Days 178 and 179 – Writing Exercise

The Prince rescuing a damsel needs rescuing himself

…

I was not in the business of saving damsels in distress.  In fact, I had not seen a damsel in distress.  What I did was live in the shadow of the eldest son and heir to the throne, otherwise known as my brother.

He was the one who would be saving damsels in distress if there were any.

And if he could be bothered.

He had just become a knight after years of training.  It was hard, and as the King said, it would make a man of him.

He looked every bit the man his father had expected of him.  What bothered me was that our father did not expect it of me, and had rebuffed any and all of my requests to train as a knight.

Instead, I got to dress up as a palace guard, not as a Sergeant at Arms, but just a guard.  I had to start at the bottom.  In a job that all the other guards thought was a joke.

There were no wars, no battles, no enemy hordes coming up the side of the hill to storm the castle.  I didn’t think the drawbridge raised or the main gates closed; it had been so long since they had been used.

No, put simply, my life was hell.

I went out to the stables, put on my guard armour, got on my horse and headed for the main gate.  Instead of stopping and reporting for duty, I just kept going.  What was the point?  Who was I guarding the castle from?

…

It was a long and winding road and a warm day.  I was beginning to regret wearing the armour.

I was heading to the next village, half a day’s ride away, and was going to look up Angel, one of the servant girls’ sisters, with whom I had spoken several times.  I liked her, but I didn’t think it went both ways.

I may be a prince, but not one worth marrying.

Up ahead, a man was travelling on foot with a woman.  In the distance, he looked like he was having trouble with her, so I thought I would be chivalrous and see if she needed help

That became more apparent as I got closer.  He was almost dragging her by her hair.

He saw me coming but chose to ignore me.  Even in my armour, I was not as impressive a sight as my brother.

I drew alongside.  He was not treating her well.

“You will treat this good woman more respectfully, sir.”

They stopped, and he turned. “Who are you, sonny?”

“I am the King’s second son, Richard.”

“Yeah, right, and I’m the King’s brother.”

Insolence.  My father rarely tolerated it and had told us it was a problem that had to be handled.

“I am who I say I am.”

“Then prove it.”

I could see he was raring for a fight.  I wasn’t.  Another adage I was taught was not to get involved in fights that didn’t make sense.

“Give me your word of honour you will treat this woman with the respect she deserves.”

He glared at me.  “Respect.  I paid good money for this woman, from the owner who said she was nothing but lazy and indolent.  I intend to teach her respect.”

“No man can own another person.”

He laughed.  “And your King does not own his servants and use them any way he pleases.  You are a fool, sonny.  Go before I put you to the sword for wasting my time.”

He drew his sword and brandished it in my direction.  A direct challenge that could not be ignored.

I slid off my horse, gave him a pat and hoped he would stay put. I walked the ten paces, drawing my sword.  I stopped short of the man, now looking slightly more aware.

“What are you doing?” Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to get off my horse.

“You just laid down a challenge.  Being a gentleman, I cannot let that pass.”

“You’re going to fight me over this piece of garbage?”

“She is a young lady worthy of your respect, sir. If I have to teach you respect, then I shall.”

He snorted, turned his back, and suddenly came swinging his sword.  Unawares, he might have taken my head off.

The girl jumped back out of the way

I was ready, and we exchanged thrusts and parries.  His sword was slightly heavier than mine, and the metal clanged at each blow.

I was dressed for a fight.  He wasn’t.  Nor was he fit, and by the look of him, the worse for wear after many tankards of ale.  He didn’t smell very nice.

We exchanged blows until he collapsed.  Definitely not fit.  I was feeling a little tired too, the exertion under the blue sky making it hot work.

The last thrust had knocked his sword out of his hands, and I pointed the point of mine at his throat.

“I should kill you for being insolent.”

He looked up at me with an odd expression.  “Then get on with it.  My life isn’t worth living anyway.”

I shrugged and withdrew the sword.  “Any other day, maybe.  Not today.  The truth, how much did you pay for this girl?”

“Five coins,” the girl yelled out.  “Don’t let him tell you different.”

“Shut your mouth, wench.”

I dug out 5 coins and put them in his hand.  “Get up and leave now before I change my mind.”

He dragged himself to his feet and shook off the dust.  Looking at her, he muttered, “Good riddance to bad rubbish.  May you never have a day’s luck with her.”

With that, a final glare at her, he walked off.

She sat on the ground and looked at me.  “What now?”

“You’re free.  You can go anywhere you like.”

“You don’t get it.  I’m not free.  No matter where I go, someone will own me.  I mean, where did you come from? Certainly not around here.  No one is free.”

“Well, now you are.”

She shook her head.  “I belong to you now.  You paid for me.  I promise not to be lazy or insolent, not unless you give me reason.”

She stood up and dusted herself off.

“I have no use for you.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Ryebourne Castle.”

“Where the King lives?  Are you really a prince?”

“I’m the second son, and of no importance or has any status.  I have no need for a servant girl.”

“I can be a companion.  You can’t leave me here.  Someone just as bad as Harold, or worse, will take me.  At least with you I’d be safe.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Then take me to the castle, and I’ll sort out my problem myself.”

I didn’t need a servant girl, I didn’t want a companion, though I knew what she was referring to; my brother took servant girls, and others, for his amusement, and I didn’t agree that it was his right.

But I couldn’t leave her there with nothing. 

“The castle.  That’s it.  You can get some work there. I assume you have worked before?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

I helped her up on the horse, then sat behind her.  It might have been my imagination, but she didn’t smell like a servant, but more like the daughter of one of the noblemen in and around the castle.

…

If I were hoping to get to the stables without any sort of recognition, that was dashed in the last few years. 

Normally, I attracted very little attention because I never made a big event of mingling with the ‘peasants’ as my brother called them.

The next King was in training, if he could be called that, with him being seen by the people and being involved in castle matters, was always a big event.

He was the magistrate for minor offences, where the King decided on only serious matters.

He dealt with land matters and the employment of people on the farms and in the castle.  He was also the Master at Arms for the castle guard.

When not on duty, he could be found in the tavern with several of the noble families’ sons.

