Sebastian sprinted towards the black horse standing by the doorway, placed his foot on the stirrup, swung his leg over the saddle, and grabbed the reins. Two Serjeants with beer barrels for a belly were thundering down the tunnel between the castle and the stables.

With a quick kick of the heel, he led the animal out of the stables and onto the busy streets of Sundale. The clattering sound of the hooves on the cobblestones was sweet. The taste of freedom heavenly. 

Shouts came from behind him, but the road ahead was far more important. Men in green uniforms with backpacks on their back were walking in groups of four, five, or six. The patrols were coming home from the camp.

He tugged at the reins, steering the horse left and right to avoid a collision. Heads were turned as he swished by, with the occasional Cadet jumping out of the way.

"Is that Lord Sebastian?" various men said, their voices of pitches ranging from boyish squeaks to low rumbles.

"Don't be daft!" a booming voice towered above the others. "He only ever walks in the King's shadow."

Sebastian huffed. Let them talk. Once he was outside of the city, nobody would recognise him anyway. Bless the Gods of Sloth and Pride that he wasn't wearing his usual uniform. Lady Viviane had laid the grey vest and trousers on his bed, but he had refused to put them on. There were no official meetings today. Nobody would see him apart from his family and the usual servants. Since his Chamber Lady hadn't argued, he had changed into comfortable silk trousers and his favourite green shirt.

Sebastian rode on steadily, following the course of Main Street. He cast a glance over his shoulders. One of the guards had mounted a steed of his own and was now racing towards him, with none other than Stablemaster Dicky in his wake.

Cursing to the heavens, he jammed his foot into the horse's flank. "Go! Faster!"

The stallion picked up the pace, its legs prancing across the stones in leaps and bounces of increasing speed. In the distance shone the gilded main gate in the dim light of the sun playing hide-and-seek behind the thin clouds.

It was almost within reach when Captain Jonathan appeared in the distance. Crossing paths with the man and his pitch black mare would be a sure end to his short-lived liberty. He wasn't ready for it to be over so soon.

A jarring pain shot to his knee as he jerked his leg back and pulled the left rein and, turning the horse into a side street.

The unfortunate people strolling there with their groceries had no idea what was hitting them. Chaos reigned with mothers bumping into the ochre facades, clutching their infants to their chest. Pots fell down from the windowsills and broke onto the cobblestones, the dirt and flowers splattering everywhere.

He didn't see much of the damage. The next street he could turn into, he did. And then another one, and yet another one.  Sundale was a maze, but it was the quickest way to lose the guard and Master Dicky.

He lurched out of a street so narrow no two horses would have been able to pass and dove into the eastern gate. The slow-witted guards scrambled up from the secret nap they were taking, confused that someone was escaping the city instead of trying to get in.

"Hey, you, stop!" shouted one of them.

Sebastian ignored the order. He charged onto the field, the horse trampling the long wisps of grass and kept the city wall on his left.

He couldn't go straight ahead. This side would lead him to The Scorching Plains. He had seen enough of that place to last a lifetime.

In a wide arc, he rode around the main gate. It wasn't enough. Two more horses and Captain Jonathan had spotted him and was now bolting into his direction.

He sought shelter in the tumult of the patrols returning home, but was less fortunate this time around. A Serjeant jumped in front of him as they crossed the bridge. The horse's head collided with the brave fool.

Sebastian didn't look back to see the damage, but the incident had slowed down the horse to a trot. They needed to pick up speed again.

"Yip, yip. Come on," he muttered.

For a mile and a bit, he galloped alongside the river Faith. The path was smooth. There were no muddy tracks from getting over-travelled, but no weeds either. Since Laneby had gone up in flames fewer merchants took this road to the eastern villages. Most either stopped in Sundale or took the bigger road starting from Eastpond.

But he was determined to go home, to rebuild whatever what was left of it. Even if it cost him half his life, he was ready to give up being a Prince if he could be Lord of Laneby. Let the history books remember him as the Lord of ruins. He didn't care; it was better than withering away in Sunstone Castle.

