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people, foremost you.”
    “That is not what my father thinks, and it is his uniform you are wearing.”
    “Your Highness, you asked me earlier to be your bodyguard, and I will do it; I will protect you.”
    “But that is not until I am king. You are being treasonous again,” said Albert, and this time there was no humor in the accusation. Manning could feel his frustration building. He couldn’t stand to see Albert so set on putting himself in danger and submitting to his father’s plans.
    “Please, Your Highness,” he said, his voice sounding less calm than he had hoped, “we will figure out a way for you to return home without going through this ordeal.”
    Albert sat up and turned around to face Manning. He no longer looked scared. He looked determined.
    “I have seen what my father does to servants who do not follow his orders,” he said. “I will not have it done on my account.”
    “I see,” said Manning. He was damned if he’d put Albert in danger on his account, either. They stared at each other for a few moments, and then Albert lay back down.
    “We leave first thing tomorrow for Morania,” he commanded, his voice as princely as Manning had ever heard it.
    “Yes, Your Highness,” said Manning. What could he do?
     
     
    T HE next day was a miserable one for Albert. Manning woke him up as the sky was just beginning to lighten; they hadn’t slept for more than a few hours. There was no repetition of their argument from the night before, nor any vestige of the familiarity that had grown between them. They hardly spoke as they ate the little food that they had left and set out.
    Manning led the way, his face grim. Albert felt like a fool. How had he let himself believe there was someone he could trust? It was nothing but a fantasy: big, strong arms to hold him, a man capable and devoted who could keep him safe. He couldn’t expect anyone to accept the danger there would be in playing such a role for him. His mind filled with images of Manning at his father’s mercy, Manning bleeding on the floor, Manning suffocating under Albert’s hands. The idea sickened him.
    Still, Manning’s lack of solicitude today upset him. Albert knew he was giving the man no reason to show him any friendliness or affection. Albert himself had done his best to reassert his rank, to be formal and professional with his guard. It was better this way, easier to think of this betrayal as by his father, not his friend. All the same, he wished Manning would break down the wall Albert had built between them. He takes orders much too well , thought Albert, no wonder my father favors him .
    Manning kept the pace swift, sometimes turning around to offer deferential yet insistent encouragement to Albert when he started to lag. By the time they stopped for lunch Albert was completely exhausted. He felt worse than he had on any of their previous days of hiking, and he fell asleep briefly while Manning found them some food.
    They didn’t linger long over their meal, and by mid afternoon, as the sun was starting to get low in the sky, Albert could barely stay on his feet, much less continue hiking over the uneven ground. Manning took his small pack from him, hoisting it onto his shoulder with his own, which helped Albert keep going a little longer.
    “Aren’t we in Morania by now?” Albert finally asked when Manning came back to help him over a small brook in their path.
    “Almost,” said Manning, “we want to be sure to be far enough into the forest to attract their attention.”
    So they kept going. But when evening truly came and the red glow faded from the sky, Albert couldn’t go any more. He sat down on the ground, drained of all energy and emotion, unable to think, unable to worry, just thankful not to be moving.
    Manning turned back around, looked down at the collapsed prince, and said, “This is far enough.”
    Manning began to build a fire, but Albert was asleep before it was lit.
     
     
    W HEN Albert woke up he was