This day, he was near the stables with two friends, making life difficult for two of the servant girls who just wanted to get home. 

They both knew what he was capable of and what he could do.  So was I, and it wasn’t pleasant, but until the King chastised him, nothing would change.

Then he saw me.  They made their escape the moment his focus changed.

“Well, what have we here?”

His two friends stood behind him, blocking the short journey to the stables.  The stable hand stopped short, not wanting to get involved.

“Have you lost your memory?” I asked, starting with a polite tone.

“Not you, idiot, the young lady.”

“It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“Everything concerns me.  Who is she?”

Good question.  Up till now, I hadn’t bothered to ask for her name.

“Still none of your business.”

I slid down off the horse and motioned to the stable hand to collect the horse.  He came over and took the reins. 

The girl was looking at my brother, and it wasn’t a curious look.  Perhaps his reputation preceded him.

“Wait for me in the stable,” I said to her. To the stable hand, “Go.”

My brother went to stop him, but I stood in his way.  He went to shove me out of his way, but I shoved him first, sending him backwards into the dirt.

I glared at his two friends.  “You’d better leave before it becomes a mess you don’t want to be explaining to the King.”

They didn’t need a second invitation, glancing at my brother, shrugging, then scuttling away.  It was not the first time my brother and I scuffled in public.  A few of the castle people had gathered in groups to watch.

He dragged himself up from the ground and tried to wipe off the dust and dirt.  He was very angry, and the red tinges in his cheeks were the first indication.

“You would have been better off staying on the ground,” I said, with far more bravado than I felt.

“Who is she that you would risk my wrath?”  There was almost curiosity in his tone.

“Not someone who needs your attention.  I simply brought her here to be safe.  Apparently, that isn’t one of your main interests.”

“She’s a disgusting, lowly servant girl.  She’s nothing to you.”

“She’s a person who deserves respect.  I’m sure that’s not a word in your vocabulary, so you wouldn’t understand.  You want a fight, good.  You can teach me another lesson in humility.”

“And the winner takes all.”

With that, he came at me.  I was used to his tactics, once catching me by surprise.  He had no rules, no etiquette, and for a supposed Knight of the Realm, no chivalry, unless among his contemporaries.

I dodged in time as he ran past and had to stop quickly.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the girl standing next to the stable hand in the doorway.

She looked concerned.

He came again, after circling, waiting for that moment when I might be distracted.  Normally, I would be thinking how bad a beating this was going to be.  This time, I was angry.

Not far from me again, I swayed out of the way of his fist and landed a glancing blow that, combined with his momentum, propelled him face-first into the ground, and it made a smacking sound.

Before he could move, I jumped on him, propelling both knees into his back and hearing a satisfying groan as he felt the full weight.

He could not get up, and he could barely move his arms.

I pushed my knees harder into his back.  “Are we done?”

“You’ll regret this.”

“I regret being born second every day of my life.  But I’m darned if I’m going to let you take anything else from me.  You want war, then you’ve got war.”

I got off him and stood up.  Then I dragged him to his feet.  Blood was streaming from several cuts to his head.

“Winner takes all,” I said.  “You’re lucky you didn’t challenge me to a sword fight.”

His squire suddenly appeared, though I suspect he had been watching from close by.  “Come, sir, we need to fix those wounds.”

He glowered at me, said nothing, but allowed the squire to take him away.

I was going to pay dearly for this skirmish.

…

I just stood there watching my brother retreat.  He only turned once, looking at me over his shoulder, a look that I’d not seen on his face before.

A boy trying to be a man, and coming off only as a bully, who just took a beating.  He was the one who, up to now, had handed out the punishment, the big brother, the one we had to look up to.

Losing had never been factored into who he was to become.  The fact that a number of the castle people had seen it wasn’t going to make it go away.

The girl, whoever she was, came over to me.

“No one has ever taken my side in anything.  Ever.  You didn’t have to do that, not against what I think was your older brother.  Eldest son?  If you are a prince, that makes him…”

“A very sore lover.  Don’t remind me.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t see you as a servant, but just another person trying to get on with your life, and we should respect that.”

“That will never really happen.  Kings, Queens, noblemen and women, they believe they have the fundamental right to rule.  The rest are there just to serve them.  We are taught to take what they give us and be thankful.”

I shrugged.  “Don’t include me in that lot.  I might as well be a peasant as a prince.  I have no say and no life to speak of.  Less so, now that I just dented the pride of our next King.”

“Not the forgive and forget type?’

“Cedric?  No.  You’re free now.  If you go to the marketplace, someone there will tell you where there’s some work.  It won’t be safe for you in the castle.  That’s my fault and I’m sorry.  By the way, what is your name?”

She smiled.  “Anne.  You are?”

“Richard.  I’m sorry.  Maybe if I’d left you alone things might be better.  I fear I’ve just made them worse.”

“No.  I’m grateful you rescued me.  At least I discovered there is one person in this realm who cares about what happens to me.  You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.  Besides, you paid five coins for me, so until you sell me to someone else, I’m yours.”

I gave my severest expression.  “Neither I nor anyone else, for that matter, can own another person.”

“Not in your world, maybe, but in my world it’s very, very different.  Until I can work out what I’m going to do next, I want to stay with you.  I’m still, technically, a damsel in distress.”

I shook my head.  I wasn’t going to get rid of her anytime soon.

….

There were several ways to get to my quarters in the castle, mercifully in another wing away from all the others.  Cedric was near the King and Queen.

Elizabeth and Mary, my sisters, were in another part, and I was as far away from all of them as possible.

My quarters were made up of half a dozen chambers, which made it easier to house her away from me.  I was not like my brother, bringing women to his chamber, conveniently forgetting he was betrothed to a princess from a distant kingdom.

I’d considered more than once to take a ride over there and tell her what her prospective husband was up to.  Then, it’s probably what all first sons did.

Bertram, my head servant, was on his way to find me, obviously having heard about the scuffle.  He stopped short when he saw the girl.

For some odd reason, I got the impression he knew her.

“We have a guest, Bertram.  Get the guest room made up.  And find Marion, the young lady, will need some clean clothes, and whatever.”