A copse of broad-leaved trees emerged in the distance and beyond it a bigger forest. He rode on, then steered the stallion into the realm of trees, where it would be easier to disappear and fool his stalkers.

The horse's hooves trampled the forest floor. It was covered in half-rotten leaves, dead branches, and other organic waste that three moons of winter hadn't broken down. Here and there grew patches of blossoms in red and yellow, their smell more exciting than anything growing in the royal garden.

Then a bright red fence came into view.

A quick glance left and right taught him that there was no way round it. He needed to act quickly. He folded his body and stood up in the stirrups. Loosening the reins, he jumped over the fence and into the field between the copse and the bigger forest. 

Two cows mooed in encouragement as he rushed them by. A third one chewed the grass. 

Behind him, a bull came charging full speed ahead.

This time Sebastian jammed both his feet into the horse's flank. "Faster! Faster!"

The second fence was within reach, but there was a horting and snorting closing in on him. Puffs of angry smoke rose from the bull's nose. Sebastian's muscles tensed as he braced himself for a second jump. The horse's ears were almost poking his cheeks. 

He held his breath as the horse soared over the obstacle.

The horse's hind hooves clunked against the wood. He tottered and stumbled back into the saddle, but managed to cling to the reins to regain his balance.

The bull banged against the rail, the entire construction vibrating. It let out a long-stretched bellow before giving a final snort and retreating.

That had been a close one. Slowing down to a steady canter, he looked around to see if there was more trouble on the way. No odd shade of green to detect. No army uniform. Only the vivid green of spring and flowers in white and pink.

Just as he turned his head back to the road, something flashed underneath the fallen petals of the cherry tree. A glint in a round shape.

A trap.

Before he could tug at the reins and steer the horse to the right, the iron jaws snapped shut around the horse's left hind leg.

The creature staggered.

Sebastian lay down flat to not fall off, but couldn't do anything to prevent the shrill squealing neighs from echoing through the forest.

Before the stallion reared a second time, he jumped off and ran. A bellow and an excruciating series of neighs so shortly after one another would fool no one, least of all the Captain. The first few feet, his legs were wobbly, and his knees shaky, but he pulled through. He wasn't going back to the castle.

Not when Father was a magician and Fox his brother. The God of Wrath boiled inside of him. His whole childhood was a lie. His father had betrayed his mother. How dared he look at another woman and love her. Stupid Rose with that silly smile of hers. Master Harald should have banged his smith's hammer into her head.

Sunken deep in thought, Sebastian didn't see the man with the large moustache and freshly caught hares hanging from his belt until it was too late. The man seized him and picked him up, his hand covering Sebastian's mouth. "Keep down the racket, scoundrel," he hissed. "You're disturbing my hunt."

Sebastian squirmed and wormed and wiggled. He shook his head until the man retracted his hand, then he shouted, "Let me go!"

"Listen, you little brat." The man's frizzy curls above his receding hairline shot up as he grabbed Sebastian by the collar of his shirt. "Four deer have been spotted in this area. One of them could feed my family for a week."

"I don't care," Sebastian yanked himself free, stomping his foot onto the man's toes.

But the man took a quick step to the left, blocking his path. "I should beat some sense into that insolent head of yours!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sebastian threatened.

"Oh, no?" the man sniffed, a smile quirking his lips. "Who do you think you are?"

From behind him came a series of cracks. A calm yet stern voice spoke, "That would be Crown Prince Sebastian. Release him and I'll drop the poaching charges this time, Adrian."

"Captain," Adrian gasped, his eyes set on the three horsemen that had joined them: one of the guards, Master Dicky, and Captain Jonathan. "I didn't know... I didn't mean..." He bowed clumsily. "My Lord, it's an honour."

Sebastian paid him no attention. He turned to his uncle's men. "I don't care what orders you received. You can tell my uncle I'm not going back. I don't deserve the throne, anyway."

"What's he 'ambling about? Has the poo' kiddo lost his mind?" Master Dicky mumbled, his accent thick as ever.

The Serjeant and his brown mare came closer. Neither he nor the Captain gave the Stablemaster any answer.

