The Heart of a King
(A Tale of Faith)
by
Candace Christine Little
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Copyright 2011 Candace Christine Little
Smashwords Edition
Cover art by Billee Kae Little
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Chapter 1: A Secret Meeting
Light, shining out from the edges of the doors to the throne room, pierced the midnight darkness of the palace hallway and caught my attention. Not quite an hour before, I had set foot in Windsal for the first time in many months, and as much as I was looking forward to the happy reunions a long absence always brings, I was looking forward even more to the incomparable comfort of a good night’s sleep in my own bed. But I found myself drawn to the light, and curiosity triumphed over comfort. I opened one of the doors and peeked in.
My brother, the king, was pacing back and forth in front of the thrones, hands clasped behind his back. I stepped into the room.
“King Artemerio,” I said.
With a start, Artemerio turned toward me. He strode forward, a smile spreading across his face as he drew near.
“Welcome back, Prince Barto,” he said. But then, rather than stopping when he reached me, he rushed past, his royal robes flapping wildly around his feet. “Follow me,” he said over his shoulder. With hardly a pause, he threw open the throne room doors and charged outside, leaving me in stunned silence.
“Follow you where?” I asked as I caught up with him. “You are acting very strangely. And why are you awake at this hour? Has something happened?”
He glanced at me, and I could see, even in the dim lamplight, that he was extraordinarily pleased.
“I have been waiting, Prince Barto—waiting for answers—waiting for you—and now you have returned. At last!”
“Oh—it all makes sense to me now. Did someone spot my ship and bring word to you that I would be arriving tonight? Is that why you are awake? Please don’t tell me you want to hear a report on the Unconquered Lands at this hour. Ordinarily, I might be persuaded to give such a report.” I softened my tone. “I know how much it means to you. But honestly, I could lie down right here on this cold, hard, drafty floor and be sound asleep in minutes. That sounds perfect, in fact.” I stopped walking.
Artemerio took a few steps beyond me, but then he stopped and looked back. “I received no word of your return. I was not expecting you at all. I am awake because I am having trouble sleeping. I have had trouble sleeping for this entire month. And the Unconquered Lands are the last thing on my mind. We have something much more important to discuss.”
I started walking again, alert with concern. “What has happened? Are you ill? Perhaps a trip to Lagal—”
“No, I am not ill. I am perfectly fine in every way, except...” He paused and glanced around.
“Except?”
In almost a whisper, he said, “Except that I’ve had strange dreams.” He looked at me and seemed to be studying my reaction to his words.
“Strange dreams?”
“Yes. Very, very strange.” He said nothing more, and I got the impression that I should save my questions until we reached whatever destination he had in mind.
A few hallways later, I began to have some idea of where he was taking me, and my guess was proven right when he pushed open the door to the library, crossed the room to a particular bookshelf, and triggered the secret panel behind the bookshelf to open. After grabbing a torch from the library wall, he led the way into the secret room, where the charts and maps of Windsal and of the known world were kept.
“Take that map—there,” King Artemerio said, pointing, as he lit lamps in the room and set his torch in its place.
I unrolled the map that was on the large table in the middle of the room. It was a map of islands I had never seen before.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“I don’t know where the islands are or what they are called. I have only dreamt of them—but in such detail that I could draw this map.”
“Have you discussed this with Prince Vestero? Surely in his role as chief of the Royal Guard he’s learned—”
“Prince Vestero says he knows nothing about these islands.”
“I suggest again to you a trip to Lagal. Perhaps the elders or...” I let my suggestion trail off. Artemerio was shaking his head.
“The map is to be kept a secret. Only you, Queen Folasade, and Prince Vestero are to know for now.” He gestured toward a chair and, once the two of us were seated, continued. “The Great King has an important quest for me—for us. We are to sail for these islands as soon as the time is right.” He paused and looked at me very strangely, as if I were not reacting as he’d expected. “I was to draw this map exactly as I’d seen it in my dreams. And I was to wait for your return. And now you have returned. So...go ahead. Tell me everything. Explain away. I am eager to hear what you know.”
“I don’t know anything,” I said.
“That can’t be right. Here, have another look at the map. I’m sure you must know something.” His tone expressed a surprising level of certainty; he seemed so certain, in fact, that for a moment I wondered if I might actually know the things he expected me to know. But his certainty was not powerful enough to give me answers I simply did not have.
“This is the first I’ve heard of any of this,” I said.
He studied my face as if he did not believe me. Then he frowned slightly. “So it appears,” he said. “Queen Folasade and Prince Vestero have also had strange dreams. You are sure you have had no strange dreams? Perhaps you just weren’t paying attention to them. Any little detail may be important.” He stared at me expectantly.
I waited a moment before answering, trying to recall anything that might help. I could see how desperate Artemerio was for some small clue. But I had none to give.
“Who doesn’t have a strange dream now and then?” I said. “But I know the difference between dreams that are the bizarre creations of the imagination and disagreeable foods and dreams that are...dreams that feel like they are an answer to a question one hasn’t yet thought to ask. I haven’t had any of the sort of dreams you are interested in for quite some time—not since I left on this last journey, anyway.”