“Yes, sir.”  He followed behind.  “His Majesty was looking for you this morning.  He seems displeased that I could not tell him where you were.”

“He usually doesn’t care.”

“Master Cedric was also looking for you.”

That explained why he was near the stables.  He knew I liked to escape and go for a ride.  Sometimes I didn’t come back for days.  No one usually missed me

As we entered the main hall of my chambers, my mother was sitting down, flanked by two of her ladies’ maids, looking very regal.  I knew this was the mother who had been sent to give me a strong talking to.

Before the yelling and posturing, my father was going to hand out.

Except when she saw Anne, she stood and bowed her head.

Anne stopped and looked straight at her.  “Hello, Aunty Morgana.”

My mother bowed to no one other than her contemporaries and curtsied only to other Kings.

“You did not send word that you would be visiting.  This is highly irregular.”

“It wouldn’t be if you did not have an ass for a son.”

My mother looked at me.  “I’m sorry if Richard has treated you badly…”

I was still catching up with the fact that Anne was not a servant girl but a princess.

Anne glared at her, “You are seriously mistaken.  Aunt.  It’s Cedric who is the ass.  Richard is the only one who defended me.”

“That is not possible.”  My mother sounded horrified.

“You would be wise not to add to the bad report I am compiling on this Kingdom.  I was told Cedric was a kind and gentle man who had the respect of his people, and he respected them.  He just tried to beat the one person who defended me, no questions asked, in Cedric’s own words, a disgusting, dirty servant girl.   There was no doubt what he intended to do to me if he won that fight.  Now, it’s been an arduous and eventful trip to get here, and I need to clean up.  Aunt.”  For effect, she curtsied, then joined Marion and went to her room.

My mother was left standing open-mouthed.

To say I was astonished was an understatement.

“Where did you find her?”  My mother suddenly found her voice.

“On the road from Oberon, in rather dangerous circumstances.  I did not know she was a Princess.”

“No.  She was never one to trade on her royal status.  Feisty, forthright, and what I had hoped would be an excellent match for Cedric.”

“Well, Cedric burned that bridge completely.  She will want nothing to do with him.”

“And you?”

“I do not rate in the eligibility stakes for any Princess.  I doubt she would give me a second look, let alone a first.  Maybe if she were a servant girl…”

She shook her head.  “You are worthy of better than that.  We shall speak of that later.  Right now, your father is livid.”

“Maybe now he’ll rein in that stupid son and try to turn him into a human being, though I suspect it might be too late.”

“What you did was unforgivable.”

“What I did was finally stop taking his nonsense.  He got what he deserved.  The people have a very low opinion of him, so good luck trying to salvage his reputation.”

“Explain that to your father.  He’s waiting in the throne room.”

…

It was the room where the King handed out punishment.  It didn’t matter whether it was the lowliest serf or a prince.  We all got the same treatment.

There was usually a panel of nobles and officials.

Cedric would be there.  Trying and failing to learn that justice was meant to be fair and equitable and not based on personal feeling.

I changed and went straight there.  Best not to keep them waiting.

Oddly, this time it was only the King, sitting on the throne.  Usually, his Queen joined him, but she was still in my chambers.

He looked up as I entered the room.

I stopped on the edge of the red carpet and stood silently.  Speak only when spoken to.  Do not embellish.  State facts.

Even if he didn’t want to hear them.

“What have you got to say for yourself?”  I wouldn’t say it was the angriest I heard from him, but it was clear he was displeased with me.

“Cedric was being an ass.”

“Cedric is still finding his way.”

Cedric was taught all the wrong lessons when he was too young to know better.  The lesson I learned from my parents’ failure was to take an active interest in my children’s education.

“Cedric will never find his way unless someone with a proper sense of duty takes him in hand.”

“He is the future King.”

“Then maybe the gods will have mercy on us.”

“You would be wise to change your own attitude, Richard.”

The snort escaped before I could stop it.

“You think this is a joke?”

“Cedric is rapidly becoming one in the eyes of your subjects.  What I think is that you should personally take him down to the dungeons and beat him until he promises to be a better person.”

“The people respect him.”

“The people fear him.  And so did I until he finally pushed me too far.  Do you not wonder why three eligible princesses have turned down offers of marriage?  Obviously not.”

Clearly, he had no knowledge of, or hadn’t been told of, his son’s proclivities.  It was not for me to say.

He sighed.  “We will speak more on this later.”

“As you wish.”  I bowed and left a man deep in thought.

…

When I returned, the Queen had gone. 

Marion and her handmaidens were bustling over Anne.  I retired to my chamber and lay down for a rest.  It had been a busy day.

Several hours later, Bernard woke me.  Dinner in the main hall was in an hour, and protocol demanded my presence.

I looked around the room, not for the first time, and wondered why I was there.  Most mornings, I woke without a purpose.

This time, it was to see an astonishingly different Anne sitting in the seat beside the bed, just looking at me.

“You talk in your sleep.”

“Do I?  Anything interesting?”

“You want to be anywhere but here.”

True.  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“I would not have got a clear picture of who you really are, Richard.  Knowing I’m a princess tends to change people in very strange ways.  Being a disgusting, dirty servant tends to get people to behave exactly how the are.  Your brother and half a dozen others like him treated me like scum, you treated me like a princess, and wanted nothing from me in return.  In this place, I’m beginning to see, it’s an impossibility to expect any better.”

“I don’t think it’s like that with everyone.”

“Rot starts at the top, Richard, and evidences itself in the firstborn son.  I live in a world ruled by men, men who take us for granted, and treat us according to whim, not respect.”

“You came here to judge us.” What else could I assume as her reason for visiting incognito?

“I have been to six other kingdoms in the last year.  Not as dramatic an entrance as with you, but things did go a little sideways before we met.”

“You could have been killed or worse.”

“I put my trust in the Gods, and they didn’t let me down.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Go to the hastily arranged banquet in my honour, then go home.  Aunty Morgana has sent word for an escort.  I was hoping you would come with me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think you’re that silly.”

“I thought my mother wanted you to marry Cedric.”

“No, that was never her intention.”

