The Boy From The Forest

“Your Majesty.”

“Yes, Chamberlin.”

“We had a messenger arrive today from King Beauford of Prudoe. To celebrate the engagement of his daughter, Princess Icelandia, to Crown Prince Eric, they will be coming on a state visit. They will be here in a week.”

“We will be having visitors?” The Queen had appeared in the door.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“This castle has been needing a good cleaning. Put all the servants to work; I don’t want Princess Icelandia to see a speck of dirt when she gets here.”

The King was pleased that The Queen was having the castle cleaned. When people from other countries were coming, you wanted your country to look its best. You wanted the castle to be the cleanest castle in the world. And you wanted your army to be the biggest, toughest army in the world. You wanted the women in your country to be the prettiest women in the world.

The King looked at a small doorway, which led to a narrow corridor. There stood Johanaston. He was not offering any comment, not asking for any of The King’s attention. You also wanted your wizard to be the… What? The creepiest wizard anywhere. That is what he had, at any rate. The King could remember his Grandfather The King saying that Johanaston was exactly the same then as he was at the Battle Of The Stone Tree, long years before. And Johanaston was the same now as when The King had been a little boy. It did not bear thinking about.

Johanaston was pleased. Narrython and the kingdoms allied with it formed a sort of federation that allowed civilization to grow.

[Johanaston. I know you can hear me.]

[Who is this? I have requested communication with no one.]

[You know who I am.]

[Yes, by all the elder gods in the outer darkness, I know who you are. You have no right to contact me like this.]

[Johanaston honey, I just want to help you.]

[You have no right to call me that. I don’t care if you are the oldest sister of my dear old Mother. I disavowed you before Those Who Question. I spent considerable time telling all that you had done wrong.]

[I understand that you had to do that. Everybody knows what went wrong with my project. What nobody knows is that there were other factors. Things which those in power refuse to hear about.]

[Is this about the Shadrachians? As you called them.]

[Johanaston, they are real. If I had not done what I did, the Shadrachians would have enslaved the people on McKinstry’s Planet and forced them to toil in the mines in the Ghenna Asteroid Belt. Believe it or not, what did happen was preferable.]

[I am sorry for what happened to you. Here far from the Galactic Core, I can say that.]

[Johanaston, the Shadrachians are coming to your planet. A small contingent, but it is them. You will have to deal with them somehow.]

The contact began to fade. Johanaston would not have known what to say in any event.

A few days later.

“Norman honey.”

Only one person ever called him that.

“Yes, Mother. I was just shooting arrows at these hedge apples”.

“Norman honey, why in the world are you doing that?”

“Mother, hedge apples are these big green lumpy things that grow on hedge trees. They are not good for food, for people or livestock. Totally useless. They deserve to have arrows shot at them.”

“Norman honey, it is time to get ready. Put that away and get ready for your bath.”

Norman groaned inwardly. After he took a bath, he was not allowed to do anything that might make him sweat or get him dirty. But there was no help for it. To his bath, he went.

Eric was drying himself off. As the Elder Son, it was his right to use the bath water first. After that, Norman got a turn. Eric considered spitting in the bath water, but he was in kind of a hurry. He had to put on a bunch of fancy clothes, so he could sit around with a bunch of old people and talk about silly things. Yes, his future bride, Icelandia, would be there. She was really pretty; that was what everyone said. But this was just the engagement party. The wedding was a few months away. There was absolutely no chance of stealing a kiss.

The audience was over, and Sir David was in a new army. Sergeant Nolting was an older knight waiting for The King to dismiss Sir David. He motioned with his head for Sir David to follow him.

They came to a barn and barracks. “You will be in The Fifth. They are on maneuvers now, and you will meet them at supper. There are some empty beds in the barracks. Now to set you up with a horse.”

Sergeant Nolting shouted into the barn. “Hey, Spike!! Get out here!”

A youth with brown hair and dull eyes appeared. He stood there without saying anything.

“Sir David needs a horse. Go bring Desmond.”

The dull-eyed youth continued to stand there. “Do it now!!” Further instructed Sergeant Nolting. Finally, Spike moved into the interior of the barn.

Sergeant Nolting turned to Sir David. “I have to go. Fletcher has some issues with the latest batch of arrows, and I need to get over there. You can introduce yourself to Desmond.”

Sir David was left alone in the courtyard of the barracks and barn. That was fine, there was a well there. Sir David found an old bucket and drew a bucketful of water. First, he drank some. Then he poured some over his head. Finally, he dumped the rest of it all over himself. It trickled around under his armor in a most delightful way. It was as much of a bath as he’d had since spring of last year.

“Hey, new guy.”

Sir David turned around. There was no one there. Had Spike the dull stable boy spoken from inside the barn? That did not seem right. Whatever.

Sir David was drinking the last little bit of water in the bucket when he heard:

“So you’re not going to talk to me? I didn’t think you looked stuck up, but I guess I was wrong.”

Sir David spun around. The only living thing was a horse that had come over to the fence. “Whoever you are, come out and look me in the eye. Don’t think you can hide all day.”

“Who’s hiding?”

That came from in front of him and a little to the right. Sir David turned to his right. Just the horse was there.

“That’s right; you’re getting real warm.”

As if there wasn’t enough to worry about, the horse was moving his lips around in a really funny way. It was almost like …

“The horse is talking. That’s right, Sir David; I am your horse, Desmond. I thought I would come over and say hello.”

“Horses can’t talk. You stop that right now.”

“Oh, where you come from, the horses aren’t smart enough to talk. That is true for some of the people there as well. But here in the court of The King, we can all carry on a very nice conversation.”

