This is the first chapter of my first story and I hope you enjoy it, I will welcome any type of criticism or reviews so please review. Enjoy.
Arthur walked through the forest, yet again wondering why he'd told his father he'd wanted to visit his sister's grave, he hadn't of course, he'd just wanted to be alone. It was four years to this day that his sister, Morgana had been killed by the sorcerer, Mordred; his father's tolerance for magic, with that final blow had diminished, leaving him with nothing other than hate in his heart for all those that bore the gift of sorcery. Arthur knew how prejudice his father's views were, and held nothing but contempt for the man who raised him. After seeing first hand how much pain his father had inflicted on those who did no harm to others, Arthur had vowed, that when he became king things would change for the better. He was pulled from his musings as he heard a muffled noise, much like a scream coming from his left; drawing his sword almost silently from its sheath, he stalked towards the sounds, expecting them to be from an animal.
When his eyes first landed on the large, overbearing man in the centre of the clearing towering over the form of what Arthur assumed to be no more that a boy, rage coursed through his veins.
"What is going on here?" he asked, the politeness beat into him from birth suddenly missing. The large man turned his head, rage covering his face as he took in the perfectly dressed Prince of Camelot. He turned away from the blonde, struggling with his trousers, I don't bloody care who he is, I'm running him through for interrupting me.The younger man, still on the floor, whimpered and the giant hearing it glared before kicked him in the stomach. The younger boy rolled away from the man trying to escape but before he could the boot of the other man came into contact with his back ripping open the skin and causing the boy to bleed.
"Stop. This. Right. Now." Arthur enunciated, resting the blade of his sword against the barbarian's back. "What gives you the right to treat this boy like this?" The prince questioned his voice only slightly lower than a roar. "Now you can either sell me this boy, or I will take him by force." The prince bartered, knowing you couldn't ask a man for something and give nothing in return. Without waiting for a response Arthur threw all of the money that he had on him to the floor at the mans feet before removing his cloak and wrapping the gangly teen in it, hoisting him into his arms and setting him down just outside of the clearing. "Wait here for a second." He whispered to the boy, who just whimpered in response.
When he stepped back into the clearing the man was sat by the campfire, eating what looked to be a chicken leg. "You have been lucky, my friend, on any other day I wouldn't have given him up without a fight." He chuckled to himself, food spilling out of his mouth and down his top. The prince looked away in disgust before firing off his own response.
"No, you are lucky, for if I ever see you within Camelot again, I will kill you." The blonde promised venom dripping from every word. The overgrown man turned about thirteen shades of purple before he smirked, his anger forgotten and replaced with smugness.
"He was a lousy slave and an even lousier fuck; so unwilling, had to be pinned down, all the while screaming no, no, no. I beat it out of him eventually though, never speaks now in fear of loosing his tongue." He laughed seeing the distress on the prince's face.
"What is your name?" Arthur forced out his teeth clenched so tight he thought they would crumble.
"Valiant." He replied, seeming confused. The prince moved so quickly the other man had no chance of escaping as the blonde's sword ran through his chest, "Never again shall you harm another, Valiant," Arthur whispered into the man's ear before withdrawing his sword from his chest, leaving him to slump on the floor, dead.
Arthur strode away, picking the young boy up again, trying to ignore the pain that coursed through him as the dark haired boy leaned away from him. As he walked back to Camelot he thought of the pain that, the now asleep, boy in his arms must have gone through. But the one thing the prince did forget about was the bag that still sat on the forest floor, holding at least twenty pieces of gold.
What did you think? Please review, chapter two will follow shortly.