Again he studied my face. Then he frowned a little more deeply. “So you haven’t.” An uncomfortable silence followed.
“I don’t understand. Why were you so certain I would know something?” I said, anxious to learn the reason for his obvious distress.
He raised his downcast eyes and stared at me as he struggled to explain. “Everything I’ve told you has…has come to me in the strange dreams I mentioned…including the part about waiting for your return. You’ve been the first part of it all that could be…that could be tested, and if your part proved true, then—”
“Then you would take it as a sign that you could trust the rest of it. I see,” I said.
Artemerio nodded glumly and looked away.
“I’m going to make a guess here that the dreams are not keeping you awake,” I said. “Your doubts and questions about them are.”
Artemerio shifted his gaze toward me. “Funny…Prince Vestero said much the same thing. And he reminded me of Black Rock Forest and said something about trusting and not seeing and...something...something...” He shook his head and waved away the thought. “I have forgotten. He says so many things. But Barto, what you don’t understand is the tremendous risk involved in this...dreaming. No—I can guess at the objection you are about to make. You had those strange dreams, too, before we were sent to solve that riddle. I remember. But without those dreams, we would still have gone on the quest; they were a confirmation, not a call to action. In this case, the dreams are the only reason I have for setting sail for these mysterious islands. So…what if I’m wrong about…about everything? The map, the…the secrecy...” He paused. “I was wrong about you, apparently.”
“What about Prince Vestero and Queen Folasade? You said they’ve had dreams, too.” I hoped his answer would have a stabilizing effect on both of us. In my desire to make sense of the situation, I had begun to question whether his old longing to be an adventurer was really the source of whatever dreams he’d been having. As strongly as I’d been affected by his certainty, so I was affected by his doubt. I did not like the back-and-forth feeling at all.
“None of our dreams are anything alike. And I am the only one who has seen the map and been told about the quest. I—” He stopped speaking and sat still, staring off beyond my shoulder. Then he looked at me. “I can’t not do the things I’ve seen. The dreams will not let go of me, and I cannot let go of them. But there is nothing at all outside of my own thoughts that validates them. I was hoping you...” He smiled half-heartedly. “You know what I was hoping. But I’ve kept you awake long enough. You’ve humored me beyond what kindness demands at such a late hour. I trust I will see you at breakfast? I am eager to hear your stories of the Unconquered Lands.”
“I’ll be there,” I said, in some ways less concerned about the king’s sleeplessness and in some ways more. I hesitated to leave, but Artemerio turned his attention to a wooden box on a nearby shelf. As he dug through the scrolls inside, I slipped out of the room.
***
“Where is Queen Folasade? And Prince Vestero? I’d hoped they would join us this morning,” I said as I sat at the king’s breakfast table the next day.
“Queen Folasade has business to attend to away from the palace,” said King Artemerio as he passed me a plate of what looked like raspberries. “Here. You must try this. Quite extraordinary. And Prince Vestero may be anywhere—or anyone! His disguises constantly change, and I can never quite keep track of him.”
A silver-haired servant with a large wart on his nose appeared at King Artemerio’s side with a tray of various meats and silently served him. His movements were nimble and quick.
I took a bite of the bright crimson fruit Artemerio had handed me, but I did not recognize the taste right away. Only after a few more bites did I exclaim, “Patience! You are right. It is unremarkable at first taste, but a short wait yields a most extraordinary flavor.” I took a few more bites and waited eagerly for the burst of delicious sweetness.
“Pardon me, Prince Barto,” said the servant as he moved toward me with the tray of meats. “I believe I heard you ask about the whereabouts of Prince Vestero this morning. He is closer than you think, I am sure. Meat?” He held the tray just out of reach and made no move to serve me, so I moved closer to him and lifted the serving forks from the tray. But before I could aim the forks toward any portion of the meat, the servant pulled the tray slightly backward and toward himself, as if to discourage my actions.
“I’m sure I am breaching a number of rules of palace etiquette, but if you will hold the tray still, sir, I am perfectly happy to serve myself,” I said.
“Meat?” he said again.
I hesitated briefly but then aimed the serving forks toward the neatly stacked cold cuts, which were growing more enticing by the minute. But again the servant moved the tray slightly backward.
“Meat?” he said.
I studied the servant’s expression, but he gave me no clue as to how to proceed: his look was neither reproving nor encouraging. I returned the serving forks to the tray and held my plate toward him.
“Yes, I would like meat,” I said. The servant did not move. “Please?” I added, beginning to wonder if Artemerio was having him play some sort of joke on me. I glanced at Artemerio, but though he certainly looked amused, he also looked puzzled.
“Meat?” said the servant.
“Oh! No, not yet, thank you,” said Artemerio. “When the queen returns,” he whispered.
The servant nodded almost imperceptibly. Then he bowed and left the room, taking my hopes for the cold cuts with him.
“King Artemerio, I must protest,” I said. “What reason could you possibly have for sending away—”
“That was Vestero,” Artemerio whispered, warning me with his eyes to be silent.
