The Prince's Trust

A lesson you won't forget

A/N: Set around 14th century England, sort of King Arthur setting. Not 100% sure where this story is going right now cause I kinda jumped right into it but it's been nagging me so I had to write this part down 💕... I might hate it tomorrow haha

~ All in Dec's POV (for now) and based on this picture above^^

Enjoy x

"This should teach you to disobey me boy!"

I cried out in pain, my hand clutching my sandy-brown strands of hair that were being tugged cruelly by my master. I stumbled and hurried my small legs to keep up with him, tears fell from my eyes to hit the dried dirt beneath my feet but he didn't care and he didn't slow.

A flash of sunlight reflecting off the chains, nailed to a post, caught my eye and my heart stilled. "N-no! No please I won't do it again.. I swear please." I became desperate as I begged and clawed at the man's grip on my short hair. I was dragged up some wooden steps as a crowd gathered around us.

"P-please Sir, don't do this... I'm sorry!" I struggled as I was shoved into the hands of my masters guard. The beefy man restrained my arms and lifted my wrists above my head to chain them to the post. I pulled back against it desperately wanting to escape but it was completely futile, the iron shackles cut into my wrists and left me completely vulnerable in front of almost the entire village.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest while my body trembled, I pressed my head against the splintered wood infront of me and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm down. The hot summer sun was beating down on me and I could feel it scorching my skin as my shirt was torn from my back.

"P-please." I pleaded through the sobs, feeling completely humiliated from being strung up like an animal, almost completely bare for everyone to see.

"20 lashes!" My masters voice declared and the crowd cheered. We were a small village, suffering from famine due to the war effort, my master was the lord of the land and a cruel man. I was just a servant. I didn't know any of the people watching because I hadn't been born there, to them I was less them scum and in that moment my pain was their entertainment for the day.

I turned as much as my restraints would allow but regretted it instantly as I saw the lords hand holding a cat and nine tails. More tears fell from my eyes. I'd been punished before, but just the usual servant punishments, beatings or being denied food. Nothing public... nothing like this. I hadn't been working for the lord of this village very long, I had been his stable boy for about a year. Boys my age wouldn't normally be stable boys, but because of my height, slim build and naturally shy nature I wasn't really useful for any of the manual labour in the farms the bigger boys did. So I worked with the horses, not that I'd ever complain, I loved my job. But it was times like these I wish I was free.

The large crowd yelled excitedly and calls could be heard to get on with it. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to relax my back ready for the first hit. How could people enjoy this? It was barbaric.

I screamed out in pain as the first hit lashed down on my bare skin and then, in quick succession, another. I knew he was going lightly for the first few though because he hadn't broken the skin yet. The next lash was harder and I pulled against my chains, sobs leaving my lips as my back burned with the agonising pain.

"P-please pl-please s-top." I spluttered but my words were cut off as another hit rained down on my back and tore the skin.

Suddenly, the crowd didn't seem so loud and when I didn't feel a hit I opened my eyes to see a dark figure, his face covered with the hood of his cloak, stepping through the gathering of people. Another hit came down across my shoulder this time but I was too shocked by the pain and my throat was too raw to cry out.