Part Two

'…and you bleed just to know you're alive.'

'His Excellency the Ambassador of Bohemia.' The courtier announced solemnly and everybody in the room bar the King and Queen rose.

From where he stood on his father's left side, Darren forced a fake smile onto his lips. In truth he was bored. Bored, bored, bored. His father's words of the previous night still rung in his head, not adding to the humour of his mood. Now he was being forced to attend yet another meaningless state occasion.

He watched disinterestedly as the weasly little man and his simpering daughter approached the platform that elevated the thrones.

'Your Highnesses.' The ambassador bowed deeply.

His daughter also dipped her head in acknowledgement. A sly smiled crept over Darren's face. If he couldn't get out of these dull proceedings (and he couldn't) he could at least have a little fun. As the young girl raised her head, Darren managed to catch her eye and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush profusely.

After that it was easy enough to arrange to be the one whom escorted her into dinner. In fact it was expected of him and his parents certainly seemed pleased that he was taking his royal duties so seriously for once.

The poor girl was besotted and all through the lavishly prepared banquet, Darren kept up a stream of petty small talk, trying to appear interested in her excited babble. It was also simple enough for him to ensure that her glass was never empty of the finest wines his father's cellars could offer. 

Once the meal was over, the entertainers were called. The minstrels and jugglers, clowns and acrobats. After watching politely for a short while Darren leaned over and whispered to his companion. 'How about we slip away for some fresh air. There is a lovely walk among the rose arbour I would like to show you.'

Smiling a touch too eagerly, the ambassador's daughter readily agreed.

Darren knew what he was doing was wrong. The girl was far too innocence for his games. What he was doing would probably result in a serious diplomatic incident. Probably set back all the good relations that his parents had worked so hard to foster. But at the moment Darren was not in the mood to care too much for diplomacy.

Silently the two slipped from the great hall. Their departure noticed only by the smirking Grand Chancellor, who allowed them enough time to think that their actions had gone unobserved before turning and following them.

Taking the girl's hand Darren led her outside and down a flight of marble steps into the garden.

'I thought you might like to see the maze as well.' He told her sotto voce.

Meekly she nodded, tightening her grip on Darren's hand.

'What's the matter? Not afraid of the dark are you?'

'No..o.' she replied timidly as Darren took her down a side path, making his way towards the tall leylendii trees that marked the edge of the maze. Behind them the lights of the castle grew fainter and fainter as the rows of trees grew denser. The moon, still so near to total fullness, threw up strange shapes and shadows, the crisp snow muffling their footsteps.

'I, um, I,' the ambassadors daughter stopped. This wasn't quite what she had envisioned when she agreed to accompany Darren. 'Shouldn't we be getting back? Won't our parents be wondering where we have gone?'

'I doubt it and besides if your father thinks you are with me he'll be the happiest man alive.'

The maze held no fear for Darren. He had been playing in it since he was a small child and knew each twist and turn intimately.

'Come on.' Letting go of her hand Darren strode off into the all consuming darkness. Very little light penetrated the dense treeline and he relied on instinct to find his way.

'Your Highness – please?' a note of fear crept into his victim's voice, 'please,' she uttered pleadingly.

'Come and find me.' a voice echoed from deep within.

The girl hesitated, looked behind her and then back at the foreboding entrance. She wasn't sure she could find her way back unaided and didn't much relish the prospect either.

'Come on.' Darren's voice coaxed again.

Knowing she didn't have much choice she took what little courage she had in both hands and followed Darren into the darkness.

From his concealed position the Grand Chancellor smiled. He had no intention of entering the maze. He wasn't about to get lost in the various oubliettes and cut-offs. He didn't need to. He had seen enough of Darren's games to know exactly what he was playing at. To know that he planned exactly that – to get the unsuspecting girl lost. 

'Your Highness?' Darren heard her petrified stammer and grinned to himself. This was more like it – much more fun than some stuffy old banquet.

'Right here.' He said, stepping out of his hiding place, causing the girl to jump three feet in the air.

'Oh, oooh, ooooooo…' covering her face with her hands she burst into tears.

Oh shit, thought Darren, I take it all back, this isn't fun at all. It was far too easy.

'Hey, don't cry.'

'but, but…' She suddenly sounded very young and very scared and Darren began to feel remorse what he had subjected her to. He had only meant to tease her, not frighten her half out of her wits. Finding her hand again he led her back to the entrance.

'I'm sorry,' she apologised in between sobs as the lights of the castle once more came into view.

'It's ok – now are you going to be alright?'

'You're not coming back in?'

'No, not yet. Will you be able to find your way back from here?'

Numbly she nodded, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand in a very un-ladylike manner.

'Here.' Darren handed her his silk handkerchief.

'Thank you.' The sobs subsided.

'I'm sorry if I scared you.' He said dropping a light kiss on her forehead.

Smiling weakly she turned and gratefully headed back to the warmth and safety of the great hall.

Waiting until he was sure she was safe, Darren did an about turn and set off in the opposite direction.

A few minutes later a figure emerged from the shadows, a little disappointed that nothing more had occurred but still satisfied enough that he had one more incident to add to his ever-growing list. A list that would ensure that when the prince did eventually inherit his father's throne the Grand Chancellor would be the one controlling it.