And then I realized the servant had been saying the word meet not meat. That Vestero would go to such trouble to recommend a secret meeting was not surprising; that Artemerio would take one of his elaborate schemes seriously was. I nodded and changed the subject.
***
Once King Artemerio and I were in the secret room of maps and charts waiting for the others to arrive, I said, “I have some news I think you’ll want to hear. I could hardly stand to keep it to myself during breakfast.”
“Yes, yes. Go on,” said Artemerio, giving me his full attention.
“I had dreams last night about the islands you showed me.”
Artemerio leaned toward me. “Tell me everything. Don’t leave out a single—”
The noise of the secret panel opening cut short our conversation. Prince Vestero, still wearing the silver-haired wig and the mask with the wart, accompanied Queen Folasade into the room.
In accepting the title of queen, Folasade had left her title of Lady Wisdom behind, but in her presence, the unmistakably lovely fragrance of wisdom hung in the air as a delightful perfume.
King Artemerio stood. He crossed the room, took Queen Folasade’s hand, and kissed it. “My Queen,” he said, gazing at her adoringly.
The queen curtsied elegantly in response, still holding the king’s hand, and said, “My King.”
Prince Vestero bowed and walked toward the table. “If I may be so bold, Your Majesty…we have much to discuss.” He pulled out a chair at the table but remained standing, signaling, through his posture and unwavering stare, his intent for the king and queen to join him.
“Of course,” said Artemerio. He and the queen moved toward the table, and I took my seat. Prince Vestero pulled off the wig and the mask with the wart while King Artemerio and Queen Folasade settled into their chairs.
“The Elders of Lagal will be here tomorrow for a secret meeting with the four of us,” said Prince Vestero.
“The elders?” said Artemerio. “Coming here? Why?” Then he smiled, and excitement lit up his eyes. “Do you think it has something to do with the dreams?”
“I don’t know,” said Prince Vestero. “A Lagalian warrior brought the message, and he did not say. And such an air of secrecy surrounds the whole affair that I am not to share information regarding the time and place of the elders’ arrival even with you.” King Artemerio seemed ready to object, but before he could, Prince Vestero said, “Your Majesty, I am under orders.”
“Then of course you must keep your secrets,” said Artemerio, somewhat begrudgingly. But then a new thought seemed to take hold of him. “Should we be alarmed by such secrecy?”
“Secrecy is hardly a thing to be feared,” said Prince Vestero. “Think how it builds an appetite for discovering what has been hidden. Think how it deepens the joy of…” He glanced at Artemerio’s face and must have noticed the confused slant of the king’s eyebrows and the impatient pursing of his lips. “We would be wise to behave with extra caution. I’ve assigned extra guards to you and the queen, and I will personally oversee your protection from now until the meeting. Prince Barto, you should stay close to us at all times.”
“Extra guards? Personal protection? I have a feeling you know more about the danger than you have revealed,” said King Artemerio.
“Dunley is on the move,” said Prince Vestero. “Something about all of this has caught his attention. I know no more than that.”
Chapter 2: The Wooden Box
“Dunley!” said Artemerio.
“Yes,” said Prince Vestero. “We must be careful. And we should keep the map and scrolls locked in their box. We cannot trust that even this room is safe from Dunley or his spies. And with the elders visiting! I’m sure you understand. So if there is nothing pressing that you need to discuss with me, King Artemerio, I would like to go finish preparations for the elders’ visit.”
“Of course,” said King Artemerio. “But first, you should know that Prince Barto had dreams about the islands last night. I’m sure you must be as eager as I to hear what he has to say about them.”
“Ah, yes!” said Prince Vestero. He turned to look at me. His face was serious. “Then do you know why we were to wait for your return, Prince Barto?” He and Artemerio stared at me intently.
“No,” I said. Both men exhaled heavily, as if each had been holding his breath.
“Well, we won’t be discouraged, will we, Your Majesty?” said Prince Vestero as he offered King Artemerio a cheerful smile. “Not yet does not mean never. Dictionaries and clocks both attest to that.”
Prince Vestero’s good humor, as always, was infectious, and I felt the doubts I still had from my first talk with Artemerio slipping away.
In one swift movement, Prince Vestero rose from his chair and pushed it back into place at the table. “But speaking of clocks...I will have to hear about the dreams at a later time. I must finish the preparations for the elders. King Artemerio, if I may be so bold—”
“You usually are,” said Artemerio.
“Quite right,” said Prince Vestero, “but I do try to phrase my boldness respectfully, Your Majesty. Therefore—if I may be so bold, I suggest that you and the queen spend no more time in here than is absolutely necessary. You should do nothing out of the ordinary that might draw unwanted attention to yourselves. And we should have Prince Barto read the scrolls of our dreams and study the map. Perhaps the elders will address them. Or perhaps the dreams and map will trigger some memory or thought for him that will unlock the mystery. And we mustn’t let our expectations limit what we are willing to accept as an answer.”
Artemerio seemed to be thinking about something. He didn’t answer right away, but when he noticed Prince Vestero looking at him, he said, “Yes, of course. Expectations are quite confining, I suppose.”
“And dangerous,” said Prince Vestero.
“Would you like for me to write down the dreams I had last night?” I said.
