The Queen guides her son to the stables

Marcus followed his mother down the dark tunnel, his heart pounding in his chest. The small candle she carried was the only light they had, and outside the feeble, flickering circle it cast over the dusty stone floor the darkness seemed absolute. The young prince hung as close as he could to the Queen's back, **** not to fall behind and end up lost in that inky blackness where anything at all could be lurking. His uncle's soldiers...or something even worse. The stone was cold on his bare feet, and felt dirty too, the air cold enough to make him shiver under his silk shift. Why hadn't his Mother at least let him grab a cloak, or pair of fur boots or something? He couldn't very well escape into the night wearing just his rather small sleepwear could he? As if in answer to that worrying thought, he noticed the hem of his shift had ridden rather high up again. Marcus paused a moment and hurriedly pulled it back down over his bare butt.

"Keep up Marcus." The Queen snapped sharply, though he'd only fallen behind a tiny bit. The young prince darted hurriedly forward, his gaze fixed on his Mother's back. Staring at the light ahead of him, he suddenly felt his bare foot catch on something underneath him in the dark, a loose chunk of stone jutting up from the dirty floor. He yelped in shock, his leg twisting underneath him as he fell, landing on his side on the dusty stone. "Marcus!" The Queen gasped, whirling round so fast the candle she was holding almost gutted out. "What happened? Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?" In the flickering light, her pale face looked haunted with worry as she hurried over to him, her dark blue eyes darting over his body. Before he could blink, she'd crouched over his body, holding up the candle over him. He squealed in surprise when she grabbed one of his legs with her free hand, leaning down to stare at his bare calf carefully.

"I'm fine, Mother..." The young prince stammered, struggling off the dirty floor on his hands until he was resting awkwardly on his butt with his leg stretched out in her grip. How could he be so clumsy? His Mother was doing her best to keep him safe from his uncle and he was just being a burden the whole time! He felt his cheeks burn as his Mother's soft, warm hand slid down the skin of his calf, running tenderly along his bare foot and ankle as she checked him for injury. Where her voice had been so sharp and impatient, her touch was gentle, lingering over his leg like she thought he was made of glass.

"It doesn't seem to be sprained or anything, good." She breathed, her voice rather breathless and trembling with relief. "Can you stand, Marcus?" Her dark blue eyes fluttered up to his face, swimming with worry. The **** look on her pale face, lit up in flickering candelight made him pause and bite his lip uncertainly. Usually his Mother just frowned at him and bossed him about. Even in this **** situation seeing her so openly concerned for him made his head spin.

"I...think so." The young prince gasped out, suddenly very much aware how the Queen's soft fingers were still clasped tenderly around his ankle. Her hand was bigger than his own, and so warm and soft against his skin. His flush got even hotter at that thought, and he felt a sharp stab of disappointment when she let his leg go at last.

"We need to move then, quickly." The Queen nodded, her voice stern once more, but as Marcus struggled back to his feet and stood her dark blue eyes never once left his body. That stupid shift rode up his bare legs again of course, exposing inches of soft pale thigh, but as he yanked it back down this time he swore he heard a trembling gasp from his Mother. When he glanced up at her though, she was looking back down the dark passageway, holding up the candle in front of her. "Come on Marcus." She snapped, not even looking at him now. "We have to be far from here before your uncle's soldiers think to look for us. It won't be long before they discover the deception I devised to throw them off our scent."

The young prince started forward, the disappointment he was sure he heard in her words that much more painful after that brief moment of tenderness from his stern mother. He couldn't understand why he was feeling this way, being so silly and stupid as to worry about how she treated him even while both of them were still in danger from his Uncle's soldiers. Why did it matter that she was snapping at him again? So long as he followed her and did as she said she'd keep him safe like she'd promised. He should worry about not tripping over again instead so he didn't cause her even more problems. Staring at the dirty stone floor, the young prince shuffled up to his mother's back, keeping close to her like she wanted as she strode purposefully down the dark passageway.

"There...the ladder to the stables finally." The Queen hissed. Marcus glanced quickly up and saw a rickety old wooden ladder leading up to a trapdoor just like the one they'd climbed down through. "Here, hold this and don't drop it." She turned on him, holding out the flickering candle towards him. Marcus took the brass holder carefully in his trembling hand, hoping his clumsiness wouldn't mess everything up again. "I'll climb up first. Don't follow until I say it's safe, okay Marcus?" The young prince nodded, and stood back to watch as his Mother started up the ladder. Even clambering up those steps, there was a preciseness to her movements, the long dress flowing about her legs as she climbed. She paused just below the trapdoor, reaching up with both hands to press against the wood, straining to press the heavy panel up against rusty, metal hinges with a look of determination on her face. Just like before, Marcus felt a sharp stab of guilt watched his beautiful Mother struggle to lift the trapdoor open. There was only enough space for one of them, he told himself and she was stronger than he was, but still it stung his heart to be the one standing here useless while she did everything for him. What choice did he have though? She'd told him to wait...

