Royal Quarry Read Free Page B

teach you,” Manning heard himself say. “Somebody taught me how to shoot, and I can teach you.” What was he doing? Assuaging his guilt? He just couldn’t bear to see Albert looking so unhappy.
    The rest of the day was spent at target practice. Manning set up a target on a tree a short distance from where they were. He strung Albert’s bow for him and demonstrated the best way to hold the arrow and how to aim. Albert was a willing student and showed some promise, but he was hesitant and lacked confidence.
    Being sure to first obtain the prince’s permission, Manning stood behind him to reposition his arms as he bent back the bow. He could swear he felt Albert lean back into him slightly as he came close, reminding him of their contact yesterday at the fallen tree. He could feel Albert’s shallow, nervous breaths against his chest. The boy’s whole body was trembling as he pulled the string back.
    “Relax,” Manning suggested, his voice quiet, right above Albert’s ear.
    “I can’t,” said Albert, “I’ll drop the bow.”
    “You don’t need every muscle you have to hold the string taught.”
    “… how?” asked Albert.
    Manning didn’t respond in words. Instead he slowed his own breathing, placed a hand on the top of Albert’s shoulder, ran it gently down his side, showing him. With his body flush against Albert’s, he could feel the extra tension begin to leave him. Albert’s neck and shoulders relaxed. His breathing slowed to match Manning’s. They stood together like this, Albert’s bow drawn, poised, relaxed. Manning could smell lilacs and sandalwood in the young man’s hair, still detectible under the earthy scent a night in the forest had given it. As he relaxed, Albert’s slender body came to lean against his with a trust that was beguiling.
    Manning could feel his face growing warm and flushed. His pulse quickened, and the beginning of an erection began to push at the front of his uniform. He stepped back suddenly, embarrassed, lest his arousal become apparent. This was not going well; his reaction was even stronger than it had been at the fallen tree. He would have to keep some distance between them. He couldn’t afford to be attracted to the king’s only son.
     When Manning stepped back, as if a spell had been broken, Albert simultaneously tensed up and released the bow. The arrow flew yards to the left of the target.
    Manning cleared his throat in an attempt to cover his awkward retreat. “Yes,” he said, “that was very good.”
    They kept practicing, and the whole day they didn’t move a step from where they’d stopped for lunch. We’ll have to get there tomorrow , thought Manning, as he built the evening’s campfire. No more stalling .
     
     
    A LBERT ’ S arms hurt. His shoulders hurt. Even his hands hurt. He knew they would only hurt more the next day, but he felt good, better than he had in a long time. His aim was still by no means consistent, but he occasionally hit the target, and sometimes his shots seemed almost good. Manning had praised him so sincerely when he had sunk his first arrow into the tree that he was still smiling about it.
    Part of Albert was still worried about how much he had told Manning. He hadn’t meant to hand the bodyguard such a powerful weapon against him—it would only take a few questions from his father: what did my son say to you on your trip? You were alone with him for all those days and nights; come, surely he said something? Albert’s confidence had been betrayed by such questions to his servants before. He knew he could not trust Manning to lie for him, and yet he hadn’t been able to stop himself. This was always Albert’s problem. If he tried to show a little of himself, he could never hold back the rest.
    Albert shivered a little as he lay back on his blanket. It was a cold night, and the fire was doing an excellent job against the dark, but less so against the chill. Manning crouched again, catlike, not far away. Did the man