“A very good idea,” said Prince Vestero. “I will be off now.” He looked at King Artemerio. “If I may be so bold, that is.”
Artemerio nodded. “I do intend to take your advice about doing nothing out of the ordinary. But I think it would be more out of the ordinary for me to pass up the chance to hear about the Unconquered Lands than for me to stay too long in the secret room. What will I tell the poor souls who have listened to me rattle on about Prince Barto’s return? They will expect me to be fully informed by the end of the day. I know they will.”
Prince Vestero chuckled. “Oh, yes. I have been one of those poor souls. You are correct. You must have something to tell about the Unconquered Lands after this meeting.”
“But of course I will only stay long enough to learn enough to…to satisfy the people,” said King Artemerio.
“Of course,” said Prince Vestero with an only half-suppressed smile of amusement. He bowed. Then he turned to me and said, “Welcome back, Prince Barto,” before he nimbly and quickly disappeared through the secret panel, again wearing his silver-haired wig and his mask with the wart.
King Artemerio lifted a dark wooden box from a shelf—the box he’d been searching through the night before—and set it on the table in front of me. As I stared at the intricate designs carved into the wood, Artemerio produced a key from some hidden spot and laid it beside the box.
“Before you begin your stories…here. Keep this key with you at all times,” he said. His face took on a grave look. “All of our dreams have been recorded and stored in this box. The map I showed you is also rolled up inside, along with blank scrolls you may use to record your dreams.” The grave look passed. “Now then, what can you tell me about the Unconquered Lands? The people—and my darling wife—desperately want to know.”
“Is that so?” I asked, turning to Queen Folasade.
Queen Folasade smiled and said, “The people and his darling wife desperately want you to tell him your tales, Prince Barto, though I think the king misunderstands the reason.”
“I can guess the reason,” I said, laughing softly at the thought of what Artemerio must have been like while he waited for my return. But then, in the most serious tone I could maintain, I said, “Have you considered that he may be worse once he has been told? That he will impose on listeners with endless repetitions of the stories he learns?”
“I have considered it,” said the queen, mimicking my tone. “But I have decided we may grow wiser from the repetitions of the stories.” She silently reached for the hand of the king. Her voice softened as she said, “But perhaps you have misunderstood my deepest motive. I so desperately want you to tell him your tales because I know how much he wanted to see the lands for himself. I have not forgotten what he gave up to become king.”
“A small price to pay for what I’ve gained,” said King Artemerio, and he gazed at the queen with loving admiration. “Prince Barto, you heard the queen. We both agree that I should hear of the Unconquered Lands. So begin your stories.”
***
The king and queen asked question after question about all I had seen long after I’d finished my tales. At last, Queen Folasade reminded King Artemerio that they would be expected in the throne room soon.
“And I think you’ve learned enough to satisfy the people,” she said with a teasing, charming smile.
Artemerio nodded. “Thank you, Prince Barto. That was an excellent account of the journey. I could almost feel the steamy air of the forests you described. And I can picture the strange broad leaves of the trees.” He sighed happily. “I almost feel I have been there myself.”
“Filimo sketched examples of the landscape and of a number of the animals, flowers, and trees we saw,” I said. “He hoped to submit his drawings to your library by the end of next week.”
“Perfect,” said King Artemerio. He and the queen moved toward the secret panel. “Stay in here as long as you like. We will most likely be in the throne room when you finish.”
“It is good to have you back with us, Prince Barto,” said Queen Folasade. She extended her hand to me, and I clasped it between both of mine with great affection. She was as dear to me as any sister ever could have been.
“Thank you, my Queen,” I said.
“Is there anything you need from us?” asked King Artemerio.
“If it’s not too much trouble, will you send me some lunch?” I asked. “Those cold cuts Prince Vestero was serving earlier today looked delicious.”
***
Writing down all I could remember from my dreams didn’t take long, and Prince Vestero, still playing the part of the silver-haired servant, brought lunch to me shortly after I finished.
“I didn’t mean for King Artemerio to send you,” I said to Prince Vestero as he set the tray down near me. “I’m sure you have more important things to do.”
“Nothing more important than keeping your work in here a secret,” said Prince Vestero. “Not even the most trusted member of the Royal Guard can have a hint of what is in that box. But while I have a chance, I want to hear about the dreams you had about the islands.” He sat down. “I can’t stay long, so please—summarize succinctly.”
“Easy enough,” I said. “In my first dream, I saw the islands as they are on the map King Artemerio showed me. In fact, my entire dream was a view of the map. The view kept changing as something like a dark cloud—or perhaps a shadow—spread over the drawn islands. The dark cloud spread and grew until it covered all the islands, completely blocking them from my view. In my next dream, I saw the islands as though I were hovering above them from a great height. As I watched from above, something like a dark cloud again spread over the islands. Somehow I knew that the dark cloud was a terrible thing. I also had the impression that I was seeing...something of the past...something that had happened long ago. That dream ended when I could no longer see the islands for the darkness covering them. In my final dream, I was on one of the islands—in a huge crowd of people, standing in the darkness. And it was no longer the past. Then, suddenly, Dunley was holding all of us—the whole huge crowd—all of us—in the palm of his hand, and he was closing his fist. I knew he planned to crush us. That was the end. My distress was so great that it woke me.”