At last, the door gave way with a screeching protest of rusted metal, and the Queen climbed up the ladder as she lifted it open. Cool night air flooded through the opening, the smell of horses and manure making the young prince's nose wrinkle. He watched anxiously as his Mother climbed slowly out, her head turning to glance around her into the gloom. She paused with just her upper body out of the trapdoor, staring out into the stables for a few tense moments.

"No-one here, good, just as promised." She nodded, before lifting herself up out of the trapdoor. "Come, Marcus, and be careful this time. I can't catch you from up here if you fall again." She called, glancing over the edge of the opening. The young prince nodded and stepped up to the ladder, the candle held up to give him some light. He stepped awkwardly up onto the ladder, wincing at how awful the rough, weathered wood felt on his bare feet. Holding up the candle with one hand, he gripped the ladder with the other and climbed. The Queen was watching him the whole time, gripping the edge of the trapdoor opening with tense fingers. As soon as he was close enough, she reached down and grabbed his shoulder as if to steady him, guiding him up the rest of the way.

Marcus clambered awkwardly out of the trapdoor, finding himself standing on straw and cold stone. It was dark still, but under the light of the flickering candle in his hand he could see the wooden walls of a stall around him, and a straw roof above. The thick smell of animals was even stronger now, and he shivered as he heard a chorus of low whinnying noises from the darkness as the castle's horses noticed the intruders among them. Marcus shrank closer to his Mother. The stables, this was where the King and his knights kept their mounts. The young prince had never really had much reason to come here, apart from back when he just turned sixteen and Gaius was teaching him how to ride as a birthday present. The thought of how his kind Uncle had patiently guided him through how to sit right on top of the pony and guide it around a paddock with the reins made him pause uncertainly, a dull ache in his chest. How could that same kind man want to execute him now? Had he done something wrong...something that made his uncle hate him that much? He trusted his mother, of course he did, but it just didn't make any sense.

"This way, hurry." The Queen murmured, her voice hushed now. She stepped carefully past him, her booted feet hardly making a sound. The young prince hurried after her, stepping on awkward tiptoes over the dirty straw. He'd never had to walk barefoot like this outside the soft carpets of his bedroom, and it felt just horrible. Following his mother, he stepped out the open gate of this empty stall and into a long corridor running the length of the stables. A few of the castle's horses neighed and huffed as they passed, giving the pair curious looks from their stalls with dark, gleaming eyes. Marcus swallowed nervously as a large head peered at him over one of the wooden gates. The horse he'd managed to ride had been a rather small one compared to these huge beasts.

Just as he was starting to wonder what was happening here, the Queen pulled to a halt suddenly beside one of the stalls, letting out a strangled gasp of trembling relief as she yanked open the wooden gate. The young prince glanced nervously over his mother's shoulder, holding up the candle to illuminate the dark stall beyond. Waiting just inside, tied by its reins to a post, was a large white horse, saddled and bridled, with a pair of leather bags dangling over its flanks that seemed heavy and full. The Queen darted to it, hurriedly untying the reins and using them to guide the large animal out of the stall with her, the noise of its hooves against the stone seeming almost deafeningly loud in the darkness of the empty stables.

"Mother...what are you doing?" The young prince began, just as she stepped up into the stirrups to mount the large animal. The Queen paused a moment, then swung her leg over, settling neatly into the saddle and lowering her head to gaze down at him. She was quite a bit taller already, but now she towered above him, her back straight and her posture perfect as she took the reins in her hands and held them up. Marcus shivered at the cool, expectant look she was giving him from so high above. He hadn't even known the Queen could ride horses at all...she'd never told him that.

"Isn't it obvious already?" She replied coldly. "We're riding out of here, Marcus. I'm taking you away, far away, where your uncle's men won't find you. Come here, right beside the horse." She pointed at the ground near the front of the saddle. Marcus obeyed his mother's strident order without question, shuffling forward until he stood right where she'd him to. He yelped in shock when his mother's hands seized him by the shoulders and lifted him up off the ground, his feet dangling underneath him. "Get your leg up over the saddle already, Marcus." She snapped at him, her voice strained and impatient as she awkwardly held him against the horse's flank. The young prince struggled to obey, squirming up with wriggling hips to lift his bare leg over the saddle, just in front of where she sat. His mother yanked him up the rest of the way, and suddenly he was pressed right against her front, her arms wrapped tightly round his sides as she held the reins a bit in front of his body. "I know you can't ride properly, so you'll have to sit here in front of me." She said from behind him. "Lean back, grip the horse with your legs if you can." Marcus wanted to say he could ride after all, his Uncle had taught him how, but the Queen was already pulling on the reins and urging the horse forward through the stables, out towards the main gates. The young prince fell silent, struggling to stay in place while the animal bounced underneath him. It was very awkward being this far forward on the saddle, but he didn't dare move at all, too afraid he'd fall off the side. Instead, he squeezed in with his bare legs, gripping the furry flanks of the animal as tightly as he could. "I'll protect you, Marcus." The Queen murmured hotly in his ear, her breaths tickling at his skin. "I'll keep you safe." The young prince swallowed anxiously, leaning back against his mother's soft body just as the horse stepped out of the stables and into an empty yard beyond. He didn't feel very safe here, but...he had to trust her. She was his Mother, she'd always looked out for him, and right now she was all he had.