Excerpts from my story

Excerpts from Chapter 4

Ben rubbed his eyes groggily from lack of sleep. The night had been long and cold, but the guards had yet to find him. He had gone through the outskirts of the city, then retreated towards the woods, which had thinned out to reveal a road. Where it lead, he didn’t know, hopefully it was away. Judging by the new sun, he was heading south, but that’s all he knew. Ben was glad that the morning was cool and damp, so he could wear the hood on his cloak without looking suspicious. He stopped by a tree and dismounted. The young prince examined the metal insignia on the horse’s bridle. Carefully wielding his knife, he cut it loose and slipped it inside his bag. He also tried cutting off the intricate trimmings of the saddle and bridle so that it was much more plain looking. The leather was new and his horse was very good, but anyone could have that. His clothes were common enough, worn boots, a fraying tunic, old breeches. On top of that, they were dirty. He looked like a traveller, but he wouldn’t fool the search parties. He decided to get a lead and head towards the Southern Kingdom, he’d find help somewhere. He knew that he couldn’t stay in his father’s kingdom; he’d be found in an instant. He could move west and join a sailing ship, but the risk would be high. Where would he end up, anyhow? Lands filled with ruffians, thieves, murderers. Lands where royal blood will get you ransomed or worse. No, he didn’t want that. Ben mounted his horse, then went south, following the safe road until he arrived at an inn.
        The inn was far outside the reaches of the capital city that Ben was familiar with. It served as a place for people to be informed of the place before entering it. It was not a bad place, but it was far from holy. There was alcohol, violence, and other unmentionable things, but there was food, lodgings, and an owner who catered to both ends of the moral spectrum. The inn itself was old and a little rundown.
It was a great wooden structure, it sagged a little, but it held up to wind, snow, and rain. There was a main room for eating, talking, and business, and then in another part of the structure there were rooms for travellers or people who wanted to sleep off their drinking. The whole place was lit by large candles, which were always watched very carefully, and they gave off pleasantly uncomfortable shadows. The musty stench of the place was not appetizing. It smelled of a mildewy building that was not clean. On top of that there was the perfume of meat, animals, sweat, and sometimes the vomit of a drunkard. The stables were plain and small, but there was hay, and oats, and a water trough. It was enough to keep a horse alive for a few days. The place was modest, but it worked, and that’s all that mattered.
        Fatigue pulled at the young prince. It would have been wiser to stay away, but Ben could not help himself. He had to stop and rest and replenish his horse. He approached the inn carefully and tied up Thistle in stable, where she was given water and hay. She was jumpy, but, obedient as ever, waited for her master’s return. Ben entered the inn and made a face at the stench. It smacked the prince in his face, and twisted up into his nose. A dog looked lazily at Ben as he entered the inn. There were a few people inside. Two or three burly men, who looked honest, but made the prince uncomfortable. A very hungover man was stooped snoring over a table. There were a few women who made the prince blush, and there was a man who stood behind a counter counting coins carefully-  the inn keeper. Ben approached him slowly.
        “I would like a room and a meal, a stable for my horse, and some provisions,” he said to the innkeeper, who was an old man and one for questioning others.
        “Aye. And what is a boy like you doing looking for a room this early? You seem a bit too… delicate to be travelling by your lonesome,” he said, blowing his rancid breath into Ben’s face.
        “What does it matter? Business is business,” replied the prince, coughing and placing a gold piece on the counter. The innkeeper snatched it up and bit it.
        “You make an excellent point, sir. However, if you’ve been partaking in any… dangerous activities, I’d like to know. It’s my business, you know,” replied the innkeeper, glinting the gold in the morning sun.
“I am tired, leave me be.”
“Who are you coming in here, wearing a hood, refusing my questions? What are you up to?”
“Nothing. Travelling, if anything at all.”
“Please, boy, you’re about fifteen? Sixteen?”
“Seventeen.” The innkeeper looked at the prince in doubt.
“I know your kind. Believe it or not, I was your age once. You miserable youth want nothing but trouble. Well, son, cause any and I’ll beat you harder than your own father. I’ve worked too long and hard for the likes of you to mess it up.”
“What have I done to bring this hostility upon my person, good sir? I asked only for the common needs of man. Your beloved business thrives on the people like me, and the last thing I meant to do was to vex you. I pray that you’ll give me what I asked so that I may replenish and be on my way by the next sunrise.”
“You speak with airs of a well educated man. A noble, no doubt, and yet you are dressed worse than I. What sort of man are you?”
“An honest one who is weary. I beg of you, a room, some food.”
“How is it that you came upon this gold? Did you steal? Did you get paid for a crime? If it was a bet, I would very much like to place my own with your friends.” The innkeeper’s tone was lighter, so Ben smiled a bit.
“This gold came to my pocket through honest means, good sir.”
“Here here! What means is that?”
“I have done nothing of importance.” Ben placed another gold piece on the counter. “Ask me no more questions and give me a room,” he said irritably. The innkeeper grinned in a shady way.
        “Certainly, boy. Come with me,” he said. “Let me know if there are any other services I can offer.” The innkeeper clutched Ben’s payment in his pocket possessively.
“Thank you,” replied the prince, shutting the innkeeper out. Ben was given a simple room with a bed, and a window. He received some hot grain, which he barely had the strength to stomach. Ben undressed and crawled into bed, where sleep finally subdued him. It was an empty sleep, a sleep without dreams. A noise awoke him suddenly, and he looked out the window at the sky, dusk. He had slept longer than he had anticipated. There were noises, husky voices, the jingling of metal, the clanking of weaponry. Heavy stamping of boots. Palace guards.
        The prince looked out his window and saw the party. Six horsemen, all armed, all weary, but highly capable of dragging the prince home, where he would likely be chained inside a tower never to see the light of day again. Ben hopped out of bed and dressed himself even more quickly than he had the night before. He watched the guards enter the inn, not the stables, and could hear them question the innkeeper. Ben desperately needed to escape and fast. Ben locked the door, then used a hearth poker to shatter the window and climb out. He ran into stable and just as he mounted his mare, a guard came in exclaiming that he had found the prince. Ben spurred Thistle onward, in a desperate attempt to escape. He went back into the woods, the guards mounted their horses quickly and followed their prince.
Ben heard hoofbeats on the soft earth and saw the flash of metal insignias on the very decorated horses. He pushed Thistle onward. She responded quickly, galloping faster and out-running the guards. Dusk was once again threatening night, turning the woods into a shadowy nightmare. The trees became demons, every noise made Ben jump. The hoof beats rumbled like thunder behind him. The moon was a sinister smile, with little eyes slowly blinking themselves awake. The air was cold, but the prince was sweating. Where was he going? Deeper into the woods, deeper into darkness, uncertainty, danger. All of those things worried the prince, but nothing could be more dangerous than his father’s wrath. Thistle was straining, but going strong. The hoofbeats grew louder, and Ben became desperate. The prince continued on at his pace. Forward! he thought. Forward! Escape! He was running out of options. There was a flash of his father’s colors between the trees behind him. Ben approached a very thick copse of trees with the guards closing in. In desperation the prince threw himself from his horse, watching her continue to gallop forward. He hid behind the thick trunks of the trees as he waited for the guards to follow the horse without a rider. When all six guards had passed by and were a good distance away, the prince turned on his heels and ran in the other direction.