Pariah

Chapter Two

The same cycle repeated itself up to the prince's fourth training day except that each day got consistently harder than the last.
That trying day, at a point, Damian felt he had had enough- and the sun was just rising. So early and he had grown tired of the ups and downs. This time, Maverick had ordered him to climb all four walls of the training ground to the top with only his bare hands and feet. And so far, he had been falling endlessly off the first wall.
Robin tried to plead with Maverick many times to let him take a break, but all the pleading fell on deaf ears. Maverick wouldn't let him go, not even at the sight of the prince's bruised toes and fingers.
Damian knew Maverick to be an insensitive taskmaster, but was he really that cold?
As the prince stood up to try climbing again, he heard a familiar voice come from the entrance behind him. That was Anthony's voice.
Anthony was Damian's manservant, about the same age as the prince and had been serving him since childhood. Because they grew up together, they secretly grew to become best friends. They were such good friends that one told the other everything, and they kept no secrets from each other.
One time, when they were still much younger, the prince fell ill, and Anthony didn't sleep a wink until he'd nursed him back to health, and he was strong enough to run the next day.
Another time, Anthony injured his arm, and when he couldn't get a leave, Damian suggested they trade places. So the prince, in disguise, did all of Anthony's work for the week.
And now, even after so many years, none of that had changed.
"Good morning, Sirs," Anthony had said in his soft scholar-like voice. "I apologise for interrupting, but I was sent here by Her Majesty, the queen. She wants to see the prince."
Robin and Maverick exchanged a few sly glares after which Maverick said, "It's all right. The prince may leave."
Damian rolled down his sleeves, got his shoes and tried as hard as possible to hide his joy as he left the ground.
As soon as he and Anthony were out of sight, he jumped up with a fist in the air and gave Anthony a tight hug.
"Oh yes! You just saved my life back there, Anthony," he shouted out.
"I saved your life?" Anthony was puzzled. "Is it that bad in there with them?"
"When it's Maverick in charge, yes," Damian replied, mimicking a cruel face in Maverick's name as they took a left turn for the royal meeting hall.
The guards manning the door swiftly lifted their spears as they saw the prince coming and pushed the door wide open in a tone of respect. Now, Anthony left the prince's side and stood behind him instead, then they walked into the hall together.
Sitting on the throne was Queen Lauren, and down below at a side, stood the courtier, Sir John.
"Welcome, my dear. How has your training been?" the queen received her son with a bright smile.
"It's going all right, Mother," Damian returned the smile.
Anthony, who was still behind the prince, saw him trying to cover up the bruises on his fingers to hide them from his mother. He sighed at that priceless display of stoicism. He'd heard what many said about Damian; that he was a shadow of his valiant father, that he wasn't as strong. But in his own reckoning, the prince was already the strongest man he knew, and he doubted anyone could ever be stronger.
"I called to inform you, Son, that the list we've been waiting for has finally arrived," the queen said excitedly. Then she pointed a hand to the courtier. "That, in Sir John's hands is the list of the prospective brides."
Damian turned his head to look in the courtier's direction. In Sir John's hands, he saw a long stretch of paper sagging all the way to the ground! His mouth stuck open in amazement for a moment. He couldn't believe it. That list could fit possibly the whole world!
"You will be visiting each of those ladies at their homes, starting tomorrow with Princess Violet of Hyacinth Kingdom," the queen continued. "You will begin your journey to Hyacinth at sunrise tomorrow so you can get there early. Sir John and Anthony will accompany you."
"I wish you good luck, Prince," Sir John gave him a certain smile that said many things, most of which Damian couldn't quite understand though. Then, he started to roll up the list of brides. Damian counted; it took him about twenty loops to completely roll up that monstrosity of a list.
"And Anthony", the queen recalled, "I believe you have received my son's clothes from the tailor already."
"Yes, I have, Your Majesty," Anthony nodded.
So, as day broke the following day, Damian, in his princely attire, boarded the royal carriage and left the palace of Amaden for Hyacinth in the company of Anthony and Sir John.
Along the way, in the first quarter of their journey, Anthony, who was bursting with excitement, wrapped his arm around Damian's collar and squealed like a child, "Isn't it beautiful that in a little while, I'll be attending your wedding?"
"I don't see anything beautiful about it," Damian grunted gloomily.
That wasn't the reply Anthony expected. "Well, why not?" he demanded, retracting the arm he had around the prince.
"First, what are the odds that the 'Princess Violet' will be someone I'd like?" Damian clasped his hands together on his knees, looking genuinely helpless.
Anthony gave him a shrug. "According to the fairy tales my mother used to tell me, all princesses are pretty. Your Violet can't possibly be too far from that."
"She's not my Violet!" Damian elbowed him. Then, he sighed. "And it's not all about beauty, Anthony. There are other things to consider as well."
Anthony put his hands up in surrender, "All right. I won't expect to understand anyway. You've always been the expert at those matters, not me."
"But still, keep an open heart. She might be the one," he added. Damian nodded in reply.
Then, the carriage suddenly stopped.
Damian craned his neck through the window to see what was happening.
As he did, he heard the coachman ask Sir John, "Should I take this gate straight to the borderland or take the longer way?"
"Of course, the longer way," John fired angrily, and the coachman turned.
Damian was perplexed. He wanted to know why on earth John was so comfortable taking the long way and not the shortcut. What was it behind those gates that he wanted to avoid?
"Sir John!" he called out to the courtier so he could ask. "Why are we taking the long way when there's a shortcut?"
John frowned a bit, "What lies behind those gates is... believe me, you wouldn't want to see it either."
"What's behind the gates, Sir John?" the prince chose to press on.
"It's Pariahland," John replied forcefully, obviously not in the least thrilled to. The courtier's voice held an eerie chill as he said the name; a chill truly well-deserved.
The dark history of Pariahland was as old as Amaden itself. Since the kingdom's creation, whenever notorious criminals and high offenders were banished, they were sent there. It was the land of outcasts, a place everyone preferred never to mention. It was the home of everything nefarious.
Damian had heard of Pariahland many times, but like the ghost of a place it was, he never knew where it was. Well, now he did.
"But why does it look like a public gateway, Sir John?" the prince narrowed his eyes as he observed.
The courtier sighed, seeming frustrated by Damian's curiosity. "A few years ago, the young pariahs began to transform the place into a gateway because it's the fastest route to the second borderland. They collect gate fees and taxes from travellers... like a real city." John snorted in disgust. "Just tell me you'll bring some change to that when you're crowned."
"Hopefully, Sir John," Damian nodded as he slid back inside the carriage.
A short while later, when they were now in the borderland, Damian gave Anthony a brief tap on the shoulder and asked, "Can you sit outside and keep watch for me? As soon as we get to Hyacinth, let me know. I want to see all of those famous Hyacinth structures we have always heard about."
"No problem," Anthony shrugged, then made a quick dive outside.
Immediately he left, Damian jumped up to his feet and took off his jacket. He tore off two large pieces from the carriage paddings and tied them under his boots. Then, quietly, he threw the door open and hopped out of the vehicle, landing noiselessly on the paddings under his shoes.
From the ground, he watched the carriage doors swing back shut as his ride rolled down the sandy lanes. He rose back to his feet, and now that he looked less princely and expensive, he could find out what exactly the infamous Pariahland was like.