“Troubling,” Prince Vestero said as he rose from his seat. “Have you read through any of the other scrolls yet?”
“No, not yet,” I said.
“They all have a feeling of urgency about them. I have dreamt of some sort of battle or war.”
“And you think the dreams are...” I wasn’t sure how to express what I wanted to say. “Perhaps I dreamt of the islands because King Artemerio showed me the map last night. And perhaps King Artemerio has dreamt of these islands because he so wanted to travel to the Unconquered Lands.” I paused, still trying to collect my thoughts. “What I mean is, I can explain many things—perhaps even this whole box of scrolls—away. Do you think we are—”
“Do I think we are imagining things? Making too much of these dreams?” said Prince Vestero. I nodded, and Prince Vestero continued. “Doubt is a dark window that will filter out even the most miraculous of sights and make them appear to be less than they are. Those who prefer such windows will find what they want to find and little else: justification for their doubt. But those who want to find truth will insist on a window that lets in plenty of light.”
“But—how does one know the difference between seeing a sight that is altered by a dark window and seeing a sight that is exactly as it appears?” I asked.
He hesitated a moment before answering, not as if he didn’t know the answer but as if he were choosing his words with great care. “Those who like their dark windows will not dare to ask for light.” He nodded in the direction of the wooden box. “Read the scrolls for yourself. And dare to ask for light.”
Prince Vestero bowed and left.
***
I stayed in the secret room pacing and reading, reading and pacing well into the night. Prince Vestero brought me dinner and returned to remove the dishes and trays of food, but he did not stay long or interrupt my reading other than to point out one or two particularly intriguing dreams.
After I’d read through all the scrolls once, I felt compelled to read them again and again, as if memorizing the details would make them all fit together and make sense. I formed one theory after another about what they might mean, but each new theory canceled out the last until none of them remained. An answer to the mystery presented by the dreams seemed to be just out of reach—like when a word is on the tip of one’s tongue waiting to be spoken but one’s mind struggles to release that word.
“What is the answer, Great King? Are these dreams from you?” I found myself asking aloud as I sorted through the pile of scrolls on the table.
I read through a few more scrolls again, but I was so tired that the words no longer made any sense at all. I put everything back in the wooden box and was about to turn the key in the lock when I realized I had begun to hum pieces of a song I did not recognize. But somehow I knew the song’s words. They were the clearest thoughts I’d had since reading of the dreams. Taking a blank scroll, I began to write:
The hopeless shall hope.
The songless shall sing.
My people shall know
The heart of their King.
I sat for several minutes, waiting, but nothing more came to me. I added those last strange words to what was already in the box, and then I locked the box and returned it to the shelf where King Artemerio had insisted it be kept.
Weary and wondering how much of the evening remained, I opened the secret panel—and instantly drew back in surprise. I was face to face with King Artemerio, who was leading Prince Vestero, Queen Folasade, and several men with long, white beards. The Elders of Lagal had arrived.
Chapter 3: Elders of Lagal
“Already here, Prince Barto?” said Artemerio. I stepped aside, and he walked past me toward the large table.
“Good to see you again, Prince Barto,” said one of the elders as he passed me on his way into the room.
“Good to see you, sir,” I said.
Another elder stood near me and said, “I hear you have just returned from a journey to the Unconquered Lands. I would love to hear some of your stories.”
“And I would love to tell them,” I said. “But I’ve made the great mistake of sharing nearly all of them with King Artemerio. I don’t know how you will avoid hearing them first from him, sir.”
The elder chuckled. “Certainly true. Nonetheless, I would like to hear your personal account of things. One must always go to the source, I say, if one wants to avoid the dangers of muddled details.” With a polite nodded bow, he left to take his seat at the table.
King Artemerio and Queen Folasade greeted the elders individually and waited until all of them were comfortably seated before they took their own places at the table.
“I thought you said they were coming tomorrow,” I whispered to Prince Vestero, who had stayed in the doorway and was glancing around the outer room, most likely for any sign of trouble but possibly for any stray elders.
“It is tomorrow,” said Prince Vestero. He closed the secret panel.
“Elders of Lagal, welcome,” said King Artemerio. “I remember well how little you enjoy wasted words, so I will get to the point.” A few of the elders chuckled, and I could not help but smile as I thought of the time when Artemerio had not been so careful with words and had left the elders no choice but to take his voice. He had improved very much since those days and was in no real danger that it might happen again. But ever since that time, he had handled his speeches with extra care whenever the elders were his audience. “Yes…the point. Now…the point,” he said after allowing a pause for the quiet laughter. “We don’t know why you are here, but we are sure you must have something terribly important to say. So, please speak. We are very curious to hear what brings you to meet with us.”
“Thank you, King Artemerio. Excellent speech,” said one of the elders. The other elders chuckled again, and Artemerio nodded his acceptance of the compliment with mock humility and a hint of relief. The elder continued. “The Great King sent us to you…to explain your dreams.”
