“Fall back! Fall back!”  The words rang out over the din of clashing metal as sword met sword.  The stone walls of the castle were beginning to crumble under the assault from the invading forces, with flaming missiles bombarding the castle's defences, setting the thatch roofs of the houses below on fire.  The screaming of panicked civilians had died away long ago, and now only there was only the cries of battle.  The invading army was pushing forward, but had not yet reached the citadel as the defending Arturian army fought with all their might to keep them away from the heart of the kingdom.

In the centre of the battle, striving to force the oncoming army back was the King, his torn and blood-soaked purple cloak marked him as different from the rest of the soldiers.  Surrounding him were a circle of soldiers clad in dark leather armour, red cloaks revealing them as the King's personal guard, fending off any attackers who might catch their king unawares.

One figure was slightly shorter and less muscular than the others, yet was fighting just as fiercely, knocking back attacker after attacker and refusing to allow a single soldier to get  through their guard.  The sole female member of the King's personal guard, Gwenllian Thorne.

"Gwenllian," the King shouted and the shorter soldier turned. 

"My lord."  She struck out at a soldier who came charging towards the King.  Her sword made contact with the soldier's chest-plate, knocking him back, and continued her assault with a blow to the head, sending him to the ground and finishing the combat with a fatal strike to the neck.  Seeing that there was no immediate danger, she strode towards her king, who put his hand on her shoulder pulling her face close to his.

"Go and find my son.  Find Jevan and get him out of the castle."

"But my lord,  I am sworn to protect you, I cannot-"

"You are sworn to protect the King of Arturia.  This fight will not last much longer and I will no longer be King.  Your responsibility is to protect my son and ensure that he becomes the man that he was destined to be."

"But your majesty, what about the prophecy?  We cannot give up."

"Even if I believed in that kind of thing, I wouldn't change this decision."

Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen saw a soldier break through the defensive line and charge towards the King.  Throwing her body in front of him, Gwenllian swung her sword in time to block the incoming blow.  She pushed back against the enemy with all her strength, knocking him off balance, giving her enough time to drive her sword home into his side.

"My lord," she said, turning back to her king, "I understand you want to save your son but I am not the best person-"

"I trust you Gwenllian.  You will make sure that Jevan gets out of here unharmed.  That is what I need from you and this is why I'm commanding you to leave me to save my son."  Gwenllian saw the look in her king's eyes, calm and resolute, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to persuade him to change his mind.  She knelt before him, bowing her head.

"I will do as I am commanded."  Rising to her feet she saw that the King understood.  This was it.  They both knew that this was goodbye.  

Without saying a word, Gwenllian turned and broke into a run away from the King.  Swinging her heavy sword, she barely broke her stride as she struck out at any soldier who tried to get in her way.  She knew that she had to keep powering onwards; if she looked back then she didn't know if she would be able to keep going.

The fighting had spread all over the lower city.  All the citizens had fled from their homes and had either taken refuge in the castle or had met a fatal end at the hands of the invading army.  The castle stood far from where Gwenllian had been defending the King the, imposing, at the top of the hill, separated from her by rows of houses and shops and taverns that made up the lower city.  Although burning debris from the flaming missiles had lit many of the houses directly below the castle on fire, those further down the hill had faired much better and many were still intact.  The conflict was not as fierce here, although with the army about to retreat it would soon become a battlefield.

Not wanting to waste a second, Gwenllian ran as fast as she could up the main street towards the castle, her task fixed firmly in her mind.  She didn't even pause as she approached the gates to the castle, guarded by the few men that they could spare.  The two men at the gate recognised her and did not think to stop her, but held the gates open for her to run through.   They knew what the return of one of the King's guard in the heat of battle meant.  Gwenllian only hoped that they would be able to hold their nerve and defend the castle until the final surrender.

She climbed the sturdy stone steps of the castle, hurrying through the high archway that marked the entrance to the large welcome hall.  The Queen was pacing up and down the hall, but her head spun round and her eyes focused on Gwenllian, who slowed at the sight of her King's wife.

"What news?"  The Queen hurried towards Gwenllian, her face lined with worry.  Gwenllian could tell that the Queen knew the answer to the question she asked, but in her heart of hearts she still hoped what she believed was not true.

"They have breached the lower city.  Their numbers are much more than we were lead to believe and the King has ordered our troops to fall back towards the castle."

The Queen showed no outward sign of distress but Gwenllian could see her shoulders grow tense and her hands grip the skirt of her gown.  "What is your mission, Lady Gwen?"

