Matthew Wild
The next day I woke to the smell of something cookingâfresh bread, maybe, or porridge. For a moment, I forgot where I was. The warmth of the blankets, the quiet hum of morning, and the gentle sounds of a household coming to life made me feel like I was back at the castle. But then the events of the previous day came rushing back, and the reality of my situation settled in once more.
I dressed in the clothes Eliza had given me, now warm and dry, and ventured out into the main room. Eliza was bustling around the small kitchen area, humming softly to herself. Arney was at the table, fiddling with something I couldn't see.
"Morning," he called out when he noticed me, his usual grin firmly in place. "You look like you slept well."
"I did, thanks to you both," I replied, sitting down at the table. "I can't thank you enough for everything."
"None of that," Eliza said, waving off my gratitude with a smile. "You're a guest here. Besides, Arney hasn't had anyone to show off to in a while. You're doing me a favor."
Arney feigned a look of offense. "Show off? Mother, you wound me. I'm simply educating our guest on the finer points of heroism."
Eliza rolled her eyes good-naturedly and placed a steaming bowl of porridge in front of me. "Eat up. You'll need your strength if you're planning to keep up with this one today."
I glanced at Arney, who was still grinning like a fool, and couldn't help but smile back. Despite everything, despite the pain and fear that still lingered in my heart, I felt a little lighter in their company.
As I ate, Arney leaned in, his voice dropping slightly. "So, Matthew, what's the plan? You're not planning on sticking around here forever, right?"
"I actually need to head to Wallucia; I've got someone waiting for me there," I said, taking a bite of my food that was handed to me on a plate.
"Wallucia? Haven't you heard? It's been attacked. No one's allowed there now," he replied.
Arney's words hit me like a punch to the gut. Wallucia, attacked? My mind struggled to grasp the reality of what he was saying.
"Attacked?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. "By who?"
"Valoria, of course," Arney replied, his tone matter-of-fact, though his eyes held a hint of concern as he watched my reaction.
"But I've got someone there that I need to meet," I said, the urgency rising in my voice. I could feel my heart pounding, fear clawing at the edges of my thoughts. Peter Hans.
Arney shook his head, his expression grim. "Well, they're probably dead now, who was it you needed to see?"
"Peter Hans," I said, my voice trembling slightly as I spoke his name. "I was told to meet him, he was suppose to help me, after breaking out and all"
Arney's face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Never heard of the man before," he said, shaking his head. "It doesn't mean much though; Wallucia's been cut off for a while, and news doesn't travel fast in these parts."
Arney's blunt words hung heavy in the air, the finality of them sending a shiver down my spine. The thought of Walluciaâonce a place of hope for meânow reduced to ashes, filled me with a sense of helplessness.
I leaned forward, trying to suppress the fear in my voice. "I don't really know what to do now, what about the people there in Wallucia?"
"All dead," Arney repeated, his voice carrying a weight that made the reality sink in even deeper. "Heard it was pretty barbaric. Valoria doesn't mess around when they decide to take a place down."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. "There's no way anyone could have survived?"
He shook his head slowly. "Not likely, not with the way Valoria operates. They leave nothing standing."
The flicker of hope I'd been clinging to was snuffed out, replaced by a cold, empty feeling in my chest. Peter Hans, the person who was supposed to help me, was likely gone, along with everyone else in Wallucia. My last thread of a plan had unraveled, leaving me adrift.
"What about the kingdom?" I asked, a hint of desperation creeping into my voice. "They haven't sent any forces to fight back?"
"Nah," Arney replied with a bitter laugh. "They won't. Wallucia's too small for them to bother sending forces."
I felt a wave of anger rising within me. "But the peopleâ"
"The kingdom doesn't care about us," Arney interrupted, his tone laced with cynicism. "We're just another forgotten corner of the map to them. If it doesn't serve their interests, they turn a blind eye."
His words were a harsh reminder of the reality we lived in, a world where lives were weighed against the cold calculations of power and politics. The people of Wallucia were just another casualty in a war they hadn't asked for, sacrificed in a struggle that had little to do with them.
I clenched my fists, frustration and helplessness boiling within me. "So, what are we supposed to do? Just accept it?"
Arney looked at me, his expression softening slightly. "No, we don't just accept it. We survive. We find a way to keep going, no matter how impossible it seems. Maybe we can't save everyone, but we can still save ourselves"
I stared at Arney, the weight of his words sinking in. He was right; there was no grand plan to save everyone, no cavalry coming to the rescue. All that was left was survival, and maybe, just maybe, finding some way to make things right in the future.
Arney gave me a crooked smile, the kind that held a mix of mischief and determination. "Come on," he said, clapping me on the back, jolting me from my thoughts. "I've got a delivery to make. You coming? Now that you're stuck with me?"