“Then the dreams are from the Great King!” said King Artemerio. “I knew it. I mean, I desperately hoped it.” He glanced at the elders. “Very well, I had my doubts.”
The elder nearest to Artemerio nodded knowingly. “You will learn, my boy, you will learn.”
King Artemerio acknowledged the elder’s words with a grateful smile. Then he rose and lifted the wooden box from its spot on the shelf. “Gentlemen, this box contains a map, drawn by me, and scrolls describing the many strange dreams Queen Folasade, Prince Vestero, Prince Barto, and I have had of late. You are welcome to look through all that the box contains.” He unlocked the box and lifted the lid.
“We don’t need to see any of that,” said one of the elders.
Artemerio snapped the lid shut. “Then please put an end to the torture; I can bear this wondering no longer. I am desperate to hear what you have to say. I am desperate to discover what all of this means.”
“I’m so happy to hear you say that,” said the elder nearest to King Artemerio. “You are learning already, my boy. Who can expect to find what he is unwilling to seek?” He nodded to the elder next to him and said, “Go ahead.”
“You should understand that no dream makes complete sense until you see for yourself what it describes as it comes to pass,” said the elder who had received the nod. “So even our explanations will not tell you the full tale of what is happening or what is to come, and you should be careful that you are not led astray by your own interpretations of our words.” He turned to me. “Prince Barto, you have dreamt of darkness—of darkness covering the islands. It is the work of Dunley, and many people on the islands have welcomed it, knowingly or unknowingly.”
“Prince Vestero,” said another elder, “you have dreamt of battle. There will be a great battle—a battle for the islands, a battle against the darkness. But the battle cannot be won by soldiers with weapons of war.”
“King Artemerio,” said a different elder,” you have dreamt of light—a bright, blazing light. You have dreamt of carrying torches, lanterns, and lamps through the islands. And so you will carry light to the islands.”
“Queen Folasade,” said another elder,” you have dreamt of finding treasure—treasure of immeasurable value. The people of the islands are that treasure.”
The words of the elders hung in the air, heavy with truth.
“I’m sure these explanations are very helpful,” said King Artemerio, sounding polite but not sounding as if he thought the explanations were helpful at all. “But I’m still not clear on what exactly we are supposed to do.”
“Sail for the islands,” said an elder.
“But when?” asked King Artemerio. “And why were we to wait for Prince Barto’s return? And what route should we take to reach the islands? And what exactly are we to do once we reach them? And how long will it take? And—will we ever come back to Windsal? Am I to give up the throne? Am I no longer to be king?” He looked from face to face.
“We don’t know the answers to any of those questions,” said an elder. “But you raise a good point about the throne. A kingdom must have a king.”
“But if there is to be a new one, we have not yet been told,” said another elder.
“Since the four of them are to go, should King Artemerio not call upon Syroton and Athalia to serve as regents? Is that not what is done in situations where the king and queen must be away?” said a different elder.
“Yes, the former kings and queens of Windsal have often returned to serve when needed during extraordinary times. And this has all the appearances of being a most extraordinary time, I must say,” said the first elder.
“Unparalleled,” said another elder.
“Well, then, I think we have settled that issue. Syroton and Athalia it shall be,” said an elder at the far end of the table. “Who agrees?” After a chorus of yeses and I do’s, the elder said, “Then it is settled. There you go, King Artemerio. The kingdom will be in very good hands while you are away. You need not trouble yourself about the throne.” A chorus of oh yeses and very good hands followed. But I could see from the look on Artemerio’s face that he was still troubled—very troubled, indeed.
“Let me be sure I understand,” said King Artemerio. The elders all turned their heads to look at him. “Are we to make this journey with no more information than what you’ve given us—with only the brief explanations of our dreams that you’ve provided—with nothing more than that?”
“Well, actually, there may be something more,” I said. The unfamiliar tune I’d hummed earlier went through my mind almost as soon as Artemerio had begun to ask his question. “Does this mean anything to any of you?” I recited the words:
“The hopeless shall hope.
The songless shall sing.
My people shall know
The heart of their King.”
The eyes of all of the elders were on me for a moment after I’d spoken. Then the stillness and silence erupted in frantic whispering. Some of the elders gestured wildly in their conversations with their neighbors; others merely nodded as they listened. One thoughtfully tugged at his long, white beard. Another stared at the ceiling, mumbling to himself as he counted something off on his fingers. Two rose from their seats and began pacing the floor, nearly bumping into each other each time they crossed paths.
Prince Vestero, Queen Folasade, and King Artemerio stared at me with questioning looks. I shook my head and shrugged in response.
But once the shock of the scene wore off, the comedy became apparent. Queen Folasade raised one delicate eyebrow in what seemed to be a look of mild surprise, and her lips curled in a smile notable for its elegant mirth. Prince Vestero burst out laughing. I chuckled. King Artemerio, however, glanced at each of the elders one by one with wide eyes, seemingly immune to the humor of the situation.
“Were there any other words?” one of the elders asked me. The room became still and silent instantly. Again all the eyes of the elders were on me.
“No,” I said. The whispering erupted once more.