Then it dawned on me.  My mother had known that I was never going to get out from under Cedric’s shadow unless I had a reason to.  Anne was that reason.”

“Would you marry to marry a second son?”

“Would you want to marry a girl who’s always getting into trouble because she prefers adventure to needlework?”

“I’ve only known you for a few hours, enough to know you are infuriating.”

“Then life together isn’t going to be dull, is it?”

It was not.

…

©  Charles Heath  2026

Days 178 and 179 – Writing Exercise

The Prince rescuing a damsel needs rescuing himself

…

I was not in the business of saving damsels in distress.  In fact, I had not seen a damsel in distress.  What I did was live in the shadow of the eldest son and heir to the throne, otherwise known as my brother.

He was the one who would be saving damsels in distress if there were any.

And if he could be bothered.

He had just become a knight after years of training.  It was hard, and as the King said, it would make a man of him.

He looked every bit the man his father had expected of him.  What bothered me was that our father did not expect it of me, and had rebuffed any and all of my requests to train as a knight.

Instead, I got to dress up as a palace guard, not as a Sergeant at Arms, but just a guard.  I had to start at the bottom.  In a job that all the other guards thought was a joke.

There were no wars, no battles, no enemy hordes coming up the side of the hill to storm the castle.  I didn’t think the drawbridge raised or the main gates closed; it had been so long since they had been used.

No, put simply, my life was hell.

I went out to the stables, put on my guard armour, got on my horse and headed for the main gate.  Instead of stopping and reporting for duty, I just kept going.  What was the point?  Who was I guarding the castle from?

…

It was a long and winding road and a warm day.  I was beginning to regret wearing the armour.

I was heading to the next village, half a day’s ride away, and was going to look up Angel, one of the servant girls’ sisters, with whom I had spoken several times.  I liked her, but I didn’t think it went both ways.

I may be a prince, but not one worth marrying.

Up ahead, a man was travelling on foot with a woman.  In the distance, he looked like he was having trouble with her, so I thought I would be chivalrous and see if she needed help

That became more apparent as I got closer.  He was almost dragging her by her hair.

He saw me coming but chose to ignore me.  Even in my armour, I was not as impressive a sight as my brother.

I drew alongside.  He was not treating her well.

“You will treat this good woman more respectfully, sir.”

They stopped, and he turned. “Who are you, sonny?”

“I am the King’s second son, Richard.”

“Yeah, right, and I’m the King’s brother.”

Insolence.  My father rarely tolerated it and had told us it was a problem that had to be handled.

“I am who I say I am.”

“Then prove it.”

I could see he was raring for a fight.  I wasn’t.  Another adage I was taught was not to get involved in fights that didn’t make sense.

“Give me your word of honour you will treat this woman with the respect she deserves.”

He glared at me.  “Respect.  I paid good money for this woman, from the owner who said she was nothing but lazy and indolent.  I intend to teach her respect.”

“No man can own another person.”

He laughed.  “And your King does not own his servants and use them any way he pleases.  You are a fool, sonny.  Go before I put you to the sword for wasting my time.”

He drew his sword and brandished it in my direction.  A direct challenge that could not be ignored.

I slid off my horse, gave him a pat and hoped he would stay put. I walked the ten paces, drawing my sword.  I stopped short of the man, now looking slightly more aware.

“What are you doing?” Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to get off my horse.

“You just laid down a challenge.  Being a gentleman, I cannot let that pass.”

“You’re going to fight me over this piece of garbage?”

“She is a young lady worthy of your respect, sir. If I have to teach you respect, then I shall.”

He snorted, turned his back, and suddenly came swinging his sword.  Unawares, he might have taken my head off.

The girl jumped back out of the way

I was ready, and we exchanged thrusts and parries.  His sword was slightly heavier than mine, and the metal clanged at each blow.

I was dressed for a fight.  He wasn’t.  Nor was he fit, and by the look of him, the worse for wear after many tankards of ale.  He didn’t smell very nice.

We exchanged blows until he collapsed.  Definitely not fit.  I was feeling a little tired too, the exertion under the blue sky making it hot work.

The last thrust had knocked his sword out of his hands, and I pointed the point of mine at his throat.

“I should kill you for being insolent.”

He looked up at me with an odd expression.  “Then get on with it.  My life isn’t worth living anyway.”

I shrugged and withdrew the sword.  “Any other day, maybe.  Not today.  The truth, how much did you pay for this girl?”

“Five coins,” the girl yelled out.  “Don’t let him tell you different.”

“Shut your mouth, wench.”

I dug out 5 coins and put them in his hand.  “Get up and leave now before I change my mind.”

He dragged himself to his feet and shook off the dust.  Looking at her, he muttered, “Good riddance to bad rubbish.  May you never have a day’s luck with her.”

With that, a final glare at her, he walked off.

She sat on the ground and looked at me.  “What now?”

“You’re free.  You can go anywhere you like.”

“You don’t get it.  I’m not free.  No matter where I go, someone will own me.  I mean, where did you come from? Certainly not around here.  No one is free.”

“Well, now you are.”

She shook her head.  “I belong to you now.  You paid for me.  I promise not to be lazy or insolent, not unless you give me reason.”

She stood up and dusted herself off.

“I have no use for you.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Ryebourne Castle.”

“Where the King lives?  Are you really a prince?”

“I’m the second son, and of no importance or has any status.  I have no need for a servant girl.”

“I can be a companion.  You can’t leave me here.  Someone just as bad as Harold, or worse, will take me.  At least with you I’d be safe.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Then take me to the castle, and I’ll sort out my problem myself.”

I didn’t need a servant girl, I didn’t want a companion, though I knew what she was referring to; my brother took servant girls, and others, for his amusement, and I didn’t agree that it was his right.

But I couldn’t leave her there with nothing. 

“The castle.  That’s it.  You can get some work there. I assume you have worked before?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

I helped her up on the horse, then sat behind her.  It might have been my imagination, but she didn’t smell like a servant, but more like the daughter of one of the noblemen in and around the castle.

…

If I were hoping to get to the stables without any sort of recognition, that was dashed in the last few years. 

