Prophecy of the Kings - Chapter 1

          “Please, Emma,” Kaplyn said, giving her his most charming smile and using his softest tones normally reserved for special occasions, and this rated very high on his list of special occasions.
 
          Emma pouted and Kaplyn knew he had won and she would do as he wanted, but for the sake of the game he continued the flattery. “You are very special to me and when I return…”
 
          “And what will happen when you return? I am a serving maid. That is all…,” Emma flashed and Kaplyn knew he had made a mistake.
          “But you are special to me, regardless of your position. You know that,”
 
          Kaplyn wheedled, coming closer and putting his hands on her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes, the way he knew she liked. He smiled again, raising his eyebrows in a questioning manner.
 
          Emma returned the smile and beneath his hands he felt her melt.
 
          “How long will you be gone?” she asked.
 
          “Three weeks, perhaps four at the most,” he replied. In truth he had no idea. His plans were half formulated. Emma looked downcast all at once.
 
          “I need to go, Em,” he said softly, using her pet name. “I am stifling here; I hate it.”
 
          Emma looked up and he could see the confusion in her eyes. “Most people can only dream of being in your position. How can you hate it so much?” she questioned.
 
          “I just do,” he replied. “I have no freedom. I am followed everywhere I go. That’s not a life.”
 
          “But you are a prince…”
 
          “Some prince!” he interrupted. “I’m ninth in line to the throne and some of my own brothers don’t even know me. Please,” he continued, “I am not asking a lot. Just distract the guard so that I can leave.”
 
          “Not asking a lot? I know Sanfred. He’ll have his hands all over me before I can say how the Kalanth are you?”
 
          That’s exactly what Kaplyn was hoping for. He too knew Sanfred and he also knew Sanfred fancied Emma. In his mind it was tonight or never and, to escape, sacrifices were needed.
 
          “Look, here’s some gold,” Kaplyn said taking out a purse he had earlier put a couple of sovereigns in for just this occasion.
 
          Emma’s eyes widened as she felt the coins within. “I would help you even without a bribe,” she said. “You know that.”
 
          “Of course I do,” Kaplyn said taking her in his arms. The warmth of her body and scent of her hair almost made him reconsider the folly of his leaving, but then he hardened his resolve. His mind was made up.
 
          “And when are you leaving?” Emma asked.
 
          “Tonight,” he replied, huskily.
 
          Emma pulled back, staring at his face as though trying to commit every line to memory. “You will come back?” she asked.
 
          “I will return with tales to make my brothers green with envy,” Kaplyn grinned.
 
          He went over to the bed and took up his sword, buckling it about his waist. A saddlebag was next, filled with provisions for the road, and then four cloth sacks with lengths of twine followed. “I’m going to get Star,” he said. Go down to Sanfred shortly. Make sure he is inside the guardhouse. That way he’ll not see me leave.
 
          Kaplyn pulled on a woollen cloak, not particularly suited for an Allund prince, but one that he hoped would help him to blend in with a crowd. Looking at himself in a mirror, he saw a young man in his early twenties, long dark hair partly obscuring a handsome face that often won the heart of a young lady. His leather jerkin he had secretly acquired at the market a few weeks ago. Again is it was practical rather than flashy, as was his norm. His riding boots were expensive and, besides his sword, was the only item that might give away his privileged upbringing.
 
          Kaplyn kissed Emma and, without a backward glance, left the plush rooms of his childhood, sweeping swiftly along the deserted corridors. Thick carpet covered his footfalls. The hour was late and lanterns lit the brightly decorated corridor.
 
          Kaplyn’s heart was hammering but even still he grinned broadly. He was actually doing it. He was escaping. Through silent corridors, he traced his way to an exit, and all the while fortune remained with him. After descending a tight spiral stair, he made it to the palace back door without meeting anyone. Pausing by the heavy oak door, he listened before opening it a crack. As the door swung silently inwards, the smell of the stables greeted him. He couldn’t believe it was going so easily. The sounds of voices came to his ears, but the speakers were a long way off judging by the muffled tones.
 
          Kaplyn stepped out into the night. The air was cool, not surprisingly so for early spring. Quickening his pace he hurried to the stables, not pausing to step into the deep shadow of the open door. Horses fidgeted and, ignoring these, Kaplyn went to Star’s stable, swinging open the wooden gate confining her. Star nodded her head in welcome. On a peg Kaplyn kept his bow and a ful quiver. He took them down for later.
 
          He took the cloth sacks and tied one about each of Star’s hooves. She nickered and, knowing her as he did, he sensed that she didn’t understand what was happening.
 
          “Don’t worry,” he whispered stroking her warm flank. “Just a night ride. That’s all.”
 
          He went to fetch a saddle and a blanket and then set about preparing Star for their journey, talking to her softly all the while. Once he had completed his preparations, he took her rein and led her from the stable. This was going to be the difficult part, he realised, leading Star across the cobbled roads to the gate linking the palace to the town. Once through that he was confident he would escape.
 
          As they went he was surprised how effective the sack cloths were proving in dampening the sounds of their passage and, before long, he came in sight of the gate. He blessed Emma for there was no sign of Sanfred. Hurriedly he led Star towards his goal, the pounding of his heart in his ears sounding loud enough to alert anyone in the vicinity. A few yards away, behind a door leading to the palace gardens, a dog started to bark. Kaplyn quickened his pace and then he was alongside the gate. He felt his skin prickle with excitement and, at any moment, he expected to be discovered. And then, all at once, he was through. Before him a narrow road, flanked with tall, rickety looking buildings, led to the city gates. The shops to either side were closed; although even this late there were already sounds of activity and a few lights within.
 
          A little farther on and he encountered the first people. They were probably staff going to bakeries or other employment requiring fires to be stoked. A few cast Kaplyn enquiring looks and, for a moment, he feared that his clothes blended less well with the common folk than he thought. It then dawned on him what the problem was. Star still had the sackcloths over her hooves. He stopped to remove them before continuing, but the din of her iron shod hooves was too much to dare going much farther. Kaplyn walked her deeper into shadow in the lee of a large building. He had to wait for the dawn before the town gates were opened and reasoned that this location was as good as anywhere.
 
          Gradually, as the sky lightened, more people started to appear and with them the occasional cart pulled by tired, dispirited looking horses. Kaplyn joined one as it passed, keeping a short distance behind it. With his heart seemingly in his throat, he followed the cart and driver to the gates. They were being opened and the guards were waving traffic out. There was no attempt to stop anyone leaving, and Kaplyn simply rode through the gate as though he had every right to do so.
 
          A short way from the city walls, he kicked Star into a trot. A smile broke out over his face and he punched the air. “Yes!” he exalted. He had escaped, but what future lay before him he did not know.
 
Read more at http://prophecyofthekings.com/