The Boy Who Would Be King

The two princes, Aldhyn of Rhealmyrr and his cousin Alejandro, the younger brother of Rafael and second son of Rhowyn, Duke of Navarre, had climbed to the top of Castellayne’s tallest tower to discuss how to “borrow” their grandmother’s flying carpet.

How do we know if it still works? Asked Alejandro.

Aldhyn shrugged. We don’t... And we never will if we can’t think of some way to get into Aldhyrwoode’s rooms without being seen. The carpet will be guarded by more than locked doors.

Sorcery?

Wizards are famous for it.

Then there’s the raven, said Alejandro, Ovidieu.

And Shadow. Don’t forget Shadow.

That cat gives me the creeps. It’s older than Grandfather! How is it not dead yet?

Aldhyn didn’t know. The wizard’s familiar could talk, but no one, as far as he knew, had ever thought to ask it.

We could stuff him into a sack, said Alejandro, and throw him in the moat.

Which one? Asked Aldhyn. Shadow? Ovidieu? Or the wizard?

Alejandro thought the plan might work for all three.

As temperamental as any Don, the always ardent Alejandro had acquired the habit peculiar among the people of Navarre of waving his hands around when he was speaking. Emphatically underlining every third or fourth word with a wagging finger, or a clenched fist, a chopping motion, or holding both palms open to the sky as if beseeching the fates. Aldhyn had learned to keep a safe distance from his too easily excitable older cousin, and waited until Alejandro was clutching the edge of the stone step they were sharing before leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

Alejandro looked surprised. What was that for?

Do I need a reason?

It’s not like you to be so... impulsive.

That wasn’t exactly true. Aldhyn could be cautious, and sensible, but he was also Robin’s grandson, with the same taste for adventure. Flying to the fortress city of Jal Naghrahar on Queen Saavi’s magic rug had been his idea.

One game of Dragonmhyrr, he said, rolling his eyes, and suddenly I’m the boring one!

The game almost lasted a week! Alejandro exclaimed. And I’ll never get those hours of my life back!

Aldhyn laughed. Oh, poor cousin! Think of all the pretty maids you might have tumbled!

That’s it!

What’s it?

We lure the old fox out of his den with a bit of skirt!

Aldhyn shook his head. I’ve never seen Aldhyrwoode look twice at a girl.

A boy then.

Or a boy.

Not even you?

Certainly not me!

Or me, said Alejandro. Why do you think that is?

Aldhyn shrugged. He’s old. Any wood in the alder shrivelled a long time ago.

How sad, Alejandro said. To love and to be loved by so many, and yet...

To never have that someone special, said Aldhyn. Am I your someone?

Alejandro winked. You’re one of them.

Clothed in dark colours and armed with talismans against the wizard’s magic, the two princes crept silently into Aldhyrwoode’s chambers. Aldhyn knew them like the back of his own hand, but in the pitch black of midnight he was suddenly lost. His foot caught the leg of a chair and it scraped on the flagstoned floor.

The wall sconces suddenly flared. Blindingly bright.

Why not just ask? Said Aldhywoode, regarding them from the arched doorway of his atelier. It would have saved you going to all this bother.

You... You knew. Said Aldhyn. And then wondered why he should be surprised.

There are no secrets in Castellayne, said Aldhyrwoode.

He scratched Shadow under the chin where the cat sat, smugly perched, on his shoulder.

Or anywhere else, Alejandro muttered.

Come back tomorrow, said the wizard. Both of you. The rug will be ready and waiting.

Aldhyn looked doubtful. Just like that? No lectures? No warnings? No promises to be careful?

Don’t take sweets from strangers, said Aldhyrwoode. Try not to get into too much trouble. And come back in one piece. Alive if you can. But, no. No lectures. All young men should have at least one great adventure in their lives.

Queen Saavi insisted on sending her personal guard with them. Bannock son of Bowden, grandson of Balon O’Byrne, was only some few years older than the two princes, and was yet to have his own “great adventure”.

King Robin and Aldhyn’s mother, Princess Marisanne, were there with Aldhyrwoode to see them off. The stairs to the top of the wizard’s tower were too many for Saavi, but they could see her waving from an open window as they circled the royal keep.

Aldhyn had learned how to control the magic carpet with his mind. He thought about the window and his grandmother and the rug hovered just below the ledge.

Come with us, he said, and held his hand out to her.

Saavi shook her head. Oh, no. I couldn’t. You go. I’ll stay here with my slippers and my comfortable chair.

A whirl around the castle then? To The Greenwoode and back?

No, no. Really. It’s sweet of you to think of me. But I really can’t.

Aldhyn could see how much his grandmother wished she could. Just one last time.

All right, he said. When we return. To The Greenwoode and back. It’s a promise.

He and Alejandro both kissed her goodbye.

Sir Bannock kissed the back of her hand, ever gallant. Perhaps I should stay? Your Majesty might need me.

No, she won’t. Said Saavi. And she shooed him away saying, Go. Take care of my grandsons. If I know Alejandro, he’ll need you more.