“Can such a thing be true?” one of the elders exclaimed.
“What is happening here?” asked King Artemerio, standing to his feet. “Why are you all so excited? What does it mean? Is this good news or bad?”
“To think that we would see such a thing in our lifetime!” an elder said without answering Artemerio.
“Quite beyond my wildest hopes!” said the elder who was still tugging at his long, white beard.
Those comments stirred the whisperers to wilder gestures and more impassioned conversations. King Artemerio opened his mouth to speak, but Queen Folasade laid a hand on his arm and shook her head. She rose and whispered something in his ear that caused him to nod and settle back in his chair.
At last, the pacing elders returned to their seats, and the whispered conversations drew to a close.
“Excuse us, please, King Artemerio. We are all quite overcome with happy surprise,” said an elder. “Do those words mean anything to us, Prince Barto? Yes, indeed! What an exciting time to be alive! What happy news!”
“Gentlemen,” said Prince Vestero laughing, “your enthusiasm was extraordinary. I applaud you!” He clapped slowly two or three times.
“Yes,” said King Artemerio. “If only you would tell us the reason for it.”
The elder sitting across from me opened his mouth as if to speak, but Prince Vestero spoke first. “What were those words again, Prince Barto?” Prince Vestero asked.
As I repeated the phrases, I realized there was something familiar about them, after all. “Where have I heard that before?” I asked.
“It does sound familiar,” said King Artemerio.
“It can’t be!” said Prince Vestero.
“No, it really does remind me of something,” said King Artemerio.
“It must be!” said Queen Folasade. At her words, Prince Vestero’s eyes caught hers, and he began nodding slowly. She pulled the map of the islands out of the box.
“Must be what?” asked King Artemerio.
“Did I hear it at sea?” I asked no one in particular as I stared up at the ceiling. “No, that doesn’t seem right.”
“Must be what?” King Artemerio asked again.
“My, my,” said one of the elders, “this is certainly entertaining. I only hope we were as interesting to watch.”
“Much more so,” said Prince Vestero, chuckling. “King Artemerio, Prince Barto—you have both heard those phrases before. They were part of a song I sang when we were in Black Rock Forest…when we led the Crevtonians to Lagal.”
“Of course,” I said. “But…maybe they are not as special as I thought. Maybe I just...remembered them on my own last night. I hope I haven’t caused this excitement for nothing.”
“No, my boy,” said the elder nearest to Artemerio. “The Great King speaks in many ways. A reminder of one of his songs is no less special than unfamiliar words. Do you not sense his voice behind it? Do you not sense that it was more than just remembering?”
“I thought I did at first, but...but it’s so easy to question these things and explain them away,” I said.
“You’ll learn, my boy, you’ll learn,” said the elder nearest to Artemerio.
“Prince Barto, the Great King gave that song to the people of Windsal long ago,” said Queen Folasade. She held King Artemerio’s map in her hands and studied it as she spoke. “The song told of the future the Great King had planned for the kingdom, and it was given to the people to ease their heartbreak after—” Queen Folasade looked up from the map and paused. “After a time of great sadness. But it is a waiting song—the words of hope have yet to be fulfilled.”
“Words of hope?” I said.
“Yes,” said an elder.
“I don’t understand,” said King Artemerio. “Hope for what?”
“Hope that things will be set right,” said Queen Folasade. “But my dear, you have yet to ask the elders the most important question about sailing to the islands.”
“What question is that?” said King Artemerio.
“Where are we going?” said Prince Vestero, laughing. He nimbly and quickly jumped to his feet. “What are these islands we’ll be sailing to? Do these islands have a name?” Excitement built in his voice with each question. “Where are we going? That is the question yet to be asked.”
“Very well,” said King Artemerio. “Where are we going?”
A smiling elder answered, “It seems that Prince Vestero and Queen Folasade have guessed.”
“Then you know the guess we have in mind? Are we correct?” asked Prince Vestero. He gripped the back of his empty chair so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he stared without blinking at the elder who had spoken.
“I cannot read your mind, of course,” said the elder, “but I daresay yes.”
“So where are we going?” King Artemerio asked again.
“Windsal,” said Queen Folasade. The elders nodded.
Chapter 4: The Story
“Windsal?” I said. “But we’re already in Windsal.”
“We’re in the second Windsal,” said Queen Folasade. “We shall return to the first.”
“Return to the first? Return to King Ralo’s homeland?” asked King Artemerio. “King Ralo left for a reason, you know. I’m not sure why we would want to go back. In fact, I think we’re making a very big mistake. I think we have misunderstood. The Great King would never expect us to go there.”
Prince Vestero spoke. “If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, how long has it been since you heard the story of King Ralo’s departure from his homeland?”
“I suppose it has been some time since I studied that particular part of Windsal’s history, but I do remember the gist of what happened. And it was bad. Very bad,” said King Artemerio. “That’s why King Ralo came here.”
“Oh, the gist is not at all sufficient,” said Prince Vestero.
“Hear, hear! I heartily agree,” said the elder who had asked me to tell him my stories. He leaned forward and said with great passion, “One must always go to the source, I say, if one wants to avoid the dangers of muddled details.”