Normally, I attracted very little attention because I never made a big event of mingling with the ‘peasants’ as my brother called them.

The next King was in training, if he could be called that, with him being seen by the people and being involved in castle matters, was always a big event.

He was the magistrate for minor offences, where the King decided on only serious matters.

He dealt with land matters and the employment of people on the farms and in the castle.  He was also the Master at Arms for the castle guard.

When not on duty, he could be found in the tavern with several of the noble families’ sons.

This day, he was near the stables with two friends, making life difficult for two of the servant girls who just wanted to get home. 

They both knew what he was capable of and what he could do.  So was I, and it wasn’t pleasant, but until the King chastised him, nothing would change.

Then he saw me.  They made their escape the moment his focus changed.

“Well, what have we here?”

His two friends stood behind him, blocking the short journey to the stables.  The stable hand stopped short, not wanting to get involved.

“Have you lost your memory?” I asked, starting with a polite tone.

“Not you, idiot, the young lady.”

“It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“Everything concerns me.  Who is she?”

Good question.  Up till now, I hadn’t bothered to ask for her name.

“Still none of your business.”

I slid down off the horse and motioned to the stable hand to collect the horse.  He came over and took the reins. 

The girl was looking at my brother, and it wasn’t a curious look.  Perhaps his reputation preceded him.

“Wait for me in the stable,” I said to her. To the stable hand, “Go.”

My brother went to stop him, but I stood in his way.  He went to shove me out of his way, but I shoved him first, sending him backwards into the dirt.

I glared at his two friends.  “You’d better leave before it becomes a mess you don’t want to be explaining to the King.”

They didn’t need a second invitation, glancing at my brother, shrugging, then scuttling away.  It was not the first time my brother and I scuffled in public.  A few of the castle people had gathered in groups to watch.

He dragged himself up from the ground and tried to wipe off the dust and dirt.  He was very angry, and the red tinges in his cheeks were the first indication.

“You would have been better off staying on the ground,” I said, with far more bravado than I felt.

“Who is she that you would risk my wrath?”  There was almost curiosity in his tone.

“Not someone who needs your attention.  I simply brought her here to be safe.  Apparently, that isn’t one of your main interests.”

“She’s a disgusting, lowly servant girl.  She’s nothing to you.”

“She’s a person who deserves respect.  I’m sure that’s not a word in your vocabulary, so you wouldn’t understand.  You want a fight, good.  You can teach me another lesson in humility.”

“And the winner takes all.”

With that, he came at me.  I was used to his tactics, once catching me by surprise.  He had no rules, no etiquette, and for a supposed Knight of the Realm, no chivalry, unless among his contemporaries.

I dodged in time as he ran past and had to stop quickly.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the girl standing next to the stable hand in the doorway.

She looked concerned.

He came again, after circling, waiting for that moment when I might be distracted.  Normally, I would be thinking how bad a beating this was going to be.  This time, I was angry.

Not far from me again, I swayed out of the way of his fist and landed a glancing blow that, combined with his momentum, propelled him face-first into the ground, and it made a smacking sound.

Before he could move, I jumped on him, propelling both knees into his back and hearing a satisfying groan as he felt the full weight.

He could not get up, and he could barely move his arms.

I pushed my knees harder into his back.  “Are we done?”

“You’ll regret this.”

“I regret being born second every day of my life.  But I’m darned if I’m going to let you take anything else from me.  You want war, then you’ve got war.”

I got off him and stood up.  Then I dragged him to his feet.  Blood was streaming from several cuts to his head.

“Winner takes all,” I said.  “You’re lucky you didn’t challenge me to a sword fight.”

His squire suddenly appeared, though I suspect he had been watching from close by.  “Come, sir, we need to fix those wounds.”

He glowered at me, said nothing, but allowed the squire to take him away.

I was going to pay dearly for this skirmish.

…

I just stood there watching my brother retreat.  He only turned once, looking at me over his shoulder, a look that I’d not seen on his face before.

A boy trying to be a man, and coming off only as a bully, who just took a beating.  He was the one who, up to now, had handed out the punishment, the big brother, the one we had to look up to.

Losing had never been factored into who he was to become.  The fact that a number of the castle people had seen it wasn’t going to make it go away.

The girl, whoever she was, came over to me.

“No one has ever taken my side in anything.  Ever.  You didn’t have to do that, not against what I think was your older brother.  Eldest son?  If you are a prince, that makes him…”

“A very sore lover.  Don’t remind me.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t see you as a servant, but just another person trying to get on with your life, and we should respect that.”

“That will never really happen.  Kings, Queens, noblemen and women, they believe they have the fundamental right to rule.  The rest are there just to serve them.  We are taught to take what they give us and be thankful.”

I shrugged.  “Don’t include me in that lot.  I might as well be a peasant as a prince.  I have no say and no life to speak of.  Less so, now that I just dented the pride of our next King.”

“Not the forgive and forget type?’

“Cedric?  No.  You’re free now.  If you go to the marketplace, someone there will tell you where there’s some work.  It won’t be safe for you in the castle.  That’s my fault and I’m sorry.  By the way, what is your name?”

She smiled.  “Anne.  You are?”

“Richard.  I’m sorry.  Maybe if I’d left you alone things might be better.  I fear I’ve just made them worse.”

“No.  I’m grateful you rescued me.  At least I discovered there is one person in this realm who cares about what happens to me.  You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.  Besides, you paid five coins for me, so until you sell me to someone else, I’m yours.”

I gave my severest expression.  “Neither I nor anyone else, for that matter, can own another person.”

“Not in your world, maybe, but in my world it’s very, very different.  Until I can work out what I’m going to do next, I want to stay with you.  I’m still, technically, a damsel in distress.”

I shook my head.  I wasn’t going to get rid of her anytime soon.

….

There were several ways to get to my quarters in the castle, mercifully in another wing away from all the others.  Cedric was near the King and Queen.

Elizabeth and Mary, my sisters, were in another part, and I was as far away from all of them as possible.

My quarters were made up of half a dozen chambers, which made it easier to house her away from me.  I was not like my brother, bringing women to his chamber, conveniently forgetting he was betrothed to a princess from a distant kingdom.