"I have been ordered to find your son.  It is time for him to leave."  Gwenllian observed the perfectly composed queen as she processed the information and nodded her consent.  

"I did not think it would come to this.  I suppose a part of me hoped that the prophecy was true."

"We all did, your majesty.  But now we must do what we can to save this kingdom's future.  Where can I find your son?"

"The North Tower."  The Queen took hold of Gwenllian's hand and held it tightly.  She could feel the Queen's hands shaking.  "Take care of him for me, Gwen.  He is my child."

"I will do all I can to protect him, your Majesty.  And one day I shall reunite you with him."

The Queen's eyes grew moist, glistening in the light of the candles that illuminated the hall.  She squeezed Gwenllian's hand one last time before letting it go and stepping aside.  Gwenllian bowed to her queen before hurrying up the staircase that led to the North Tower.  The time for emotional goodbyes had passed, both the Queen and Gwen knew that.  Who knew if Gwenllian would be able to keep her promise to reunite the Queen with her son.  In times of invasion one never knew whether an invading force would be merciful.

Gwenllian's legs began to protest as she ran up yet more flights of stairs, but she pushed through the aches she felt in her muscles and hurtled up the North Tower.  When she reached the top of the staircase she saw a thick wooden door and went straight towards it, throwing all of her weight behind her to push it open.  Behind the door was a simple bedroom, with only a bed as furnishings.  That was where the young prince was sat as Gwenllian came through the door.  His eyes were startled and full of fear, clearly expecting, instead of Gwen, the invading army, ready to execute him.

"It's time to go."  Gwen hurried to wear she saw a bag, ready and packed for this situation.

"What?"  Jevan rose from the bed.  "What do you mean go?"

"Your father has ordered me to find you and get you somewhere safe."  Gwen checked the contents of the bag, finding a small amount of supplies and enough money to get them out of Arturia without being noticed.

"But that means-"

"I don't have time to explain now, we are going."  Gwen grabbed the teenager's hand and dragged him from the room, heading back down the stairs.  The boy continued to ask questions and protest as Gwen hurried them towards the rear of the castle where the horses were kept.

"What about my father?"  Jevan protested as Gwen threw him up onto an already saddled horse.  "What about my mother?"

"I will reunited them with you as soon as I can," Gwen replied, not looking him in the face.

"Arturia cannot fall, it's in all the legends-"

"If the King manages to fight of our invaders then I shall bring you back," Gwenllian snapped as she shoved the prepared bag into the saddlebags, "but for now I must follow orders and get you out of the city."  Sheathing her sword, she swung herself up onto the horse behind the prince and took the reins.

"I can't leave without them!" Jevan struggled but it was too late.  Gwenllian urged their horse forward into a canter and they sped away.  The horse's hooves clacked against the stone of the courtyard as they headed towards the back gate.  Gwen hoped that they would not have managed to block their exit route through the small streets of the back districts.  For the first time that day, luck was on their side and there were no enemy forces to bar their way and they were out of the city and galloping along towards the Arturian border.

Once they were clear of the city, Gwen slowed the horse down to a walk.  She could feel the young prince's body shuddering against her as he tried to hold back the tears.  Gwen didn't know what else to do except keep pressing forward, knowing that she didn't dare look back towards the city or she too would descend into tears.  The King's face was etched into her vision and she had a sharp pain in her chest that she could not ignore.  She had failed the man she had promised to follow to the ends of the earth.  The only thing she could do now was carry out his final wish; that his son would survive to reclaim his birthright.

It was already dark before Gwenllian felt they had travelled far enough to stop and rest.  Jevan was almost asleep in her arms as she directed the horse off the road and began to search for a place for them to sleep without risking being spotted.  When they were far enough away from the road, Gwen nudged the young prince awake.

"We rest here for a few hours," she said as she got down from the horse and fastened his reins to a nearby tree.

"Where are we going?"  The prince asked sleepily.

"Somewhere safe," Gwen replied, going through the saddle bags and pulling out a compact bedroll and handing it to Jevan.  He clutched the material to him, a confused look on his face.  "Oh for God's sake," she grabbed it back from him and unravelled the roll onto the floor.  "There."  She stalked away towards a dead tree trunk that was lying vertically on the floor.  As Gwen turned to drag it back towards the small area she had chosen for them to spend the night she heard sobs.  Prince Jevan was on the ground, his arms wrapped around his body and tears pouring down his cheeks.  It was only then that it dawned on Gwen that the person she was looking at on the ground was still a boy.  The kingdom had celebrated his thirteenth nameday only a few months previously and the evidence of that was clear to look at.  His face still had the rounded cheeks of a child and despite his advanced height for a boy of his age, he was still slender and had not yet filled out into the stature of a man.  His corn-yellow hair flopped over his contorted face.