"I know about my father," Sebastian said cryptically as he edged further away. He had enough sense in him to not spill his family's secret. If anyone understood what he was referring to, it would be Captain Jonathan. "Why he left. What he did."

"Hold your tongue," Captain Jonathan hissed. "We'll head back to Sunstone Castle and discuss this as men."

"I'm not going back," Sebastian repeated. He would run if he had to. If they wanted to catch him, he would put up a fight.

"My Lord, your days of childish games are long over." The Captain tutted. His eyes darted away from him for a split second, his deep frown turning into a scowl. "Don't stand here dawdling like a muttonhead, Philip, Adrian's getting away."

The hunter had taken to his heels and was running deeper into the forest. Serjeant Philip swooshed Sebastian by and galloped in pursuit.

Sebastian decided to make good use of the tumult. He spurted away in fast strides, making quick swerves to dodge the horses. Every step was a victory. Every pound of the hooves on the forest floor a sign to pick up the pace. 

Master Dicky was shouting, "My Lo'd! Come back! The'es nothin' out he'e fo' little Lo'ds."

His sweat leaked down his face and bit his cheeks. He didn't fear what lay ahead, only the prospect of going back and facing his past, his father's past, and all the trouble the man had caused. Father had been his hero, the Lord he could never live to be. Now he wanted to curse Father to an eternity in the Seven Hells.

Yet it had been him who had condemned Fox to die. He had murdered his brother.

Master Dicky and his tall black stallion leapt in front of him. Sebastian crashed into them, his nose meeting the Stablemaster's knee. Feeling the blood dripping, he cupped his hand around his nose and dashed off.

He didn't get very far.

"I 'ave to do this, kiddo. Fo'give me, 't is the only way."

The two-hundred-pound man slammed his weight onto him, tackling him down. As he wiggled and writhed into any position possible, a large bag was pulled over his head and came down to his shoulders. It stunk of hay and weeks' old manure.

Two rough hands tugged at the bag, now reaching his knees. Sebastian shook his body, panting heavily. He heard his own muffled shouting, "GET ME OUT! RELEASE ME!"

As he was hauled onto the horse, ropes were tied around him. Even if he wanted to move, he couldn't. He was gasping for air but found very little. The semi-darkness overwhelmed him. His stomach churned with dread and shame. Blood was dripping onto his lips and down onto his chin. And then came the tears tugging at his eyelids.

Real men didn't cry. 

Except that they did when their world was falling apart. When a loving father turned out to be a cunning magician who had given in to the Goddess of Lust. When the seed born of that sin was his best friend, his brother; the brother who was dead because of him.

What had he done? WHAT HAD HE DONE?

The journey back to the city was long and dragged on endlessly, as if the men were sauntering on purpose, punishing him for his mischief. His confinement numbed his senses. He saw nothing but the dim light that seeped through the gunny. He heard nothing but his own breathing and the beating of his heart. His hands and face were sticky. Sweat mingled with drying blood, old hay and rotten meadow muffins.

Then the horse halted. Two pairs of hands took him down and left him there.

"Master Dicky?" Sebastian squeaked. "Captain Jonathan?"

"I left a ho'se behind, Captain. I 'ave to go back to free the beastie, tend to his wounds," said Master Dicky as though he hadn't heard him.

"Do what you must," the Captain answered. "I'll deal with this young foal."

"A very naughty foal." The Stablemaster snorted lightly. "But thank you, Captain. I hope I can save my beastie. Adrian's traps are real killers, even for the big beasties."

Heavy footsteps departed. Sebastian waited, both anticipating and dreading his release. The Captain paced around, his footfalls joined by another pair. 

"I've heard of your return," said the voice of Lieutenant Stephen. "His Majesty is expecting His Lordship in the throne room."

"The throne room?" Captain Jonathan asked. "An unexpected choice, but it will teach Lord Sebastian the lesson he deserves."

The impact of his escape hit Sebastian in the stomach. The Captain and the Lieutenant freed him from his jute prison and escorted him back to the castle. The stones in the tunnel might as well have gotten eyes. He wished to turn into a puddle and disappear between the cracks.

