Hunted Queen

Chapter Thirteen • Chaos

-William-

The next day William woke up to the sound of commotion roaming outside of his tent. His head was throbbing after the amount of ale and wine from last night. He regretted that last tankard which Robert had poured him. Pressing his hand against the side of his head, he said a silent prayer, hoping there would be no fighting today. Hell! He was not even fit for sparring. However, a part of him knew that one of the two would be inevitable for the day.

As he stepped out of his tent, the commotion was still very much alive and it surrounded him. Filling all of his senses and straining his throbbing head. Causing him to squint somewhat before he managed to get a hold of his exterior and let the signs of his hangover disappear. 

It was not panic which roamed around him, but people were shouting and running around. He blinked tiredly as he trudged out into the muddy terrain, heading towards his father's tent.

Out of nowhere a soldier ran up to him. "What is happening?" William asked the young boy. He looked barely fifteen. The eyes were a strange mixture of excitement and fear.  

"A scout, my king." The boy breathed strenuously. Obviously, caused by having being sent to tell William. 

"One of ours?" William asked gravely, fearing that one of them could have been caught. The boy shook his head, having understood the true question William had posed; Is one of ours dead or captured? 

"No, my king." He answered and breathed in and out heavily. "It is one of King Rowan's." William concealed his surprised reaction. This was good news then. They had captured the enemy's scout. Now they only needed to see if they could get something out of him.

"Where is he now?"

"Lord Robert is bringing him to your father's tent, your grace." The boy answered. 

William frowned, not because the scout was brought to his father before him, he barely even reflected on that part. No, he was surprised that it was Robert was the one who had brought him to their camp. Robert was an excellent warrior, with or without his sword, but a silent sneaking asset was not what he was. 

How did he manage to sneak up on a scout? 

"Did Lord Robert catch him?" William asked and signaled the soldier to walk with him with a simple nod. The soldier boy nodded rapidly and joined William on his left side.

"Yes, my king. Lord Robert was up early, went for a ride and just returned." He answered. From the sound of it, he did not know why Robert had left in the first place, but a part of William did. Robert could outdrink the most best drinker of a man and still rise before everyone else in the morning. There was restlessness in this brute which was not going to be suppressed by a night of drinking. 

Robert is also one to look for trouble. William thought. He probably wanted to have a look of the surroundings and came back with a prize. He is going to be boasting about this for ages if the scout decides to spill valuable information. 

William rolled his eyes at the thought of Robert taking credit for the whole war's outcome because of him catching this scout. But, why not? If it meant this wretched war would end sooner, William would gladly give Robert credit after having given it some thought. He had no interest in taking it all for himself. There was no man who could win any war single handed. This much his father had taught him over the years. 

As he entered his father's tent, all of his friends were already there. Robert stood in the far end of the tent, with the scout sitting on his knees before him; Christian and Erik stood with grave faces in the right section of the tent. Judging by their faces, they were as hungover as William was, but they had learned to hide it behind masks of stone, just as he had.  William swallowed, feeling annoyed that he was the last one to arrive. He should have been the first one. He dreaded meeting his father's gaze as his eyes searched for him.