I’d considered more than once to take a ride over there and tell her what her prospective husband was up to.  Then, it’s probably what all first sons did.

Bertram, my head servant, was on his way to find me, obviously having heard about the scuffle.  He stopped short when he saw the girl.

For some odd reason, I got the impression he knew her.

“We have a guest, Bertram.  Get the guest room made up.  And find Marion, the young lady, will need some clean clothes, and whatever.”

“Yes, sir.”  He followed behind.  “His Majesty was looking for you this morning.  He seems displeased that I could not tell him where you were.”

“He usually doesn’t care.”

“Master Cedric was also looking for you.”

That explained why he was near the stables.  He knew I liked to escape and go for a ride.  Sometimes I didn’t come back for days.  No one usually missed me

As we entered the main hall of my chambers, my mother was sitting down, flanked by two of her ladies’ maids, looking very regal.  I knew this was the mother who had been sent to give me a strong talking to.

Before the yelling and posturing, my father was going to hand out.

Except when she saw Anne, she stood and bowed her head.

Anne stopped and looked straight at her.  “Hello, Aunty Morgana.”

My mother bowed to no one other than her contemporaries and curtsied only to other Kings.

“You did not send word that you would be visiting.  This is highly irregular.”

“It wouldn’t be if you did not have an ass for a son.”

My mother looked at me.  “I’m sorry if Richard has treated you badly…”

I was still catching up with the fact that Anne was not a servant girl but a princess.

Anne glared at her, “You are seriously mistaken.  Aunt.  It’s Cedric who is the ass.  Richard is the only one who defended me.”

“That is not possible.”  My mother sounded horrified.

“You would be wise not to add to the bad report I am compiling on this Kingdom.  I was told Cedric was a kind and gentle man who had the respect of his people, and he respected them.  He just tried to beat the one person who defended me, no questions asked, in Cedric’s own words, a disgusting, dirty servant girl.   There was no doubt what he intended to do to me if he won that fight.  Now, it’s been an arduous and eventful trip to get here, and I need to clean up.  Aunt.”  For effect, she curtsied, then joined Marion and went to her room.

My mother was left standing open-mouthed.

To say I was astonished was an understatement.

“Where did you find her?”  My mother suddenly found her voice.

“On the road from Oberon, in rather dangerous circumstances.  I did not know she was a Princess.”

“No.  She was never one to trade on her royal status.  Feisty, forthright, and what I had hoped would be an excellent match for Cedric.”

“Well, Cedric burned that bridge completely.  She will want nothing to do with him.”

“And you?”

“I do not rate in the eligibility stakes for any Princess.  I doubt she would give me a second look, let alone a first.  Maybe if she were a servant girl…”

She shook her head.  “You are worthy of better than that.  We shall speak of that later.  Right now, your father is livid.”

“Maybe now he’ll rein in that stupid son and try to turn him into a human being, though I suspect it might be too late.”

“What you did was unforgivable.”

“What I did was finally stop taking his nonsense.  He got what he deserved.  The people have a very low opinion of him, so good luck trying to salvage his reputation.”

“Explain that to your father.  He’s waiting in the throne room.”

…

It was the room where the King handed out punishment.  It didn’t matter whether it was the lowliest serf or a prince.  We all got the same treatment.

There was usually a panel of nobles and officials.

Cedric would be there.  Trying and failing to learn that justice was meant to be fair and equitable and not based on personal feeling.

I changed and went straight there.  Best not to keep them waiting.

Oddly, this time it was only the King, sitting on the throne.  Usually, his Queen joined him, but she was still in my chambers.

He looked up as I entered the room.

I stopped on the edge of the red carpet and stood silently.  Speak only when spoken to.  Do not embellish.  State facts.

Even if he didn’t want to hear them.

“What have you got to say for yourself?”  I wouldn’t say it was the angriest I heard from him, but it was clear he was displeased with me.

“Cedric was being an ass.”

“Cedric is still finding his way.”

Cedric was taught all the wrong lessons when he was too young to know better.  The lesson I learned from my parents’ failure was to take an active interest in my children’s education.

“Cedric will never find his way unless someone with a proper sense of duty takes him in hand.”

“He is the future King.”

“Then maybe the gods will have mercy on us.”

“You would be wise to change your own attitude, Richard.”

The snort escaped before I could stop it.

“You think this is a joke?”

“Cedric is rapidly becoming one in the eyes of your subjects.  What I think is that you should personally take him down to the dungeons and beat him until he promises to be a better person.”

“The people respect him.”

“The people fear him.  And so did I until he finally pushed me too far.  Do you not wonder why three eligible princesses have turned down offers of marriage?  Obviously not.”

Clearly, he had no knowledge of, or hadn’t been told of, his son’s proclivities.  It was not for me to say.

He sighed.  “We will speak more on this later.”

“As you wish.”  I bowed and left a man deep in thought.

…

When I returned, the Queen had gone. 

Marion and her handmaidens were bustling over Anne.  I retired to my chamber and lay down for a rest.  It had been a busy day.

Several hours later, Bernard woke me.  Dinner in the main hall was in an hour, and protocol demanded my presence.

I looked around the room, not for the first time, and wondered why I was there.  Most mornings, I woke without a purpose.

This time, it was to see an astonishingly different Anne sitting in the seat beside the bed, just looking at me.

“You talk in your sleep.”

“Do I?  Anything interesting?”

“You want to be anywhere but here.”

True.  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“I would not have got a clear picture of who you really are, Richard.  Knowing I’m a princess tends to change people in very strange ways.  Being a disgusting, dirty servant tends to get people to behave exactly how the are.  Your brother and half a dozen others like him treated me like scum, you treated me like a princess, and wanted nothing from me in return.  In this place, I’m beginning to see, it’s an impossibility to expect any better.”

“I don’t think it’s like that with everyone.”

“Rot starts at the top, Richard, and evidences itself in the firstborn son.  I live in a world ruled by men, men who take us for granted, and treat us according to whim, not respect.”

“You came here to judge us.” What else could I assume as her reason for visiting incognito?

