The horse’s hooves impacted the muddied ground with a fierce velocity, but the speed of the steed paled in comparison to the speed at which the rider’s heart was beating.
For all the points on a compass, the path he and his horse had chosen would lead to just one destination. But to simply stop his journey now…to just turn around and return to his simple, comfortable life in Derby…would this not be betrayal as well?
And so he continued, with his heart in his throat and his hands now so wet that he prayed no turn of events would call for him to grip a sword. He rode on, though the sun now set, rode on, though his fear only increased with the approach of the castle’s towers, rode on, across the bridge and through the townspeople as they closed their shops and market carts.
And now he was on foot, though he ran with nearly the speed of his horse, and he was past the gate and up the steps. His soft-bottomed shoes made no sound at all against the marble floor as he ran, and slid, and ran again. And then the ornate doors were before him, and he took just a moment to catch his breath (for there was no turning back now), and then his caught breath was knocked out of him again, when a two-hundred pound weight connected with his abdomen.
The boy fell back onto the marble, hard, as the man pinned him with a blade across his throat.
“You will state your business here, child, or you will never state anything again.”
“I must…I must speak with Lord William,” cried the boy.
“You will speak with me, or you will speak to the dungeon rats.”
“It’s my father…my…my father plans to kill the King!”
For all the points on a compass, the path he and his horse had chosen would lead to just one destination. But to simply stop his journey now…to just turn around and return to his simple, comfortable life in Derby…would this not be betrayal as well?
And so he continued, with his heart in his throat and his hands now so wet that he prayed no turn of events would call for him to grip a sword. He rode on, though the sun now set, rode on, though his fear only increased with the approach of the castle’s towers, rode on, across the bridge and through the townspeople as they closed their shops and market carts.
And now he was on foot, though he ran with nearly the speed of his horse, and he was past the gate and up the steps. His soft-bottomed shoes made no sound at all against the marble floor as he ran, and slid, and ran again. And then the ornate doors were before him, and he took just a moment to catch his breath (for there was no turning back now), and then his caught breath was knocked out of him again, when a two-hundred pound weight connected with his abdomen.
The boy fell back onto the marble, hard, as the man pinned him with a blade across his throat.
“You will state your business here, child, or you will never state anything again.”
“I must…I must speak with Lord William,” cried the boy.
“You will speak with me, or you will speak to the dungeon rats.”
“It’s my father…my…my father plans to kill the King!”
