for now none did strike, not before their demands were met and the King was left with the slave.

Together they stood in silence, the King breathing hard until tension released him. Alexia wondered that he was still alive at all. She had seen men fight to the death for lesser reasons but never had she expected to see a Lord let alone the King grapple with an outlaw. It shocked and scared her for she knew that her life would end as soon as he took his last breath. Neither she nor the boys would ever see home again. She feared for their lives, she feared for her life and it pained her that it should depend a man who would so willing forget that his life was precious. A mixture of despair and sorrow clotted against her heart and every last fiber of her body to control it. Everything happened for a reason. She had to have Faith and believe that this is her path. Faith was all she had now to strengthen her soul.

Light rapidly fled as time slipped onto the darker side of twilight. "Your head is cut, My Lord." In the dimness Baldwin could see Alexia squinting at his hairline. "I could clean it for you." She added, her gaze automatically dropping to his dirt-covered face and then to her grimy hands. Water, she needed clean water, there was no logic in cleaning a wound with more dirt. Her attention drifted from their immediate surroundings, her ears perking to the faint tinkle of running water nearby.

"I will fetch a skin of water." She said reaching to take the thick-skinned bottle from the horse's saddle.

Baldwin stopped her. "There is no need."

"But your cut needs to be cleaned."

His hand jumped uneasily to his hairline, the skin around it was tight and crusted with dried blood.

Alexia watched him openly. Every worker, every soldier and even every child knew that wounds could rapidly rot if not cleaned. The King struck her as a sensible man and even if he did not know this, surely it was uncomfortable? Her eyes fell upon the hand he was using to explore the cut; his long fingers were worked into his hair as if to deliberately irritate the clotted blood. "Does it hurt, My Lord?" She asked suddenly understanding a little. Why he welcomed a brawl, why he welcomed the pain…

"Let it hurt." He answered vaguely, his hand falling back to his lap. "It reminds me that I live still."

These were not words she expected from a King and Alexia was taken aback by the complete sadness that he uttered them with. "You needn't rely on pain to remind you still live. Such tasks are better left to the more pleasant things in life."

Baldwin blinked; taking in the sense that her words gently delivered. Plain were her words but profound was the meaning that reached his ears. She spoke of pleasant things; Baldwin recalled a field where the grass grew lush and flowers blossomed for the sun; exotic tales and songs filled the air. It might have been a dream but it was his dream and one day he knew that he would see it.

His fleeting daydream passed as soon as it arrived and thoughts with a more substantial weight began to occupy his mind. To die here in this desolate hell from a mere cut was unfitting. He still had a war to go to, a battle to win with the Crusaders by his side. Death would not so easily find his soul up for the taking, not while duty still beckoned to him.

"It will do you no good to let it fester." He heard Alexia say to which responded to with a nod.

"No good will come of it." He agreed. "But first, tell me what lies ahead? I am not familiar with this land." He first needed to know his grounds in order to decide how best to deal with his predicament.

It seemed to Alexia that the window into the King's brief emotional reflection was closed and the man that sat before her was once again dressed in armor as hard as stone. In response she too withdrew behind her own personal walls. She squinted into the distance thinking hard to recall the geography of the land. "A river cuts the hills, a fishing community lies to its east and un-owned land to the west."

He nodded thoughtfully. Godfrey would be well on his way

"And what do you see My Lord? What lies ahead?" she returned although her question held an entirely different connotation altogether.

Baldwin's lips pressed into a thin line. "Death, pain, sacrifice…and all the other physical or mental scars alike that is to be expected of war." He answered his eyes following the distant horizon as if he were reading the future.

Alexia fell back into an uneasy silence. She felt oddly detached from her body, as if somehow she had become a spectator of herself. It was peculiar, odd, disconcerting and most of all frightening. With a dead certainty she knew she would never return to the village that she had called home in the last few years. She was thrown forwards, picked up by a violent wave and she was at the mercy of forces that tossed and buffeted her headfirst into the mysterious unknown that was her sea.

The King had termed it 'war'. A little word that encompassed so much and much more than she knew she was capable of understanding, all her life her world had been the villages that she and her father traveled to and fro from; once they moved onto a new one the old ceased to exist. Lord Baldwin's words hinted at a grander scale that she had never experienced and now she doubted if she wanted the experience.