Gwenllian had no idea what to do.  She had very little experience of children and had never felt inclined to gain any.  She had brothers who had married and had children but because of her responsibilities she had never really visited them much.  Now that the kingdom's circumstances had change she assumed she may never get to visit them again.

"You'll feel better once you get some sleep," she muttered, dropping the tree trunk a few feet from the prince, drawing her sword and sitting on top of the trunk.  "I'll keep watch."

"They're dead, aren't they?"  Jevan lifted his head and in the moonlight Gwen could see his brown eyes glistening with tears.

"I couldn't say," she responded.

"But when we left the city was falling.  My father wouldn't have told you to take me and run unless he was going to die."

"If the Arturan side lost then your father will be dead."  Gwen knew that was the wrong response the second the words came out of her mouth and she saw Jevan's face fall.  "I'm sorry, we did everything we could."

"You are one of his guard!  You should be protecting him!"

"Don't you think I know that!"  She shouted.  "I would give anything to have been on that battlefield and died trying to protect my King, but that wasn't the path he had in store for me.  Instead I am here with you because that was his final order to me."  For a split second her eyes glazed over with tears and she felt something catch in her throat.  She would not give in to such weaknesses as tears.  "If you think that this is the path I would have chosen then you know nothing."

Jevan was very still, gazing at her for a few moments.  "You're Gwenllian Thorne."

"Yes."

"My mother likes you.  Liked you."  His lip quivered, more sobs threatening to spill over but this time he held them back.  "You are the one she would've wanted looking after me."

"I'm not sure there are many who would agree with her," Gwen muttered.  "You're talking too much.  Sleep or you'll regret it when I wake you up so we can keep riding."

"Where are we going?"  He asked again, this time crawling into the bedroll as Gwen had asked.

"Somewhere safe," she repeated.  "I'll tell you when we start riding if you shut up and sleep."  Part of Gwen was disappointed when she didn't get a response from her charge but mainly she was glad for the silence.  Now she could finally process what had happened to her.  The King was dead.  Her King.  The one she had sworn to protect and lay down her life for.  Yet here she was, still breathing, with barely a scratch on her and a young boy asleep only a few feet away.  "How did I get here?"

It was a very good question.  Five years ago she had been nobody; a mannish woman doing menial tasks for her local lord.  People avoided her.  Even her family were ashamed of her ambitions and begged her to stop training to fight.  "It's not the right place for a woman," they had said.  "You will have no hope for marriage if you continue down this road."  Of course she had ignored them, but that hadn't helped the situation.

Now she was the only woman every appointed to protect an Arturian king and she had no king to protect, only a boy who might one day grow into a man suitable to reclaim what his father had lost.  As Gwen saw it, there wasn't much promise in the young prince.

She cleared her mind of such thoughts.  This was not the time for doubt.  Doubt would get them both killed.  Instead she focused on her surroundings, listening to the rustle of leaves and the occasional cries of hunting owls.  Only once did she hear the sound of hooves on the main road, raising her sword instinctively, ready to defend against any number of attackers.  But the hooves continued along the road, not pausing for a second, and Gwen relaxed back into her sitting position.

It was a cold night but Gwen didn't dare light a fire.  If anyone was following them, as they surely would when the realised the heir to the Arturian throne was missing, she didn't want to let anyone know where they were with such obvious signs as smoke from a fire.

Time dragged by and when the sky began to lighten from black to an inky blue, she decided they had rested enough.  Sheathing her sword she stood, stretching her stiff limbs before wandering over to where Jevan was still sleeping.  She looked down at him, unsure what to do.  With the toe of her boot she nudged the prince's sleeping body.  He stirred but his eyes did not open.  Gwen jabbed at him harder with her boot and he startled awake.

"It's time," she said, turning to the horse, rummaging through the saddlebags for something to feed the animal before they began riding.    When her hunt had proved unsuccessful she turned around to find that Jevan was standing, looking at her expectantly, with the bedroll still on the ground.  "Well aren't you going to pick that up?" She asked.

"I don't know how to."

"You-" Gwen stopped herself just in time.  "Fine."  She marched over to the floor where the bedroll lay and grabbed it from the floor.  "We have some serious work to do," she muttered as she shoved the roll back into the saddlebag.  "OK then, time to get going."