“Alright, maybe you can talk, but I am still the master. You have to go where I say and like it.”

“We all have our place in society. If The King or Sergeant Nolting says do something, you will jolly well do it. If you tell Spike the stable boy to do something, he will do it. Actually, he probably won’t do it half right, but he is supposed to obey a knight. My point still stands.”

The new knight and his horse continued to discuss things in and around the court of The King. Desmond knew most everybody, and he knew how to avoid the worst troublemakers.

A few miles away.

The royal procession of King Beauford was proceeding along the road. An hour or so ago, they had left his kingdom of Prudoe and entered the kingdom of Narrython. King Beauford was riding a cream-colored stallion with golden highlights. The stallion wanted to run as fast as he could all over the countryside, and King Beauford had to hold him back. In an ornate oxcart rode his wife, Queen Margaret, with their daughters, Icelandia and Vixania.

Princess Icelandia rode with all regal dignity. She was glad to get out and see more of the world, since a beautiful princess was not allowed out of the castle very often. Icelandia‘s sister Princess Vixania, had wavy red hair, and she was bouncing all over the oxcart. She was four years old.

Princess Icelandia was sixteen years old. She was of medium height, with a slim but feminine build. Her golden blonde hair came almost to her waist. And her eyes were blue. Very blue. Her eyes were blue like the winter sun reflecting from a glacier on a clear winter day. Men had got lost in those eyes and never found their way back.

“Mother, I thought there would be crowds of cheering commoners out to welcome a visiting princess. There is nobody here but the people in our procession.” There was a company of King Beauford’s finest knights riding before and after the oxcart. The procession smelled of horse and oxen.

“Icelandia, that will be when we get to the capital of Narrython. This is the countryside.”

“Look, there is someone looking at us.” Princess Vixania pointed to an old cow in the pasture. The old cow was watching all the people on the road with her big dumb eyes.

Princess Icelandia gave the cow her best gracious-royalty wave. She needed to keep in practice.

A short while later, the royal procession arrived at the gate of the castle of The King of Narrython. The trumpets blew an ear-splitting fanfare, and the drums boomed. The King himself came to the drawbridge to bid them enter.

Prince Eric approached the royal oxcart. It was silly to dress up an oxcart like that. The whole oxcart was festooned with tiny little flowers, pink, blue, and white. Eric had to give words of welcome to his future bride. His Mother The Queen had spent the last two hours making him memorize the words of welcome.

“Pruncess Iceland, I doth bid thee welcome unto our kingdom. I doth look forth with trepidation unto the time when we will be bound in awful dreaded wedlock.” Everybody tried not to laugh at Eric.

Everyone smiled graciously at everybody else. In the castle, the celebration began. There was plenty of Concordian Wine for everyone. Prince Eric discovered that while he could fill his cup as often as he wanted, his cup was this little bitty thing that looked like it belonged in a girl’s tea party set. The King did not want Eric to get roaring drunk.

The band started to play a lively tune. Princess Vixania loved it; she was bouncing up and down. Everybody thought she was cute.

The King made an announcement. “Welcome one and all to this engagement celebration. In keeping with our customs, the first dance will be the future bride and groom.”

Eric was caught flat-footed. That happens when you do not pay attention. After an embarrassingly long time, he rose from his seat and clumped over to where Princess Icelandia was standing. He took her small white hand and led her to the center of the dance floor. The King nodded to the band, and they started to play a very lovely tune.

Prince Eric took Princess Icelandia into his arms. She started the first steps of a waltz, but something was wrong. Prince Eric stood there, rooted to the spot. She pinched his bicep, none too gently. Finally, Prince Eric began to sway back and forth, just a little. Princess Icelandia looked out a window, too embarrassed to look at anyone.

Later that evening.

Everybody was dancing. The King and The Queen were dancing together. King Beauford and Queen Margaret were dancing together. For just a moment, The King and King Beauford were dancing together. “He stepped on my foot. I’m going to declare war.” Shouted King Beauford with glee.

Prince Norman danced with little Princess Vixania, but then she deserted him for a little boy her own age. Norman looked up, and there was Princess Icelandia, just standing there. Prince Norman wordlessly extended his hand. She took his hand, and they began to dance.

Everyone was having a roaring good time. Most of the guests had abandoned the Concordian Wine and started drinking Stygnian Ale. A knight from Narrython and a knight from Prudoe were fighting. But they were using goose feathers for swords, so it really did not much matter.

The two Kings stood together surveying the festivities. Their kingdoms had always been allies, and this marriage would strengthen that. Their people were mingling freely. And over there was the lovely Princess Icelandia dancing with… Norman?

They talked about everything. They talked about the songbirds that flew in the air. They both agreed that there would be a lot more songbirds if the cats would quit eating them. They spoke of the wheat fields, how they always smelled of wild garlic. They talked about the wandering peddlers who sold little trinkets in the towns and villages.

The King looked at them. This could be A Problem. It would be better if Eric stepped up and reclaimed his fiancé, but he was drunker than an outhouse rat. Never mind, The King would take care of it.

Two days later

“Norman, get up!!”

“Father, the guests have all gone. You can’t make me take another bath!!”

“You are going to visit Aunt Reba and Uncle Ron. They live WAY out in the country.”

“Father, what are you doing?”

“The deer have been eating your Uncle Ron’s wheat. Bring your bow and arrows; you need to kill each and every one of those deer. Don’t come back until you have got them all.”

Odd, the deer in that area were very scarce. What was Father trying to say?

Ohhhh. Icelandia. He had just meant to be nice to a guest. But they had a very nice time together, and that was just not allowed. Off to Aunt Reba and Uncle Ron’s house he went.