The casual way he said it, like it was just another day, brought a flicker of warmth to the cold that had settled in my chest. I didn't know where this new path would lead or what the next steps would be, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.
I forced a smile, feeling the weight in my chest lighten just a bit. "Yeah," I replied, nodding. "I'm coming."
Arney grinned and stood up, grabbing his gear. As I followed him out the door, the lingering sense of loss and fear didn't vanish, but it dulled, replaced by a tentative hope. Maybe this wasn't the end after all. Maybe, with Arney's help, I could find a way to surviveâand maybe even fight back.
...
Arney led the way through the forest, his steps light and sure. I followed close behind, the morning sun filtering through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was crisp, and for a moment, the horrors of the past days seemed distant, muted by the simple act of walking beside someone who seemed so confident, so at ease.
As we neared the edge of the forest, the sounds of the town began to reach usâvoices, the clatter of carts, the occasional shout. Arney glanced back at me, a playful glint in his eyes. "Stick close, Matthew. Things can get a bit... lively in town."
We emerged from the trees into a bustling market square, filled with the scents of fresh bread, roasting meats, and the earthy smell of the streets. People moved in every direction, bartering, haggling, and laughing. The energy was infectious, a stark contrast to the quiet tension that had settled in my chest since we'd left Eliza's house.
Arney weaved through the crowd with ease, and I did my best to keep up. We passed stalls laden with goodsâfabrics, fruits, tools, and trinkets. Arney slowed as we approached a particularly rough-looking group of men loitering near a corner, their eyes scanning the crowd with a predatory gleam.
"Those are the ones," Arney murmured, his voice low. He didn't need to say more. The men were bandits, no doubt, preying on the town's less fortunate or unwary travelers.
"What are we doing here?" I asked, keeping my voice down.
Arney's grin widened, mischievous and daring. "Just a little redistribution of wealth," he said, and before I could respond, he was moving, slipping into the throng of people with a practiced ease.
I watched, heart pounding, as Arney casually bumped into one of the bandits, muttering an apology as he moved past. The bandit barely glanced at him, too busy scanning the crowd for his next mark. Arney's hand moved like a blur, slipping into the man's pocket and coming away with a small, bulging pouch.
He continued on without breaking stride, his expression relaxed and unconcerned, like he hadn't just robbed a bandit in broad daylight.
"Let's go," Arney whispered as he rejoined me, the pouch now safely tucked into his coat. We moved quickly, heading down a narrow alley away from the square.
Once we were out of sight, Arney slowed, glancing back to ensure we weren't followed. He tossed the pouch to me, and I caught it, feeling the weight of coins inside.
"That should help keep us fed for a while," Arney said with a wink. "And they won't miss it. They've taken more than their share from people around here."
I stared at the pouch, then back at Arney, a mixture of amazement and apprehension swirling inside me. "You're... really good at that."
Arney laughed, a carefree sound that made the tension in my shoulders ease. "You've got to be if you want to survive around here. Besides, it's all about balance. They take from us, we take from them. Simple as that. I'll teach you."
Arney must have seen the hesitation on my face because he nudged me again, his grin widening. "Don't worry, I'll walk you through it. You'll be fine. Consider it your first lesson."
I hesitated, my mind racing. Everything in me recoiled at the thought of stealing, but Arney's voice cut through the noise in my head. "You said you don't know what to do now, right? You've got to learn how to adapt, Matthew. This is part of surviving."
Taking a deep breath, I nodded, trying to push down the knot of anxiety in my stomach. "Alright. What do I do?"
Arney's expression turned serious, all traces of his earlier joking gone. "Okay. See that woman over there?" He pointed discreetly to a middle-aged woman browsing a stall, her attention focused on a selection of fabrics. "She's distracted, and her purse is hanging loose. You're going to walk up beside her, like you're just another shopper, and let your hand brush against the purse. Just a light touch, like you're testing the waters."
I swallowed hard, feeling the tension coil tighter in my chest. "And then?"
"And then, when you're sure she hasn't noticed you, you go for it. Quick and smooth, and then you walk away. Don't look back, don't rush. Just blend into the crowd."
I glanced at the woman, then back at Arney, who gave me an encouraging nod. Steeling myself, I started towards the stall, my heart pounding in my ears.
As I approached, I did exactly as Arney had instructed. I moved in beside the woman, pretending to browse the fabrics while keeping my peripheral vision on her. My hand, trembling slightly, brushed against her purse. She didn't seem to notice, her attention still on the fabrics.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Then, in one swift motion, I closed my fingers around the purse and slipped it free from her belt. My heart leaped into my throat as I felt the weight of the coins in my hand.