“I have been to six other kingdoms in the last year.  Not as dramatic an entrance as with you, but things did go a little sideways before we met.”

“You could have been killed or worse.”

“I put my trust in the Gods, and they didn’t let me down.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Go to the hastily arranged banquet in my honour, then go home.  Aunty Morgana has sent word for an escort.  I was hoping you would come with me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think you’re that silly.”

“I thought my mother wanted you to marry Cedric.”

“No, that was never her intention.”

Then it dawned on me.  My mother had known that I was never going to get out from under Cedric’s shadow unless I had a reason to.  Anne was that reason.”

“Would you marry to marry a second son?”

“Would you want to marry a girl who’s always getting into trouble because she prefers adventure to needlework?”

“I’ve only known you for a few hours, enough to know you are infuriating.”

“Then life together isn’t going to be dull, is it?”

It was not.

…

©  Charles Heath  2026

More about my second novel

…

So, what really happened to Worthington?

Did John get reunited with his mother in the hospital?

What of Rupert and Isobel?  Did she get to meet the elusive and enigmatic Tsar?

These are all questions that will be answered in due course.

There is also the matter of what happens when John and Zoe/Irina finally meet up after he learns that she regarded him as expendable, and, knowing her as he did, he didn’t doubt for a minute that she meant it.

Is it the folly of falling in love with an assassin?

Once again, we end up at the grandmother’s residence in Sorrento, languishing sans Zoe, contemplating a future that might not include Zoe.

His idea of setting up an investigation bureau is alive and well, run by Rupert, staffed by people who have the skills but not the confidence of others who had employed them.  Rupert is the master of picking lame ducks and turning them into swans.

Isobel, on the other hand, does not improve with age or being in a somewhat iffy, long-range, possible romance thing.

Does Zoe return? Does she call? Can she drag herself away from her recently rediscovered father?

Again, you’ll have to read the book.

…

More about my second novel

…

So, what really happened to Worthington?

Did John get reunited with his mother in the hospital?

What of Rupert and Isobel?  Did she get to meet the elusive and enigmatic Tsar?

These are all questions that will be answered in due course.

There is also the matter of what happens when John and Zoe/Irina finally meet up after he learns that she regarded him as expendable, and, knowing her as he did, he didn’t doubt for a minute that she meant it.

Is it the folly of falling in love with an assassin?

Once again, we end up at the grandmother’s residence in Sorrento, languishing sans Zoe, contemplating a future that might not include Zoe.

His idea of setting up an investigation bureau is alive and well, run by Rupert, staffed by people who have the skills but not the confidence of others who had employed them.  Rupert is the master of picking lame ducks and turning them into swans.

Isobel, on the other hand, does not improve with age or being in a somewhat iffy, long-range, possible romance thing.

Does Zoe return? Does she call? Can she drag herself away from her recently rediscovered father?

Again, you’ll have to read the book.

…

Day 177 – Things to avoid

…

Write Like a Pro: 3 Common Writing Pitfalls to Avoid

Great writing is like a good conversation: it should be clear, engaging, and easy to follow. However, even experienced writers sometimes fall into habits that obstruct the reader’s experience. To help you sharpen your prose, let’s look at three common mistakes—run-on sentences, overlong anecdotes, and unnecessary Latin phrases—and how to fix them.

---

1. Ditch the Run-On Sentences

A run-on sentence happens when two or more independent clauses are joined improperly, often without the necessary punctuation or conjunctions. They force the reader to hold their breath until they hit a period, which kills the rhythm of your content.

What NOT to write:

“I went to the store to buy groceries for the party but they were closed so I had to go to the neighbor’s house to ask for some sugar and then I realized I forgot my wallet at home anyway.”

How to do it properly:

• Use a period: “I went to the store to buy groceries for the party, but it was closed. I had to go to my neighbour’s house for sugar, only to realise I’d left my wallet at home.”
• Use a semicolon: “The store was closed; consequently, I had to ask my neighbour for sugar.”

---

2. Stop Cramming Stories into One Sentence

New writers often try to pack an entire narrative arc—the setting, the conflict, and the resolution—into a single, breathless sentence. If a story requires more than one sentence to explain, give it the space it needs. Breaking your thoughts into multiple sentences allows the reader to digest the information one piece at a time.

What NOT to write:

“When I was hiking in the Rockies last summer, I saw a massive grizzly bear standing just a few yards away from the trail, and my heart started racing as I slowly backed away, hoping it wouldn’t notice me while I reached for my bear spray, and eventually, I made it back to safety without a scratch.”

How to do it properly:

“While hiking in the Rockies last summer, I saw a massive grizzly bear standing just yards from the trail. My heart raced as I slowly backed away, praying it wouldn’t notice me reaching for my bear spray. Thankfully, I made it back to the trailhead without a scratch.”

---

3. Avoid Obscure Latin Phrases

Using Latin phrases like ad hoc, post hoc, or quid pro quo can make your writing feel pretentious or exclusionary. Unless you are writing for an academic, legal or medical journal, your goal should be clarity. If a simple English word does the job, use it.

What NOT to write:

“We formed the committee ad hoc to handle the budget crisis, but their efforts were ipso facto doomed from the start.”

How to do it properly:

“We formed a temporary committee to handle the budget crisis, but their efforts were inherently doomed from the start.”

Note: If you feel a specific Latin phrase is essential, ensure it is widely understood (like “et cetera” or “per se”), but even then, using plain English is almost always the more professional choice.

---

The Takeaway

Good writing isn’t about how many complex structures you can cram into a paragraph; it’s about how much value you can provide to the reader with the least amount of friction.

Remember:

1. Break up your clauses to avoid run-ons.
2. Give your stories the breathing room of multiple sentences.
3. Choose common English over dusty Latin.

Your readers will thank you for it!

…

Day 177 – Things to avoid

…

Write Like a Pro: 3 Common Writing Pitfalls to Avoid

Great writing is like a good conversation: it should be clear, engaging, and easy to follow. However, even experienced writers sometimes fall into habits that obstruct the reader’s experience. To help you sharpen your prose, let’s look at three common mistakes—run-on sentences, overlong anecdotes, and unnecessary Latin phrases—and how to fix them.

