Shame

Once, many many moons ago, there was a prince of a grand kingdom. He cared a great deal for the subjects of his kingdom, and would regularly travel among them, listening to their problems and lending aid wherever he could. His denizens loved him, and depended on his generosity. He was glad to give what he had for their prosperity.

One morning, before he had even woken from his slumber, the grand duke burst into the room. "Dear prince, dear prince!" he shouted, shaking his shoulder. "The grand duchess has gone missing!"

"She's probably just out for the day," replied the prince. "Perhaps she's gone on a walk?"

"She was gone all of yesterday, too," the duke whinged. "She walked out yesterday without a word to anyone. You have to find her and bring her home!"

The prince knew that the grand duchess was known for running off and shirking her responsibilities. Several times, he'd had to shoulder all of her duties to ensure that the kingdom remained stable. She relied on the prince's generosity and care for the kingdom to ensure that she did not need to work, as long as the queen wasn't looking.

Taking his trusty bow and mighty machete, the prince left his kingdom in the care of the grand duke. The queen was to return on Friday, two days away. The grand duke could handle things until then, for sure.

He rode out across the kingdom to where the grand duchess had been spending all of her time lately, where a group of bards masquerading as missionaries had set up camp. The leader of this group had been attempting to woo the grand duchess, and the prince had seen it. While he would have been happy to be rid of the grand duchess, the queen would most assuredly send him after her, so it was better that he found her before her trail went cold.

When he arrived at the camp, the bards were gone. By the state of things, it was pretty clear that they'd left recently, within the last few hours, and had been in a bit of a rush when they were packing up. Several things had been left behind, marring his magnificent kingdom with an array of litter. While he would have normally been so appalled by the sight of this scar across his lovely landscape, he had to push that feeling aside for now.

The tracks for the group took off to the northeast, across the country, not following the roads at all. No doubt, it was to keep them from being followed. They were afraid of him tracking them, and rightfully so. Kidnapping a grand duchess was a heinous crime, but being the prince, he could overlook it if he so chose, and if the grand duchess wanted to stay with them, then he would. Unfortunately, the bards did not know that.

The prince took off after them at a brisk pace. He was alone, and at his last count, they had been just over twenty strong. He would move faster than them, for sure. As long as there was no storm to cover their tracks, he would catch up with them eventually. Still, he wanted to find them fast. The sooner he caught up to them, the sooner he could return to his kingdom and protect them. He had confidence that the grand duke could run things during his absence, but were there some sort of emergency, he would rather be there to ensure the kingdom's safety.

For two weeks, the prince chased them down. At times, he would need to stop for a rest, and they would need to stop for supplies. At multiple intervals, he would come close, and they would bolt in the opposite direction to be as far from him as possible. At the end of the two weeks, he was so close that they knew they were caught. They set up a temporary arrangement in the middle of a field and waited. Less than half an hour after they stopped, a mere five minutes since they had finished their final defenses, the prince rode into their camp.

"Let me speak with your leader," commanded the prince. "I would prefer that we settle this through our words."

With two arrows pointed to him, the prince walked into the tent to speak with the leader of the bards. "You have been chasing us with an insatiable bloodlust across these sands," huffed the bard leader. "Now you wish to speak?"

"I have no such bloodlust," answered the prince. "I have come to ask for the return of the grand duchess. If you return her to me, then I shall leave you in peace, and you will be free to wander the lands without my interference."

The leader of the bards laughed. "We don't have the grand duchess," he bellowed. "She left the day before we did. I offered her my eternal service, and she turned it down without a thought. I am sorry to say, highness, but you have been chasing the wrong group this entire time."

"I don't believe you," growled the prince. "She must be here."

After giving the camp a thorough search, the prince sat down next to a pillar. The bard had been telling the truth, and there was not so much as a trace of the duchess. Not so much as a hair from her head was found. The bards packed up their camp around the prince as he just sat there, unable to move for the longest time. By the time he was ready to stand up again, the camp was long gone.

The prince walked back home, a heavy burden on his back. He'd failed to bring home the grand duchess by wasting his time chasing the wrong caravan, and had nothing to show for it but splinters and scars. It took him three weeks to return home, partially because of his heavy heart, and partially because a storm had kicked up the sand and blown away the path, leaving him to wonder if he was even going the right way.

Finally, after what seemed like an endless walk, he found himself crossing the border into his kingdom, though it took him a bit too long to notice. The fields had been torn up, the bodies of his beloved subjects were scattered about, and his castle had been reduced to rubble. While he had been away, the grand duchess had called in a group of barbarians from a neighboring kingdom to ransack the place. His home, his people, and all he cared for in the world was now lost to him.