Runaway Royalty

Raskor huddled just inside the cave’s entrance, shivering in the musty chill. The storm outside was nearing its crescendo, and Raskor could only hope it would slow their pursuers and wash away any trail they left.

A strangled cough behind him had him rushing further into the cave to where Prince, or rather former Prince, Jarweno curled against the cave wall. Raskor grasped for the supplies dumped nearby for a water flask. Finding it, he held it to the prince’s lips in a silent plea to drink. Tired eyes met his, and the prince parted his lips to let the water flow past them. He was only able to manage a few sips before heaving coughs wracked his body once more.

Raskor capped the flask and dropped it to the side to tend to the prince. There was little more he could do other than keep him warm and hydrated. The poison in his system would run its course in time.

The coughing subsided, and the prince took deep, stuttering breaths to calm his shivering body. Even with his and Raskor’s cloak wrapped around him like a cocoon, chills seemed to seep into him. Jarveno silently cursed to himself as a spike of pain flashed through his stomach. If he hadn’t pushed his plate of poisoned food away in frustration with his father’s obstinance, the sickness would undoubtedly be worse, but even this was enough to cripple him.

The crashing thunder startled him from his thoughts. Raskor had taken his place as sentry once more, just out of reach of the wind and rain. His loyalty to his prince was far greater than Jarveno deserved. A raspy chuckle forced its way from his throat. He ruthlessly shoved it back before it could trigger his coughing again. Two teenagers should not have had to be in a position to make such decisions.

“I can hear you thinking,” Raskor sighed. He scanned the forest outside once more before making his way back to the prince. Jarveno tracked him with his eyes, not replying to his servant and friend’s clear disapproval. Raskor rolled his eyes in response.

“Fine. But we need to keep moving as soon as the storm dies down. You need to rest as much as you can before then.”

“I know that.” The prince scowled and adjusted the cloaks around him. “I promise I won’t slow us down.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Raskor grumbled as he raked a hand through his hair, fingering a strand of brown and knotted locks. “I know you will do what you have to; you always have.”

Jarveno blew out a breath through his nose.

“I know. I’m sorry for snapping.”

This time, Raskor’s eye roll was out of fond exasperation.

“I think you have a good excuse for being so irritable. Are you feeling any better?”

Raskor’s voice was neutrally concerned as befitting a servant, but Jarveno could see the deep-seated worry in his friend’s eyes. He freed one hand from its entrapment and swatted at Raskor’s nose. Raskor flinched away in surprise, his eyes widening at the playful gesture.

“I can actually breathe again, and my stomach isn’t rolling in agony every time I move. I would say that’s progress.”

Relief flashed through Raskor making him slump back against the cave wall.

“That’s good,” he managed to murmur. Jarveno’s hand found its way onto his shoulder. Neither spoke again until the thunder died down and the rain slowed.

Raskor pushed himself to his feet and turned. He held out one hand for Jarveno to grasp. With a grunt, the prince found himself swaying on his feet but upright. He curled his hand around Raskor’s arm for support and the two pressed out into the rainy night.

They had made it to the edge of the forest by the time the sun broke through the clouds the next morning. Jarveno staggered through the last of the brush with Raskor’s arm the only thing keeping him upright. He was soaked to the bone, but there had been no sign of their pursuers since they left the cave. The storm had been a godsend as they had fled.

Raskor helped Jarveno to the ground to rest and eat before they moved on. The sandy beach ahead of them would not hide them like the forest could, and it needed to be crossed as quickly as they could manage.

A rattling cough at his side made Raskor grimace. Even though Jarveno tried to hide it, the prince was in horrible pain. The amount of poison he had consumed from the few bites of dinner he had eaten was not normally lethal, but if Jarveno did not rest, it could become deadly. However, they were not safe enough to take time to recover. By now, the councilors would have sent out spies and trackers to find the missing prince. Without knowing who they could trust, Raskor and Jarveno needed to avoid detection.

After all, with the king and the crown prince dead, Jarveno was the only one who could threaten the usurper. As long as he was alive, Councilor Prestin and his allies would never hold absolute power.