Running away from his uncle had been one thing, but it was never a good sign when you met the King of The Greenlands whilst seated on the obsidian throne. Unless you were an important foreign convoy, that right was reserved to criminals awaiting judgement.

The hall was empty. No witnesses in the stands. On his left walked Captain Jonathan, on his right Lieutenant Stephen. Uncle Tom looked down on him, his stare intense.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian murmured. The God of Pride was gone, replaced by his sister Humility.

"I've never been more ashamed of you. What will our people say about you, eh? Have you thought about that? Rumours that died a long time ago will spark anew." Uncle Tom was ruthless. There was no comfort or forgiveness in his voice.

"I guess I wasn't ready," Sebastian mumbled. "I shouldn't have..."

"...run away, stolen a horse, injured both commoners and soldiers alike. Merchants have started complaining about wares they can no longer sell. Last I heard, you led one of my horses straight into a trap."

"I did not. It was an accident," Sebastian defended himself. "The trap just happened to be there. I couldn't help it. There's this man—Captain Jonathan knows him—a poacher by the name of Adrian."

"Who I wanted to pardon this time, until he ran away, Your Majesty," Captain Jonathan explained. "Serjeant Philip is taking him to the dungeon as we speak."

"Let the poacher out. Pay him his weight in gold in return for his silence. He must never speak of what he saw or heard in the forest," Uncle Tom ordered.

Sebastian intervened. "I don't think that will be necessary. I didn't—"

"Silence!" Uncle Tom roared.

"... say anything," Sebastian finished his sentence anyway. "He doesn't know anything about Father, Uncle Tom. You're overreacting."

"I'm the one overreacting?" Uncle Tom gave a sharp chuckle before he rose to his feet and descended from the platform, the broadsword firmly in his hand. "I should have stand my ground. I wanted to wait until you were older, but no..."

Sebastian averted his gaze.

"Look at me!"

He shook his head.

"I'm not gonna ask you twice."

Then don't. He kept his focus on the marble tiles.

"Sebastian!"

He bit his lip.

"I'm talking to you," Using his sword, Uncle Tom scooped his chin up.  When Sebastian didn't give in, Uncle Tom grabbed his cheeks and forced him to look up. "Don't... ever... defy... me like this."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "Why? Afraid of a little criticism, Uncle Tom?"

Uncle Tom's knuckles tightened around the sword. He let out a soft growl. "You've been acting up for weeks now. What happened to you?"

"You happened to me." The God of Pride had returned. He tugged at Sebastian's lips, forcing His words into his mouth, "You made me say it—about Fox. You're the King. You didn't need my approval, yet you convinced me that it was for the best."

"It is for the best! I can't let your half-brother steal my kingdom. Not after all I've done for it."

"Maybe you should have an actual look at the kingdom, Uncle Tom," Sebastian spat. "Then our people wouldn't have to set illegal traps in the forest to feed their family. We're turning into Silvermark."

"What do you know of Silvermark?" Uncle Tom's lips twitched in mockery. "You're barely a man. You don't know what you're saying."

"So why make me give the order to kill Fox?"

"I thought you never wanted to talk about that again."

"I changed my mind, alright!" Sebastian took a defensive stance. "And you know what, Uncle Tom. I hate you. You're becoming just like Ariel, cunning and deceiving. You're a bad King and a worse uncle."

Uncle Tom raised his hand, the blunt edge of the broadsword smacking Sebastian in the cheek. The sheer force knocked him to the ground. Rubbing his face, he stared at his uncle turning his back on him, facing Captain Jonathan and Lieutenant Stephen. 

"Take my nephew to the dungeon. Keep him there until I send for him. Bring him dry bread and water. Nobody visits him but me."

Sebastian was too shocked to protest as Lieutenant Stephen picked him up and tied chains to his arms. He was a real prisoner; his uncle the tyrant King. How could he have ever trusted him?

It's been a while since we had a Fox chapter, isn't it. Next chapter we shall return to Silvermark!