"You said you'd tell me where we were going," Jevan protested as he was lifted back onto the horse.

"And you need to learn to tidy up after yourself.  We can't always get what we want."

It took three days of riding and ignoring Jevan’s moaning before Gwenllian cracked and told him where they were heading.  

“Your father had allies, people he knew he could trust no matter what.”

“People like you?”

“We are finding some of those people.  They shouldn’t be more than another half day’s ride away.  We’ll be there by nightfall.”

“Do I know these people?”

“No more questions,” Gwen snapped, urging the horse from a walk into a canter.  There was only silence for a few moments.

“What happens now?  Did my father plan for this?  He can’t have thought of everything that we would need.  Do we get to go back home soon?  I never liked it when we had to go away for a long time.  I know that I was meant to become king after my father died, but I suppose that won’t happen now.  What are we going to do if we can’t stay in Arturia?”

Gwen sighed and closed her ears to Jevan’s babbling.  After hearing it constantly for the last few days, she’d learnt how to blot it out and focus on her own thoughts.  But that wasn’t exactly safe territory either.  She was ignoring Jevan’s questions because she didn’t have any answers for him.  Every member of the King’s guard had been briefed on what was to happen if the city was to fall to an invading army.  Each soldier had a different safe location to take the prince to following the fall so that they could collect enough supplies to get them across the border and away from prying eyes.

But what then?  There were no specific orders other than to ensure the prince’s safety and train him to become a strong leader so he could be king one day.  That was all.  The King had made no other plans as to how his son was to be raised or how they were to support themselves.  For the first time in Gwen’s memory she didn’t have someone telling her what to do.  She felt hopelessly lost.  How was she meant to look after a young boy when she didn’t know what the next step should be?  Of course there was no one to ask, so instead she had to keep all her doubts and fears inside and keep her focused expression in place.  No one could no.  Especially Jevan.

The prince eventually ran out of questions to ask and the last few hours of their journey passed in near silence, the sound of the horse’s breathing and it’s hooves as they clopped against the road were the only things that disturbed Gwen’s peace.

Shortly before they reached their destination, Gwen directed the horse off the main road and into the trees where they couldn’t be seen.

“Are we stopping?” Jevan asked as they came to a standstill and Gwen jumped down from the horse.

“Not for long.  Just until it gets a bit darker.”  She pulled two cloaks out of the saddlebag and tossed one at Jevan.  “You’ll need to put this on.  I want to blend in as much as possible.”  She threw the other cloak around her own shoulders, the weight of it familiar and comforting.  Her red cloak, which had been part of her King’s guard uniform, had been taken off as soon as they’d left the city.  She missed it’s weight on her shoulders and the black cloak she now donned, although not quite as heavy, was a sufficient substitute for the moment.

Gwenllian looked up and saw the prince struggling with his own cloak.  “Oh for God’s sake, give it here.”  Half dragging him down from the horse she stood him in front of her and put the cloak around his shoulders, fastening the clasp at the front and pulling the hood up to hide his face and blonde hair.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Can you do anything for yourself?”  She asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t tidy up after yourself, you can’t dress yourself.  Have you had everything done for you your entire life?”

“Don’t speak to me like that!”  Gwen could see a hurt look flash in the prince’s eyes and immediately regretted her sharp tone.  “I am your Prince, you shouldn’t speak to me like that.  I could have you executed or put in prison for talking to me like that.”  Just before the first tear spilled over he turned his back to Gwen and strode off.

“Come back,” Gwen strode after him, knowing she couldn’t take her eyes off her charge.  “I didn’t mean it.”  Her tone was still frosty and Jevan kept on walking.  Picking up her speed, Gwen reached out and grabbed Jevan arm.

“Don’t touch me!”  He yelled, loudly enough for Gwen to look around to make sure that there was no one nearby who could have heard his cry.

“OK,” Gwen held her hands back.  “Look, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” Jevan huffed.  “You should treat your future king with more respect.”

“Well at the moment you aren’t the future king of anything,” Gwen mumbled.

“Take that back!”

“It’s true.  Someone else has taken your future kingdom.  Right now you’re the fugitive future king.”

“And you have been ordered to follow me so I am your leader.  You should respect me and do as I say, like you did for my father.”

“Listen up,” Gwen said sternly.  “The reason I followed and respected your father is because he was a good man and an excellent king.  He believed in me when no one else did and he put his neck on the line for me and for that I would go to the ends of the earth for him.  But you cannot order that kind of respect.  Respect like that is earned.  You have done nothing to earn my respect and until you do I will continue to treat you like the child that you are.”