Jal Naghrahar was a lapis lazuli gem set against a golden backdrop of rugged sandstone cliffs and surrounded by emerald jungle. After a week in which they’d almost been trampled by a herd of elephants, swore to never eat the food again, ate the food again, were kicked or bitten or spat on by camels, chased a monkey that had light-fingered Aldhyn’s purse of coins through a crowded bazaar of hawkers and beggars only to lose it, and themselves, in the twisting turning alleyways of the old city, had rescued Alejandro from an enormous eunuch whose only purpose in life was to guard the Maharajah’s hareem, were kicked and bitten and spat on by the women of the hareem when they tried to drag Alejandro away from them, and were stalked by a tygre of the most fearful symmetry, Bannock decided he’d had enough excitement, and the two princes agreed with him.

Alejandro was the first to notice. So large and brightly coloured were the sunflower yellow pennants of Rhealmyrr that normally streamed from their tall poles high above Castellayne’s towers, that they were ominously conspicuous by their absence.

Something’s wrong, he said.

Someone must have died, said Aldhyn, who could think of no other reason for the flags of the kingdom to have been taken down.

Not Grandfather, said the sharp eyed Alejandro, recognizing the figure of King Robin waiting for them to land on top of the wizard’s tower with Aldhyrwoode beside him. See? My father, too. And my brother. Your mother’s there, Aldhyn. And mine.

And Her Majesty? Asked Sir Bannock.

No, but... She wouldn’t be. The stairs.

I’m sure Grandmother’s perfectly fine, said Aldhyn.

One of her ladies in waiting had found Queen Saavi sitting, sleeping she thought, in her chair by the fireside. A slipper had fallen off, and when the girl had tried to put it back on, Saavi hadn’t stirred.

Felix Ulveus, exiled from Greyshale, set sail for parts unknown. But then brown-skinned children from the New Worlde began appearing in the slave markets of Qin Xa.

The young Petroan, Xanis of Synax, marched into the forests of Darkelyn to hunt the Horned Men. He and his phalan of eight hundred vanished without a trace.

Bjern Bearskinner lived to see a (great) grandson on the throne of Rhealmhyrr, though the circumstances of Aldhyn's conception were never forgotten.

Bjern and Harald Hard-arse were thought to have perished during a voyage to the snow bear glaciers after their longship became trapped in the ice.

Queen Freya of Greyshale was succeeded by her sister Freida's oldest of seven sons. His name was Harald.

Sir Roger of Delthemhyrr, Robin's boyhood friend, passed away peacefully in his sleep a week before his one hundredth birthday. A father, grandfather, great grandfather, and great great grandfather.

The years saw Prince Aldhyn seated on the throne of Rhealmyrr, and Rhowyn's oldest son, Rafael, wear the crown of thorns of Navarre. With his brother Alejandro as his Marshall.

The roads between Castellayne and Kaldiz were seldom empty with all the comings and goings. There were fetes, and feasts, and tourneys.

But with each passing season, Robin became more and more withdrawn. And Aldhyrwoode began to worry.

Robin and Aldhyrwoode walked into the enchanted glade together.

There was no sign of the nymph, Annaed.

Or the giant woodsman who guarded the sacred pool.

It was a hot day, and the long walk had tired Robin. He sat with his back against the trunk of a flowering hawthorn, the sweat on his brow cooling in the welcome shade.

I’ll just close my eyes for a moment, he thought to himself. Just for a moment.

Awaking some time later, he couldn’t help thinking his boots had shrunk.

They definitely looked smaller.

And not just his boots, but the feet inside them!

Wake up! He told himself. You’re dreaming!

He shook his head to clear it.

The hand he used to wipe the sleep from his eyes looked different somehow.

He held it up in front of his face. Then the other.

They were a child’s hands!

What illusion is this? He wondered aloud.

He crouched beside the sacred pool, about to splash water on his face in the hope of banishing this strange, fevered, dream and...

He saw his reflection gazing back at him.

It was a child’s face!

My sweet Robin Redbreast, said a voice he knew instantly.

It was the maiden.

Annaed! Robin exclaimed.

Did I startle you? I’m sorry.

No, said Robin. Yes. We were playing, weren’t we? I don’t remember falling asleep, but I... Where is the old man? Asked Robin, looking around the glade. He was here. I’m sure he was. He had a long white beard and... He walked with a staff but... I don’t see him now.

The greybeard will visit us again, said Annaed. Do not fret.

She stood before him. The most beautiful vision he had ever seen. Her long flaxen hair woven with wildflowers. A chain of tiny white daisies graced one slender wrist. Twists of green ivy were tied around her ankles. Her skin was pale, and smooth, and as perfect as the finest porcelain from far Cathay. A land the prince had only heard of. Though he couldn’t think where. Or from whom. Her lips were a rosebud. Her blue eyes sparkled like starlight.

For sooth, he said. Tell me blithe spirit, are you real or faerie?

The maiden smiled. I am as real as you are, she said.

I had a dream, said Robin. My father died and I was the king. I married a princess from a far away land... There was a great battle...

The maiden silenced him with a kiss and stroked his hair.

Come and lay with me, she said. The clover is sweet and the bees will not trouble us.

There was the rustle of fallen leaves and the giant woodsman came out of the forest.

Hello! He called. The young master has returned to us, I see. Look who else I found!

He was holding a green leather halter. A butternut-grey pony trotted along behind. The pony saw Robin and whinnied, tossing its shaggy head.

And what of the wizard Aldhyrwoode?

You might ask for him at The Drowned Duck.

The End