The Horse in the Prince's Stables

Chp. 5

                                                                          =5=

=Kaelyn=

            The sky faded to black as the sun began to sink. Stars gradually appeared, forming clusters and constellations. A cool breeze wafted gently through the little valley, sending blades of grass and stray flowers dancing in the wind. It was a perfect evening.

            No, not really. 

            A beautiful night like tonight could never wash away the memories of Alex's death and my guilt. 

            The moment Alex had been shot with the arrow continually replayed over and over in my mind. I remembered him shifting on my saddle due to myself throwing him out of balance. The shock in his eyes... the dull thud of his body collapsing to the ground... it was all too much. I felt out of touch with reality still, the numbness refused to go away.

            I caught the prince glancing at me from time to time. The thieves bound his arms behind his back, and leaned him against Thunder's dead body. His eyes were filled with bitterness, and suspicion, maybe even hatred. I couldn't blame him one bit. I hated myself for my cowardice. Because of me, the prince lost a mentor, a dear friend. He should hate me.

            Other warm horse bodies were crowded close to me, all of us stood still since there was hardly any room for movement. Most of the horses had become very quiet, feeling exhausted from their excitement and fear from the pervious events. A few nickered softly, almost as if saying good night to one another. This small noise made my eyes well up with tears. Normal horses can't cry, normal horses can't really express themselves in that manner. I'm the exception though.

            Matilda would always say goodnight to me after my nightly transformations. It was always the same thing, "Goodnight my Kaelyn. I'll see you in the morning." After a quick peck on my horsey nose, she'd take the lantern and exit the stables, the warm glow swallowing her up in a sphere of light as she left. 

            I scraped the ground with my hoof, digging a small trench in the dirt. Oh Matilda, she probably has already alerted the king of the prince's absence, suggesting a search party, and is most likely buried deep within her worries. Knowing her, the worst case scenarios would be playing out in her mind. She would think that I had been mauled by a bear, or bitten by some venomous snake.

            Or shot by a crossbowman...

            Feeling his eyes on me again, I barely turned my head to look back at him. I needed to express my most sincere apologies, and somehow let him know that I would do anything to turn back time if it were possible. 

            Half of his face was shrouded in shadow, while the other half was illuminated by orange firelight. His one eye that I could see contained no emotions. I believe he was finally coming to the truth. Neither Alex nor Henry would ride out of the night and save him. The two people he cared for the most had been ripped out of his life, and only himself and a spineless mare had survived. Now here he sat, humiliated, tired, hurt, and probably hungry, surrounded by enemies who would hold him hostage.

            It's cruel for such a wonderful day to turn so wretched.

            The thieves all sat around a meager fire, speaking in low voices, their tones rumbling over to my sensitive ears. Unfortunately I couldn't make out exactly what they were conversing about. The crossbowman was the only one who stepped into the darkness to keep a watchful eye over everything. He blended into the night, barely visible to my eyes.