I forced myself to walk away calmly, just as Arney had said, though every instinct screamed at me to run. The crowd seemed to close in around me, and I finally allowed myself a glance back. The woman hadn't even noticed her purse was gone.
When I reached Arney, he was grinning from ear to ear. "Not bad for your first time. You'll make a decent thief yet."
I looked down at the purse in my hand, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. Relief, guilt, andâmuch to my surpriseâa small sense of accomplishment. It wasn't something I ever thought I'd do, but in this world, survival meant stepping far outside my comfort zone.
Arney clapped me on the back. "See? You're already learning. Now let's keep moving. We've got a delivery to make."
...
As we continued down the narrow alley, the bustling sounds of the market began to fade behind us. Arney led the way with a confidence that suggested he knew every twist and turn of this maze-like town. I followed in silence, still processing what had just happened. The pouch of stolen coins weighed heavily in my pocket, a tangible reminder of how much my life had changed.
After a few minutes, we arrived at a small, unassuming building tucked away in a quieter part of town. The sign above the door was faded, the words barely legible. Arney pushed open the door without hesitation, motioning for me to follow.
Inside, the space was dimly lit, with a few crates stacked against the walls and a heavy wooden desk dominating the center of the room. Behind the desk sat a man in his late thirties, his hair dark and slicked back, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto us as we entered.
"Arney," the man greeted, his voice low and gravelly. "You're late."
Arney grinned, pulling a small package from inside his coat and tossing it onto the desk. "Got held up by the usual nonsense, Clive. But the package is here, safe and sound."
Clive's eyes flicked to the package, then back to Arney. He reached out, picked it up, and inspected it briefly before setting it aside. "Good work," he said, though his tone lacked warmth. His gaze then shifted to me, and I felt a chill run down my spine as his eyes narrowed in recognition.
"You," Clive said, his voice suddenly sharper. "You're that fugitive."
My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively took a step back. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.
But Clive wasn't buying it. He stood up, reaching behind the desk to pull out a rolled-up piece of parchment. He unrolled it with a flick of his wrist, revealing a wanted poster with my face on it, the likeness unmistakable.
"Matthew Wild, you're the son of Lord and Lady Canterbury" Clive said, reading the name off the poster. "Wanted for treason and escape from captivity. There are posters like this all over town."
Arney shot me a surprised look, clearly not expecting this. "You didn't tell me you were that important" he muttered, his usual easygoing demeanour slipping just a bit.
I felt a wave of panic rising, but I forced myself to stay calm. "I think you're mistaken."
Clive's eyes bore into mine, assessing, calculating. "There's a hefty reward for you, Matthew," he said slowly. "A reward that could make a man very wealthy."
The room seemed to grow colder, the tension thickening the air. I glanced at Arney, searching his face for any sign of what he was thinking. But Arney's expression was unreadable, his gaze shifting between Clive and me.
"Clive," Arney finally spoke, his tone calm but firm. "He's with me. I'm not turning him in."
Clive's eyes flicked to Arney, his expression hardening. "You're vouching for him? You know what that means, Arney. If the guards find him with you, they'll hang you both."
"They gotta catch us first" Arney said, his voice steady.
For a moment, Clive simply stared at us, the room heavy with silence. Then, slowly, he rolled up the wanted poster and set it aside. "You're a fool, Arney," he said, his tone a mix of irritation and reluctant respect. "But you've always been a fool with a good heart. Fine. He stays. But he's your responsibility."
Arney let out a breath he'd been holding, nodding in gratitude. "Thanks, Clive."
Clive grunted, sitting back down behind his desk. "Get out of here before I change my mind," he muttered, waving us off. "And make sure he keeps a low profile."
Without another word, Arney grabbed my arm and led me out of the building, back into the labyrinth of alleyways. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my thoughts were a chaotic swirl, but one thing was clear: I had just narrowly escaped being turned in. And it was thanks to Arney's quick thinking and loyalty that I was still free.
We moved through the narrow streets, the noise of the marketplace fading into the background as we put more distance between ourselves and the danger. I could still feel the weight of the purse I had stolen earlier, but it was nothing compared to the burden of the secrets I was carrying.
"Thanks," I said quietly as we walked, the words feeling inadequate for what he'd just done for me.
Arney shrugged, but his usual lighthearted demeanor was gone. He turned to look at me, his expression serious. "Look, Matthew, if you're going to stick with me, I need to know what I'm dealing with. I can't keep you safe if I don't know what you're running from. So, tell me everything. No more secrets."
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. He was right, of course. I couldn't keep dragging him into my mess without being honest with him. He deserved to know the truth if he was going to keep risking his neck for me.
"Alright," I said, my voice heavy with the gravity of what I was about to reveal. "I'll tell you everything. Just... let's find somewhere safe first."
