Nomad {Editing}

::Chapter 26:: Wild Horses

If he'd had his way, wild horses wouldn't have been able to drag Charlie from his Arthur's side.

Unfortunately wild horses had nothing compared to Robert.

Charlie caught his brother's hand mid air before he had realised that either of them had moved. He gripped it and turned his head, an almost robotic movement followed by a growl. He said nothing, only took his brother's gaze with his own and glared.

A lesser man would have flinched. Robert is no lesser man.

"You need to leave," his words weren't unkind, yet still left little room for argument.

His brother's eyes were alight with something that Charlie couldn't quite put his finger on. It was dark and steely, unfaltering as he met Charlie's gaze and refused to let it go.

Taking his brother's gaze with his own, a growl echoing from his chest which seemed to dance across every wall as it echoed down the hospital wing. Several nurses and doctors looked up nervously, though they didn't move, willing to protect their patients till the end.

Charlie regarded them with a less then calm look, and held himself together.

This was not the place to do something stupid, and as much as he hated to admit it. His brother had a point.

Even if he wanted to tear Robert limb from limb for trying to force him to do something he didn't want to.

For a moment Charlie didn't move, it was as though his feet had been glued to the ground. The need to refuse overtook everything, and he could feel himself begin to lose against logic. I need to get out of here, Charlie almost agreed.

The red had almost overtaken his vision, when he made a decision at last.

And ripped his wrist from Robert's grip.

Charlie spun on a heel and made his way down the corridor. Not looking back as he went. Despite the urge which screamed at him to stay by his injured brother, do everything in his power to keep him safe.

But what little was left of his logic knew that Arthur would be in more danger if Charlie stayed.

Pushing past the beds stacked high with the injured and ill, he made his way back down the corridor and down the stairs. Back to the still chaotic world of the main hall to the palace, and into the fray.

He needed to find a way to make himself helpful, and he didn't care what it took to do it.

Even if the stench of blood was slowly choking the air from his lungs and force the darkness into his head.

Dodging through the mass swarm of bodies blocking the way, he found his way to a somewhat familiar face. One of his father's lieutenants, who regarded him with a less then kind look. Which Charlie pointedly ignored.

"Get me out of here," his words were devastatingly simple. A stark contrast with the darkness in his eyes which would have made the devil turn tail and run for his life. "Give me something to do, or I will explode."

There was no might about it, he wanted to minimise the casualties whilst he still could.

"You know where the cells are," was his less then friendly response. Charlie didn't blame him for having other things to be concerned about in that moment in time. But Charlie would only add to his troubles if he stayed put for much longer.

Too risky, Charlie thought. I don't care what the people down there have done, they don't deserve me. His fingers clenched into fists, and he fought the need to plunge it into the face of the lieutenant. "Anywhere but there," he explained no further.