Raskor dug through his pack for a ration bar. In their desperate rush to flee the castle, they didn’t have time to pack adequate supplies. There were only three ration bars left and four days before they reached their destination.

He unwrapped one of the bars and handed it to the prince.

“Here. Eat.”

Jarveno took the bar with blank eyes and took a bite. The automatic motion sent a shiver of fear down Raskor’s spine. His home village was the safest place he could think of, but the prince may not make it that far.

Ignoring the rumbling of his own stomach, Raskor nibbled his lip as he considered their options. If his own home village was too far, they would need to find another secure place. However, the prince was too recognizable with his silvery blond hair that signified the royal family to find shelter in another village. Raskor knew his home would accept the prince and protect him without question, but other poor villages would be just as glad to turn the prince in for ransom.

He eyed the prince’s hair in muted disdain. The silver was like a beacon, calling out to be noticed. They didn’t have any hair dye, nor did Raskor know how to make any from the plants around them. A hat might work for a few days, but it would quickly draw questions. Plus, they would need to find a hat to begin with.

He grit his teeth and glared at the ocean water lapping against the sand. There were no answers to be found and no way but forward.

A shuddering sigh drew his attention. Jarveno had finished the ration bar and now stared at the ground. His face was pinched in pain, but some color had returned.

“You didn’t eat,” the prince said. Raskor winced. He had hoped Jarveno wouldn’t notice.

“No. We don’t have much food, and we still have some distance to go before I am comfortable leaving you alone to hunt. The rations need to last.”

With a slight shift of his body, Jarveno pushed his face into Raskor’s, a scowl much deeper than the one before on his features.

“And if you collapse, there will be no one who can hunt for more food. Where will that leave us?”

Despite his best efforts, Jarveno could not hide the fear in his voice, and he knew Raskor heard it. Cheeks flushing red, he turned away from the older boy and wrapped his arms around his knees.

Hesitant hands rubbed his shoulders in a soothing gesture, an action that Raskor would never have taken back at the castle. Servants were held to strict standards of propriety; physical touch outside of duty was punished severely.

Jarveno couldn’t help but relax his body at the soft touches. It was a desperately needed comfort from the terror of the past days. From the moment he found that scrap of paper detailing treacherous plans, he had pushed aside any emotions that would render him weak against danger. But here, with Raskor at his side and free from the web of betrayal, those emotions demanded his attention.

Tears filled his eyes, and Jarveno hid his face in the fabric of his pants. Raskor’s hands paused, then continued with more confidence than before. The distance the servant master had demanded between royalty and servant had never deterred Raskor’s affection for the young prince in his charge.

The small frame beneath his hands gave a small heave, and Raskor wrapped his arms around the boy in a full embrace.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”

He held the boy in his arms until the shaking stopped. With reluctance, he let his arms fall away and moved back to his original seat as the prince rubbed his eyes and sat up straight. Determined eyes met his.

“Eat,” the prince commanded. His red, puffy eyes blinked away the lingering moisture as he turned his determination onto his friend. No matter how many times his father and tutors had scolded him for it, the prince had considered his servant a friend. After all, his servant was the only one who actually cared for him. And now he was being foolish and not eating.

Raskor knew that the prince would not let them go on unless he ate, so he reached in his pack and pulled out another ration bar. He deliberately ignored the fact that there was only one more left to last them until safety.

As he finished the last few bites, he glared pointedly at the prince who nodded in satisfaction. Jarveno started to speak, but a cough took him by surprise. He bent over in pain as the coughs rattled him. When he pulled his hand away, there was blood.

Raskor grabbed his wrist before the prince could hide the red.

“We’re not going to make it.”

“I can handle it…”

“No. We will find something else.”

Raskor considered for a moment, then tied his pack to his waist. He stood up, motioning for Jarveno to do the same.

“Get on my back,” he told the prince as he crouched in front of him. Jarveno started to protest but a sharp glare silenced him. The prince clambered onto Raskor’s back, wrapping his arms loosely around his neck for stability. Once they were settled, Raskor marched forward. This way, Jarveno could rest as they traveled. It wouldn’t get them far, but perhaps far enough.