...
"Well, fuck me," Arney said, taking a swig of ale from his cup.
The tavern was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of roasted meat and the murmur of quiet conversations. We had found a corner table away from the main crowd, where the flickering candlelight barely reached, giving us some semblance of privacy.
I watched him down the ale, his earlier seriousness melting away as he settled into the familiar comfort of the tavern. For a moment, it almost felt like we were just two ordinary men, unwinding after a long day. But the weight of everything I'd just told him hung in the air between us, too heavy to ignore.
"I knew you were running from something," Arney continued, setting his cup down with a soft thud, "but I didn't expect... all of that." He shook his head, a rueful smile playing on his lips. "Guess I picked one hell of a companion, huh?"
I couldn't help but smile, despite everything. "You could say that. But you're the one who saved me, so I guess you're stuck with me now."
Arney laughed, a genuine sound that cut through the tension. "Yeah, I suppose I am. But hey, life's never boring with you around," he added, leaning back in his chair
Arney's laughter faded as he leaned back, studying me with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "So your sister's the princess then?"
I nodded, my expression darkening. "Yep."
Arney's eyes widened slightly as he took in my somber mood. "And the bitch turned you in."
I sighed, the weight of my sister's betrayal pressing down on me. "Yeah, pretty much. She didn't exactly have a choiceâeither I face punishment or she faces the wrath of the king and queen. I understand why she did it, but it doesn't make it any easier."
Arney nodded, his expression thoughtful. "You uptight royal arses just think of yourselves. Sometimes it feels like you're all wrapped up in your own world, forgetting about the rest of us."
I raised an eyebrow. "Not all of us. There are plenty of us who care about more than just our own necks."
Arney took a sip from his cup, eyeing me with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "I just can't understand the fact that the prince is a man-lover. Doesn't that make things... complicated?"
I sighed, feeling the weight of the conversation. "It's not as simple as people think. The prince and Iâwe're close, but it's not just about who he loves. It's about understanding, respect, and everything that goes beyond the rumours and gossip."
Arney raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Damn, you really feel for him then. It's rare to see someone stand up for what they believe in like that."
I nodded, appreciating his recognition. "I do. Even though everything's fallen apart, I'd do anything to keep him safe. It's not just a relationship; it's everything I've got left."
Arney took another sip from his cup, his gaze thoughtful. "I can see that. And you know, I get it now. It's not just about the title or the positionâit's about the people. Even if they're wrapped up in their own world, they still matter."
I smiled, a bit of warmth returning to my chest. "Exactly. It's about connections that go beyond the surface. And in this world, those connections are what keep us grounded."
Arney nodded, his expression softening. "Do I have to refer to you as My Lord from now on"
I smiled, "No, I think that would give me away."
Arney chuckled, taking another sip of his ale. "Good to know. I don't think I'd be able to keep a straight face calling you 'My Lord' all the time. Besides, we're in a tavern, not a palace."
I shook my head, feeling a bit more at ease with the light banter. "Definitely not a palace."
Arney glanced around the room, his eyes scanning the patrons. "Alright then. But if you're not My Lord, what should I call you? Matthew the Fugitive doesn't have quite the right ring to it."
I grinned, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "How about Matthew? Just Matthew. No titles, no airs. Just a guy trying to stay out of trouble."
"Maybe we should change your name" Arney agreed, raising his cup in a mock salute. "you know, to make sure you don't get caught and all."
Arney's playful tone helped ease some of the tension I'd been carrying. I raised my cup in return, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Alright, what name do you suggest?"
Arney took a thoughtful sip of his ale, pretending to ponder the matter. "Hmm, let's see... How about 'Winston'? It's got a distinguished ring to it, but it's common enough that no one will suspect a thing."
I laughed, the sound feeling good after the heaviness of the last few days. "Winston? I suppose it's as good as any. At least it sounds like I'm just an ordinary guy trying to stay under the radar."
"Exactly," Arney said with a grin. "And it's a name that blends in easily. No one will think twice about a Winston just passing through."
I nodded, enjoying the momentary escape from the gravity of our situation. "I'll take it. 'Winston' it is."
Arney raised his cup in another mock salute. "To Winston. May he find his way and avoid too many bandits along the way."
I clinked my cup against his, the gesture a small but comforting affirmation. "To wandering and avoiding trouble," I agreed, feeling a bit lighter as we both took a hearty gulp of our drinks.
As the night wore on, Arney and I continued to chat, the atmosphere of the tavern providing a welcome distraction from our pressing concerns. The patrons around us laughed and talked, their lives seemingly far removed from the turmoil that had engulfed mine. For a brief while, it felt like I could almost blend in, if only for the moment.