Matthew Wild
With one last glance at Marcus, I kicked the horse into motion. The animal bolted forward, hooves pounding against the earth as we sped away from the castle. The wind whipped through my hair, and the cold night air stung my face, but I barely noticed. My mind was focused solely on the escape, on putting as much distance as possible between myself and the place where my death sentence awaited.
The forest loomed ahead, dark and dense, but I knew it was my only refuge. I urged the horse on, pushing it to its limits as we approached the treeline. The sound of the bells grew fainter with each stride, and the shadows of the trees soon enveloped me, offering a temporary sanctuary from the world that sought to condemn me.
I didn't know how long I rode, but eventually, the horse began to slow, its breath labored from the hard run. We had covered a good distance, and I could no longer hear the bells in the distance. The realisation that I had made it this farâthat I had a chanceâbrought a surge of relief so powerful it almost made me dizzy.
The moon hung low, casting an eerie glow on the path ahead as I urged myself to keep moving. The forest loomed in the distance, a dark, twisted sanctuary that might offer some protectionâif I could reach it in time.
But as I neared the treeline, movement caught my eye. Three figures stepped out from the shadows, their armor gleaming in the dim light. Guards. My stomach dropped. I froze, instinctively taking the reins, but before I could steady my horse into a gallop, I was flung backwards, tumbling off the horse, as it was startled by their loud voices. It broke off into the forest, leaving me with my heart pounded in my ears as I realised just how exposed I was. No weapon, no planâjust desperation.
"Stop right there," one of them ordered, his voice cold and authoritative. The other two closed in, cutting off any chance of escape.
Panic surged through me. I had nothing, not even a rock to throw. Just my bare hands and the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The nearest guard took a step forward, his sword already drawn. I could see the cruel anticipation in his eyes.
"We've got orders to kill you," another one said, his grin widening as he brandished his weapon.
My mind raced, trying to calculate my chances. There were none. Not like this. My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a cold sweat break out across my skin. The reality of my situation slammed into meâI was completely and utterly vulnerable.
Without a word, the first guard lunged at me, his sword cutting through the air. I barely managed to throw myself to the side, rolling across the dirt. Pain flared in my shoulder as I hit the ground, but I scrambled to my feet, fueled by sheer terror.
They were on me in an instant, relentless. One of them slashed at me, and I twisted away just in time, feeling the blade graze my ribs. The other swung at my head, and I ducked, my heart hammering in my chest. My hands curled into fists, but I knew they were useless against trained soldiers with steel in their hands.
I had no choice but to run. But as I turned, one of the guards grabbed me, his grip ironclad around my arm. He yanked me back, and before I could react, he slammed the hilt of his sword into my stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs, and I doubled over in pain, gasping for breath.
A kick to my side sent me sprawling to the ground. I coughed, trying to suck in air as the world spun around me. The taste of blood filled my mouth, but I forced myself to look up. The guards loomed over me, their faces twisted in satisfaction. They knew they had me. They knew it was over.
But something inside me refused to accept it. I couldn't just lie there and die. Not like this. With a surge of desperation, I rolled away, ignoring the searing pain in my side. I stumbled to my feet, my vision blurring, and bolted for the trees.
They shouted behind me, their footsteps pounding after me, but I didn't look back. I couldn't. Every step was agony, my body screaming in protest, but I forced myself to keep going. The trees were so close, just a little furtherâ
A hand grabbed the back of my shirt, yanking me to a stop. I twisted, trying to break free, but the guard's grip was too strong. He slammed me against a tree, the bark scraping my back. My vision swam, and I saw the glint of a blade being raised.
This was it.
In that moment, a strange calm washed over me. The fight drained out of me as the reality of my situation settled in. There would be no more running, and I wouldn't have to hide. I wasn't going to make it out of this. I wasn't going to make it home.
Home, Sebastian, The words felt foreign now, distant. What home? The life I'd known was gone, shattered the moment I became a target. I was a fugitive, a man with nothing left but the clothes on his backâand even those were about to be soaked in blood.
I would never get my old life back.
The realisation hit me harder than any of the guards' blows. The palace, the days of luxury, the people I'd once shared secrets withâall of it was lost to me now. I wasn't Matthew, the favored son of a lord, anymore. I wasn't the brother of the future queen. I wasn't Sebastian's lover, the prince who had risked everything to be with me. I was Matthew the hunted, Matthew the marked man.