Darren had to get away. Not yet wishing to face the wrath of his parents he made his way to the stables. Changing out of his regal robes into a set of old clothes he kept there he started out on foot for the village. Riding would have been easier but seeing how very few of the villagers owned horses it would have immediately aroused suspicion, stripping him of the anonymity he so cherished on these excursions.

Breaking into a brisk jog across the fields, he soon arrived on the outskirts of the small village. Slowing his pace Darren made his way to his favourite tavern. Stopping only to run his hand through his hair, ruffling the already messed up locks further, he pushed open the thick oak door and entered.

The heat from the large open fireplace and the raucous laughter of the men sat around it hit him immediately. But ignoring both the warmth and the company he took a seat over in the far corner.

If the bartender and his patrons ever recognised the quiet young man whom from time to time frequented the establishment they said nothing and for the main they tended to leave him to his thoughts. Though they were always careful to steer the conversation away from matters of state in his hearing just in case. None of them were particularly keen on the idea of being hauled before the King on a charge of treason.

Silently the bartender brought Darren his usual tankard of ale and set it before him with a nod of his head. The man was about to go back and join his other customers when Darren placed a hand on his arm.

'Is Polly here tonight?' he asked in a low voice.

'Yes young sir, she's in the kitchen. Shall I fetch her for you?'

Darren nodded. Perhaps half an hour upstairs with the pretty and always obliging Polly would help take his mind off his troubles.

Darren smiled as the barmaid came over, with her full lips and slim hips, she had soothed him on many an occasion.

'Hello again.' She said stopping in front of him. Like the others she had her suspicions but kept them to herself. She was also under no illusions as to the nature of their relationship.

‘Shall we?’ Darren inclined his head towards the staircase.

Taking one of his hands in hers and picking up his tankard with the other, Polly led the way up the stairs to her room. 

As soon as the door shut behind then, Darren grabbed her round the waist and pulled her to him. ‘Missed me?’

 ‘Of course.’ She replied semi-truthfully, and putting his drink down on the table placed her hands behind his head, drawing him down for a kiss.

Melting into the kiss Darren felt a rush of emotions, some he welcomed, others he didn’t. It felt so good to touch her, to hold her. With uncharacteristic roughness he groped for the ties on her dress, forcing the printed cotton off her rounded shoulders.

‘Sir, please...’ startled she tried to persuade him to slow down but he just batted her hand away and continued pulling, even the sound of the fabric ripping failed to penetrate his consciousness.

‘Please.’ Polly was beginning to get scared. This was not how it usually was, usually he was so gentle, so tender, even in his most amorous moods he had never attacked her like this.

Blindly he reached for her hem, his fingers bunching up the material as they worked towards their goal.

‘No, no.’ She attempted to pull back but Darren wouldn’t let her. Struggling they knocked into the table sending the tankard of ale flying. 

'Stop. You're hurting me. Stop it.' Her voice became ever more desperate until she resorted to the one thing she hoped would jolt him out of his actions. ' DARREN YOU'RE HURTING ME!'

It was the first time she had ever used his name and the shock of it made Darren release her immediately.

Dumbfounded he stood there as she slid down the wall, instinctively curling into a small ball, her hands protectively covering her head and face as if she expected him to hit her.

Bending down beside her and with shaking hands he drew her hands away from her body. 'I am so sorry.' He whispered. 'I don't know what came over me.' The look on her face said it all. He had broken the trust between them; treated her like all the rest.

‘Please just go.' She struggled in vain to pull the remnants of her dress around her bruised body.

Horrified at his handiwork, Darren stood up and backed out of the room. Pure adrenaline took him down the stairs, out of the tavern and halfway across the fields before the full impact of what he had so nearly done hit.

The realisation made him cry out in pain. What had he been thinking? He had almost raped Polly. She might be a common barmaid but it still gave him no right to treat her like that. Disgusted with himself, Darren felt physically sick He had successfully managed to hurt two women tonight. Something that was never his intention. He couldn't even blame the drink, despite everything he had barely touched a drop. No this was all of his own doing.

Doubling over, all the tensions of the last few days manifested themselves in forcing the contents of his stomach from him. Sinking to his knees, Darren raised a handful of the icy snow to his lips in an effort to purge the sour taste of bile from his mouth, as hot, angry tears of desperation began to fall. Everything felt so hopeless. Wiping away the tears, least they be ones of self-pity, he got to his feet and continued the long trudge home. Why couldn't life be simple? Simple like the wolves he so admired.

The last part of his journey took him over an ornate stone bridge at the bottom of the open ground that he had gazed so longingly upon the night before. Halfway across he paused. Suddenly things were perfectly clear.

Hesitantly Darren pulled himself up so that he was standing on the edge of the stonework. Resolutely he focused on the dark inviting water barely 10ft below him. What had he to live for? He was trapped in a life he had no control over. One that had been pre-ordained from the moment of his birth. Forced to marry some insipid princess just so that the whole process could begin all over again.

The river was deep and fast flowing, riddled with undercurrents. Death would be swift. He would be pulled under and swept downstream in a matter of seconds. Lost in his contemplations he didn't hear the figure approaching him until…

'You don't really want to do that do you?' A soft voice behind him said.