The Princess and Her Whipping Boy

Revenge

Cronan was silent as he watched Archer struggling to unsaddle a fidgeting mare. Cronan had offered twice to give him a hand, but Archer was stubbornly proud. Finally, after a nightmare of a struggle, the saddle dropped to the ground.

Cronan pushed passed Archer, swinging the saddle up in his arms and placing it back in its place. Archer watched him, his eyes betraying his gratefulness, but his pride not letting the words speak. He limped noticeably as he scrubbed the mare down. Ever since the beating he had received, his knee's old injury had acted up, and though he said nothing of it, Cronan knew he barely slept with the pain.

"I am sorry, Arch" he whispered softly.

As usual Archer ignored him, but by the way his jaw tightened, Cronan knew he had heard. Cronan inched over carefully, before wrapping his arms about his friend, hugging him from behind and resting his head upon the nape of his neck.

"I miss Mable too, Arch. You can blame me if it makes you feel better. I just hate seeing you like this."

Archer remained silent still, but Cronan could hear the hurt heart beating wildly, and feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed heavily. He knew Archer was holding back a torrent of tears he could not shed. Archer slowly leant back into Cronan's embrace, his head resting back against Cronan's. Then finally, after days of silence, he spoke in a cracked voice.

"Just don't you leave me, Cronan. Don't you ever go without me." He turned around and looked down at his younger friend. He bent forward, his forehead resting for a brief moment against Cronan's. "No matter where you go, take me with you." He thrust the brush into Cronan's hand and turning, he limped away. Cronan watched. He understood the unspoken words of Archer's heart.

No matter where you go, in life or death, take me with you.

Cronan smiled softly. "We'll be okay, Arch. I promise."

"You even talk to yourself?" Asked a cold voice from behind.

Cronan swung about, shying backwards. It was the princess. She eyed him closely, as she swept by, heading over to her stallion's stall.

"Saddle Mirk" she commanded suddenly, as she began untying the bundle she had carried with her and transferring the items to her saddle bag.

Cronan stared at her aghast. "But princess, the parade is tonight. Aren't you to be present?"

Rosalina looked up, her blazing eyes boring into his. "Did I stutter, slave?"

Cronan's shoulders sank in defeat and he moved to obey. But he could not help but to mutter in argument. "Your father will be most angry. He also forbid Mirk to be taken out of the palace grounds. Once out of the walls, the wild may call to him. And he may-" Cronan broke off as Roslalina shoved him aside and swung up over the horse.

"Save your breath and go saddle Tora. You are accompanying me."

As Cronan stared up at the princess, her gaze weakened and she glanced away. One by one, the puzzle pieces fell together. Cronan smiled bitterly, as he turned to obey. "Of course" he murmured loud enough for her to hear. "I am your whipping boy after all.

"Then perhaps you should have known better than to anger me at every chance you got" the princess snapped back at him.

Cronan said nothing, though his heart cried out at the unfairness of the accusation. He swung up on to Tora's back, his grip tightening on the reins as the young mare skitted and kicked. Not even waiting to see that he followed, Rosalina swung her horse about and thundered out into the open. Down through the horse yard, and out of the palace walls, they galloped.