I didn't know if I'd ever find safety again, if I'd ever find a place to belong. But as the blade came down, I knew one thing for certainâthere was no going back. My life, as I'd known it, was over.
The guard's sword was just inches from my flesh when he suddenly froze, his face contorting in shock. Blood started pouring from his mouth, staining his grimy uniform. He crumpled forward, his sword clattering to the grass beside him. I could barely process what had happened before the guard's body hit the ground with a heavy thud.
I scrambled back, my breath coming in ragged gasps. As the guard's lifeless form lay there, I glanced around, desperately searching for the source of this unexpected intervention.
Emerging from the shadow of the trees was a figure I didn't recognize. He was a young man, his clothes simple and travel-worn. His face was set with a determined look as he hurried towards me. He was gripping a long, bloodied blade, and his eyes were sharp, scanning the area for any more threats.
"Are you alright?" he called out, his voice a low but urgent whisper. He didn't wait for a reply. "We need to move quickly. They won't be far behind. Can you walk?"
I nodded, still trying to make sense of the situation. "Yes, I can walk," I managed to say, though my legs felt like lead.
He nodded curtly and gestured for me to follow. As we plunged back into the dense forest, I could hear the distant shouts and the crashing of underbrush as the guards pursued us. The young man led the way with an ease that suggested he knew this terrain well, his movements swift and precise.
My mind was a whirl of confusion and gratitude. I didn't know who this stranger was or why he'd risked his life to save me, but right now, his presence was my lifeline. The pain from my wounds was secondary to the urgency of escaping the guards who were still hunting us.
"Who are you?" I managed to ask between breaths, my voice barely more than a whisper.
"Introductions are for later" he replied, his gaze fixed ahead. "Let's get out of here first"
His words were a stark reminder of our precarious situation. I gritted my teeth against the pain, forcing my legs to keep moving even though each step felt like a jolt of fire through my body. The forest seemed endless, and the sound of pursuit was a constant reminder of how close danger was.
We veered off the main path, navigating through a tangle of underbrush and overgrown roots. The man's familiarity with the terrain was evident in the way he effortlessly avoided obstacles and guided me through the most treacherous parts of the forest. Every so often, he would glance back to ensure I was still on my feet, his eyes betraying a flicker of concern.
I could hear the shouts of the guards growing fainter, but I knew better than to believe we were safe just yet. The exhaustion and pain were taking their toll, and I stumbled more frequently as we pressed on. The man noticed, and each time, he would offer a steadying hand or a few encouraging words.
"Almost there," he said at one point, his voice steady despite the tension. "A little further, than we'll be away enough so they won't find us."
I managed a nod, though it was more of a reflex than a conscious decision. My vision was dimming around the edges, and my strength was waning. The forest around us seemed to blur into a haze of green and brown, and the pain in my side was a relentless throb.
After what felt like an eternity, we reached a small clearing surrounded by dense foliage. The man helped me to the ground and set about making a temporary camp. He worked quickly, his hands moving with practiced efficiency as he prepared a small fire and began to tend to my wounds again.
"You're safe here for now," he said, his tone softer as he looked at me with a mix of concern and determination. "We'll stay hidden for a while then contiue on."
I wanted to thank him, to express my gratitude, but the effort of speaking was too much. Instead, I just lay there, the cool night air mingling with the pain and exhaustion. I had been rescued by a stranger in the middle of the forest, my old world now a distant memory.
"Whoever you are," I finally managed, "thank you."
"The name's Arney. What's yours?"
"Arney, thank you," I replied, forcing a faint smile through the pain. "My name is Matthew."
Arney gave a nod of acknowledgment, his gaze never leaving the dark expanse of the forest. "So, why are royal guards chasing you?"
"I'm a captive who's escaped," I said, my voice strained but steady.
"Damn!" He said, turning to look at me, his expression shifting from urgent concern to curiosity. "How'd you manage that? Security's real tight."
"I know someone who let me out," I said, the words coming more easily now that the immediate danger seemed to have passed. "But even with their help, it wasn't enough. The guards were waiting for me."
"Well, you need to introduce me to that person," Arney said, his tone lightening slightly despite the gravity of the situation. "I need links like that."
"Ah," I hissed in pain, feeling the sharp stab of agony again. "Crap!" I said, glancing down at my hand, which was now coated in blood, my fingers clenching my abdomen.