---

1. Ditch the Run-On Sentences

A run-on sentence happens when two or more independent clauses are joined improperly, often without the necessary punctuation or conjunctions. They force the reader to hold their breath until they hit a period, which kills the rhythm of your content.

What NOT to write:

“I went to the store to buy groceries for the party but they were closed so I had to go to the neighbor’s house to ask for some sugar and then I realized I forgot my wallet at home anyway.”

How to do it properly:

• Use a period: “I went to the store to buy groceries for the party, but it was closed. I had to go to my neighbour’s house for sugar, only to realise I’d left my wallet at home.”
• Use a semicolon: “The store was closed; consequently, I had to ask my neighbour for sugar.”

---

2. Stop Cramming Stories into One Sentence

New writers often try to pack an entire narrative arc—the setting, the conflict, and the resolution—into a single, breathless sentence. If a story requires more than one sentence to explain, give it the space it needs. Breaking your thoughts into multiple sentences allows the reader to digest the information one piece at a time.

What NOT to write:

“When I was hiking in the Rockies last summer, I saw a massive grizzly bear standing just a few yards away from the trail, and my heart started racing as I slowly backed away, hoping it wouldn’t notice me while I reached for my bear spray, and eventually, I made it back to safety without a scratch.”

How to do it properly:

“While hiking in the Rockies last summer, I saw a massive grizzly bear standing just yards from the trail. My heart raced as I slowly backed away, praying it wouldn’t notice me reaching for my bear spray. Thankfully, I made it back to the trailhead without a scratch.”

---

3. Avoid Obscure Latin Phrases

Using Latin phrases like ad hoc, post hoc, or quid pro quo can make your writing feel pretentious or exclusionary. Unless you are writing for an academic, legal or medical journal, your goal should be clarity. If a simple English word does the job, use it.

What NOT to write:

“We formed the committee ad hoc to handle the budget crisis, but their efforts were ipso facto doomed from the start.”

How to do it properly:

“We formed a temporary committee to handle the budget crisis, but their efforts were inherently doomed from the start.”

Note: If you feel a specific Latin phrase is essential, ensure it is widely understood (like “et cetera” or “per se”), but even then, using plain English is almost always the more professional choice.

---

The Takeaway

Good writing isn’t about how many complex structures you can cram into a paragraph; it’s about how much value you can provide to the reader with the least amount of friction.

Remember:

1. Break up your clauses to avoid run-ons.
2. Give your stories the breathing room of multiple sentences.
3. Choose common English over dusty Latin.

Your readers will thank you for it!

…

Day 176 – There’s no such thing as writer’s block

…

The Myth of the “Blocked” Writer: Why Terry Pratchett Was Right

“I’m just waiting for inspiration to strike.”

If you’ve spent any time around writers, you’ve heard it. It’s usually accompanied by a dramatic sigh, a stare out of a rain-streaked window, and a total lack of actual words on a page. We call it “writer’s block.” We treat it like a divine affliction—a spiritual wall that descends upon us, rendering us incapable of stringing a sentence together.

But what if the wall isn’t real?

The late, great Terry Pratchett once famously quipped: “There’s no such thing as writer’s block. That was invented by people in California who couldn’t write.”

It’s a brutal take, but it’s one that every professional should consider. If we strip away the romanticism of the “tortured artist,” what we’re left with is a simple truth: Writing is a job, not a mood.

The Comfort of the “Block”

Why do we cling to the idea of writer’s block? Because it’s an incredibly comfortable place to hide.

If I tell myself I have “writer’s block,” I am absolved of all responsibility. I’m not lazy; I’m “blocked.” I’m not failing to meet a deadline; I’m “waiting for the muse.” It transforms a technical failure—my inability to organize my thoughts or commit to a draft—into a mystical psychological condition.

The reality is that “writer’s block” is usually one of three things:

1. Fear: You’re afraid the words won’t be perfect. Perfectionism is a form of procrastination.
2. Lack of Preparation: If you don’t know what happens next in your story or your article, you haven’t done the heavy lifting of outlining or research.
3. Fatigue: You’re tired, and your brain is telling you to take a break. That’s not a block; that’s just biology.

Writing as a Blue-Collar Trade

Pratchett wasn’t belittling the difficulty of writing; he was elevating it to a craft. He treated writing like a plumber treats a leaky pipe or a carpenter treats a frame. When a plumber has a pipe to fix, they don’t sit in their van waiting for the “spirit of plumbing” to descend. They pick up a wrench and get to work.

If you sit down to write and the words aren’t coming, don’t call it a “block.” Call it “the hard part.”

The hard part is where you realise your opening paragraph is weak. The hard part is where the middle of the essay sags. The hard part is showing up at 8:00 AM, staring at a blinking cursor, and deciding to write a bad sentence just to get the gears moving.

How to “Unblock” (Without the Drama)

If you want to move past the myth, stop waiting for the lightning bolt. Try these, provided you’re willing to do the work:

• Write garbage on purpose: Give yourself permission to write the worst first draft in history. You can’t edit a blank page, but you can fix a bad paragraph.
• Lower the bar: Sometimes the block is just a result of trying to write a masterpiece in the first pass. Aim for “functional” instead of “brilliant.”
• The 15-Minute Rule: Commit to writing for just 15 minutes. No distractions. Usually, the resistance vanishes once the momentum starts.
• Break the outline: If you’re stuck, it’s likely because you’re trying to force the story in a direction that doesn’t make sense. Revisit your notes. The problem is usually structural, not spiritual.

The Bottom Line

There are days when writing feels like pulling teeth with a pair of rusty pliers. That’s not a block—that’s just the cost of doing business.

So, next time you feel that familiar resistance, don’t look for an excuse. Don’t blame your environment or your creative juices. Pour a cup of coffee, sit down, and accept that writing is labour. As Pratchett knew better than anyone, the only way to get through the “block” is to write your way out of it, one word at a time.

What do you think? Is “writer’s block” just a fancy excuse, or is it a genuine psychological barrier for you? Let me know in the comments.

…