Jevan looked up at her defiantly, trying to pull himself up to her height but falling short despite Gwen being only a handful of inches over five feet tall.  The pair stared each other down, but it was Gwen’s steely gaze that won and Jevan stomped back to the horse.  Gwen rolled her eyes and followed him.

“Are we going then?”  He asked.

“It’s not dark enough.  We’ll have to wait another hour or so before we can approach the town.  I don’t want to risk anyone recognising you.”

“Fine.”  Jevan sat down on a rock with his arms crossed, defiantly avoiding Gwen’s eyes.

“If you want to be like that then it’s fine by me,” Gwen muttered, drawing her sword and sitting on a tree stump a few feet away.

The time passed slowly, Jevan still refusing to acknowledge his guard and Gwen carving lines into the ground with the tip of her sword.  Gwen liked the silence.  For a while she could pretend she was alone.

Eventually it grew dark enough for Gwen to be sure that no one would be able to recognise them in the gloom and put her sword back in it’s sheath, this time hiding it by strapping it to her back underneath her cloak.  The sword was large arming sword, given to her by the King when she became a knight.  It was not a common weapon and made her too easily identifiable if she wore it on display.

“Time to go,” she said to Jevan, who got up without a word and walked towards the horse.  When Gwen moved to help him onto the horse, just as he had every day since they had left the city, he flinched away from her.

“I can do it,” he snapped.

“OK,” she replied, taking a step backwards.  The young prince looked at the beast for a moment before reaching for the saddle and attempting to haul himself up.  Gwen had to use all of her willpower not to laugh at the sight of the boy’s legs thrashing around as he tried to pull himself up with only his upper body strength.  The horse became agitated at Jevan’s movements and began to fidget, getting increasingly antsy until it couldn’t take it any more and jerked so violently away from the prince that he lost his grip and fell with a thud to the floor.

“Woah girl,” Gwen said, grabbing the horse’s reins and gently stroking her neck to calm her.  When the horse was calm again, she looked at Jevan who had picked himself up from the floor and was looking sheepish.  “A good king accepts help from others when he needs it.  He isn’t too proud to admit he isn’t good at everything.”

“OK, then, you can help me.”

“A good king is also gracious about it,” Gwen said huffily, placing a hand on her hip and fixing him with a stare.

Jevan sighed.  “Please can you help me.”

“Of course, your highness,” she said with a sickly sweet smile.  She put a hand out for Jevan to step on and gave him a boost up onto the horse, quickly following him.  “See, that wasn’t so hard.”  Gwenllian smiled to herself as she turned the horse back towards the road.

They were far from the capitol so the roads were deserted apart from the occasional farmer or tradesman, but now that it was dark Gwen knew that even these few travellers wouldn’t be on the roads for fear of bandits.  They didn’t have much farther to travel and Gwen was sure she could protect them if they should be attacked.  A mile or so down the road the gates of a town came into view.  Gwen knew this place to be Caro, the closest Arturian town to the border with their largest neighbouring kingdom, Tahin.  The Queen of Tahin had always been sympathetic towards Arturia and Gwen hoped that this meant she and Jevan would be able to hide there without the authorities trying to hunt them down.

Instead of heading to go directly into the town, Gwen took a dirt road that headed east.

“Why are we going this way?”  Jevan asked a little too loudly for Gwen’s liking and she clamped her hand over his mouth.

“It’s safer,” she whispered.  The dirt road was covered by trees, which made the gloom even darker, blotting out the light from the moon and making  it almost impossible to see into the distance.  Gwen could feel Jevan shrinking back into her, trembling slightly.  “Not much further,” she whispered.

It felt like an age passed before the trees began to thin.  Gwen’s heart jumped when she saw the flicker of a candle in a window up ahead.  Heading directly towards the light led them to stables where Gwen and Jevan dismounted and left the horse in one of the freshly cleaned stalls with a bag of hay already waiting for her.  As Gwenllian was seeing that the horse would be comfortable for the night, taking off her saddle, a wooden door opened and a liveried servant appeared.

“Lady Gwenllian,” he said in a clipped tone.  “You have arrived.”

“Yes.  I believe you’re expecting us.”

“Rooms have been prepared for you.  His lordship and the rest of the family have already retired for the evening and will receive you in the morning.  For now I am to show you to your rooms.”

“Thank you,” Gwen replied and allowed herself and Jevan to be led into the house.