Arney's face tightened with concern. "Let's see," he said, moving closer to inspect my wounds. The moonlight revealed the deep gash along my side, blood seeping through the torn fabric of my shirt. "Pretty deep graze, but you'll live," he said, his voice calm but resolute. He moved with practiced efficiency, pulling a small leather kit from his pack and quickly assessing the situation.
His hands, though rough, were surprisingly gentle as he cleaned the wound, his brow furrowed in concentration. Despite the pain, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence. This stranger, who had risked his own life to save mine, was now tending to my injuries with a quiet determination.
"Try to stay still," Arney said softly, as he applied a makeshift bandage. "You someone important then?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, confusion mingling with my pain.
"Your clothes," he said, nodding at my tattered garments. "You're a rich person. What crime did you commit, then?"
I sighed, the weight of my situation pressing heavily on my chest. My heart ached with the memory of Sebastian, and I struggled to find the right words. "It's complicated," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"So you ain't gonna tell the man who saved your life, then?" Arney prodded gently, his tone both curious and persistent.
I glanced up at him, his eyes focused on his work but filled with genuine interest. "I fraternized with someone important, and I got caught," I said, the words escaping with a mix of resignation and shame. "That's why I'm here."
Arney's expression softened as he finished tying the bandage. "Seems like a rough spot to be in," he said, his voice carrying a note of sympathy. "Good thing I came along to save you."
I nodded, grateful for his understanding, even if the details of my situation remained unsaid. The reality of my predicament began to sink in, my thoughts scattered among the pain and uncertainty.
"So, why are you here?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the throbbing in my side. "You killed a guard. That's a threat to the kingdom. You could get hanged if you're caught."
Arney shrugged, his eyes glinting with a mixture of defiance and amusement. "Well, they're buffoons," he said with a wry smile. "Too dense to ever find me."
His casual dismissal of the danger made me raise an eyebrow, but there was something reassuring about his confidence. The way he carried himself suggested he was used to navigating perilous situations with a kind of ease that belied the seriousness of his actions.
"Seems like you've got a knack for getting out of tight spots," I said, trying to match his light-hearted tone despite the lingering pain.
"More like I know how to blend in and keep my head down," Arney replied, his smile widening. "But enough about me. We need to focus on getting you somewhere safe. I have a place nearby, hidden well enough that they won't find us easily. It's not much, but it's better than the risk of being out here."
I looked around at the dark forest, feeling a glimmer of hope. "Lead the way," I said, my voice steadier now. "I'm ready."
With a nod, Arney set off through the underbrush, his steps sure and purposeful. I followed as best I could, each step a reminder of the pain but also of the slim chance of escape that had been offered to me. In the darkness of the forest, guided by Arney's confidence and skill, I felt a flicker of hopeâa small but important reprieve from the despair that had clung to me since my escape.
...
We moved swiftly through the forest, Arney leading the way with practiced ease. The pain in my side was a constant, gnawing reminder of how close I'd come to being caught. Every now and then, Arney would glance back, ensuring I was keeping up. His concern was subtle but clear.
Eventually, we reached a small clearing with a modest, thatched-roof cottage nestled among the trees. It was far from grand, but it looked sturdy and safe. Arney led me to the door, which he opened with a gentle creak.
As soon as we stepped inside, the warmth of the fire and the smell of something hearty and comforting filled the air. The cottage was simple but cozy, with wooden furniture and handmade tapestries lining the walls.
"Mother!" Arney called out, his voice carrying an urgency I hadn't heard before.
From the back room, a middle-aged woman emerged. Her face was etched with worry, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Arney. Her relief was palpable, but as she noticed the blood on his clothes and my own battered state, her expression shifted to one of alarm.
"Arney!" she exclaimed, rushing forward. "What's happened? Where have you been?" Her gaze shifted to me, and the concern in her eyes deepened. "And who is this?"
"This is Matthew," Arney said quickly, his tone softening. "He's hurt and needs help."
The woman's eyes widened further, her hands flying to her mouth. " What on earth...? I never heard of a Matthew before"
"Mother, please," Arney interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "We need to get him patched up. Can you help?"
She nodded, moving with a flurry of efficiency. "Of course, dear. Come, sit here." She gestured to a low wooden table covered with a cloth. "Let me take a look at you."
I sank into the chair, feeling the exhaustion hit me like a wave. The woman, whose name I learned was Eliza, worked quickly, her hands steady and practiced as she examined my wounds.
Eliza's gaze shifted from Arney to me, her worry palpable. "I don't know what you two have been up to, but I hope it's not trouble that could get you killed."
Arney shot a quick, reassuring smile at his mother. "No, Mother, we weren't up to anything dangerous. Just a bit of sparring, and Matthew's just a bit bad at it."
The light-hearted comment was meant to defuse the tension, but Eliza's eyes remained sharp as she worked on my wounds. "Well, I'm glad to hear it's nothing worse," she said, though her tone suggested she wasn't entirely convinced. "Still, it's better to be careful. We've got enough trouble with the world as it is."
As she carefully cleaned and bandaged my wounds, her movements were efficient but gentle. The pain was sharp, but her touch was soothing, and I could feel myself relaxing under her care. Despite the agony of my situation, there was a small comfort in her presence.
"Thank you, Eliza," I managed, trying to sound as sincere as I felt.
Eliza paused for a moment, her expression softening. "You're welcome, dear" She then turned to her son, "Arney, why don't you help Matthew get settled in? I'll fetch some fresh clothes for him. We can't have him wandering around in those dirty clothes. Although with a clean, it will sure look fine."
Arney chuckled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Sure thing, Mother. I'll make sure he gets the royal treatment. And by that, I mean a good spot by the fire."
My eyes narrowed at Arney, catching the playful glint in his eyes. His joke, though light-hearted, was a stark reminder of the world I had left behind. I instantly thought back to Marcus, Alice, and Sebastianâour laughter and camaraderie a vivid memory in my mind. I remembered the ease of our friendship, the simple joys of shared moments. And then there was Katharina, the sharp pang of her betrayal hitting me like a cold wave.
"Very funny," Eliza said, shaking her head with a smile. "But seriously, Matthew, you'll feel better in some proper clothes. I've got something that should fit you."
I watched as she bustled about, her movements efficient and lively. She returned shortly with a bundle of clean clothesâsimple but well-made garments that promised comfort. She handed them to me with a warm, motherly smile. "Here you go. They're not fancy, but they should be a bit more comfortable than what you're wearing."
I took the clothes from Eliza with a grateful nod, touched by her kindness. As I changed into the fresh garments, I couldn't help but appreciate how much more comfortable they were compared to my torn, blood-stained suit. The fabric was soft, and the fit was just right.
While I dressed, Arney amused himself by telling exaggerated tales of his latest misadventures. His stories were filled with dramatic flair, and though I knew he was embellishing, it was clear that his storytelling was as much about entertainment as it was about distraction.
"Wow, you've certainly experienced a lot," I laughed along with him, trying to ignore the ache in my abdomen. His antics, though exaggerated, were a welcome diversion from the turmoil of the day.
Arney grinned, clearly enjoying the reaction. "You have no idea! Once, I outwitted a whole band of thieves with nothing but a single coin and a very convincing act. They were so baffled they handed over their own stash!"
Eliza, her hands busy with meal preparations, called over her shoulder, "Arney, don't turn our guest into a laughingstock before dinner! I want him to have a good night's rest, not be rolling in laughter."
Arney shot her a playful grin. "Of course, Mother. I wouldn't dream of it. But really, Matthew, you should know that you're now part of our household's unofficial 'legendary rescue' lore."
I managed a chuckle, despite the lingering ache from my wounds. The atmosphere was surprisingly light, and the simple act of changing into clean clothes and sitting down to a warm meal had worked wonders on my mood.
As I rejoined Arney at the table, Eliza set down a steaming bowl of stew, its aroma filling the room with a comforting scent. The stew was rich and hearty, a stark contrast to the cold, harsh reality of the day. Eliza served generous portions, and Arney winked at me as he took his seat.
"Eat up," Eliza said with a gentle insistence. "You've had a rough day, and you need to regain your strength"
As I took my first bite, the flavors were a revelationâsimple yet deeply satisfying. The warmth of the stew and the care in Eliza's cooking were a balm for both body and soul. I looked around at the cozy kitchen, the flickering firelight casting gentle shadows on the walls, and felt a sense of peace I hadn't experienced in days.
"Thank you," I said quietly, my voice thick with emotion. "Both of you."
Eliza smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Eat up, dear, before the food gets cold."
Arney leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. "Here's to new friends and unexpected rescues. Cheers to a night of good food and even better company."
I raised my bowl in a silent toast, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude. The laughter and conversation that followed were a welcome distraction, a small but significant reminder that even in the midst of chaos, there could still be moments of connection and kindness.