“A fine point,” said the elder next to me.
“Indeed,” said another elder.
“Perhaps I could persuade one of you elders to recite the tale of Ralo and Milant?” said Prince Vestero. “You are, after all, those in the land most familiar with the many songs and tales of Windsalian history. And you are the best storytellers I know.”
The heads of the elders turned toward the elder who, earlier, during the elders’ excitement, had been tugging at his long, white beard.
That elder looked from face to face. Then he laughed, tugged on his long, white beard for a moment, and said, “It appears I have been chosen to do the telling. Very well.” The other elders began whispering again.
An elder next to me leaned over and said, “Excellent storyteller. Excellent. None better.”
The storyteller took a deep breath, and the other elders fell silent. Eyes closed, the storyteller began to recite.
“In ages far beyond our reach,
In days beyond the days of old,
Before the foot of man was set
Upon the land we now behold,
Another land, Windsal by name,
Across the sea did shine and gleam—
A noble nation, bright and fair,
A kingdom favored by the King.
A treasure far beyond compare,
The people knew the Great King’s heart
And sought to serve and love and give
To honor, reverence, thanks impart.”
As the storyteller spoke, I saw wispy images appear above his head. They became more and more solid until I recognized the islands I had seen on King Artemerio’s map. The recitation continued.
“And so the kingdom grew and lived,
Untouched by worries, wants, or needs,
Devoted to the One Great King,
Kept safe by wisdom’s words and deeds.
But favor often draws the gaze
Of those who thrive on greed and hate,
And so the eye of Dunley fell
Upon the kingdom’s lovely gate.
Unnumbered times he sought to turn
The favored people from the King,
But wisdom’s caution did its work,
And Dunley felt rejection’s sting.
At last he settled on a plan
Four generations in its length.
He’d wait as all those lifetimes passed
And then attack the children’s strength.
In waiting, he withdrew from sight
And spared the people from his hand
To disprove wisdom’s cautious words
And falsely question wisdom’s stand.”
The storyteller paused, and the elders began whispering. The wispy images floating above the storyteller disappeared.
“This next part is very sad,” the elder next to me whispered. “Very sad, indeed.”
The storyteller stood and moved away from the table. As he continued the story, new images appeared with his words.
“When time had passed as he had planned
And people lived who knew him not,
He came again with dark intent,
With evil words, with hateful thought:
‘If Dunley and his ‘evil’ works
Are never seen and never heard,
Might wisdom’s warnings teach a myth
And, therefore, just be empty words?
‘And if, in fact, that is the case,
What does the Great King hope to do?
His words, it seems, are heavy chains
To bind, misguide, and weary you.
‘So I advise: Throw off the chains!
Forget the wisdom you now hold.
You cannot trust the Great King’s heart,
His teachings, or the songs of old.’
So Dunley spread both doubt and fear
Among the people in the land.
But there was more he hoped to do
To bring to fullness all he planned.
As two more generations passed,
His words took root and broke apart
The teachings of the Great King’s love,
The knowledge of the Great King’s heart.
But this was not enough for him,
For he was more than just a thief.
Destruction for this treasured land
Would bring the Great King much more grief.
And so his eye fell on the throne,
And on the princes who would reign.
With proper training, they could bring
Destruction and tremendous pain.
His evil plan was well in place.
The king and queen, his witless tools,
Had wandered far from wisdom’s path,
And so would raise two selfish fools.
But one thing Dunley could not change.
A law that irked him grievously
Said royal sons were to be taught
By Lady Wisdom—only she.
So even with his careful schemes,
A tiny seed of hope got through.
The Lady Wisdom did the job
The law said she was bound to do.
The Lady Wisdom taught the sons.
She taught them well and taught them right.
She taught them of the Great King’s heart
And how to walk in wisdom’s light.
The older, Ralo, listened well,
Embracing all the Lady taught.
Milant, the younger, scorned her words.
And Dunley soon began to plot.
If Ralo never took the throne,
Milant could still fulfill the plan.
His heart was selfish, cruel, and cold.
He would become a foolish man.”
Leaning toward me, the elder next to me whispered, “This next part is sadder still.”
The storyteller began to pace, and then he began to speak again.
“So Dunley, with a desperate strength,
Attacked the law with new deceit.
Relentlessly he made the case
The irksome law was incomplete:
‘Dear king, the princes have to learn
To judge, to rule, to reign, to war.
Think you one teacher is enough?
Why not, I ask you, add one more?
‘Fulfill the law, indeed you should
But more is better, I would think.’
Persisting thus, he got his way.
‘You know of someone?’ asked the king.
‘I do,’ he said with quiet glee.
‘I’ll send to you the perfect one.’
Disguised, he then went to the king,
Who hired him to teach the sons.
But Ralo held to wisdom’s path
And saw through Dunley’s thin disguise.
He tried to warn the king and queen,
But still they trusted Dunley’s lies.
Worse yet, they told that Ralo warned
Against his teacher’s evil ways.
And so the teacher knew he knew
And sought to make his student pay.
The time had come, so Dunley thought,
To draw Milant into his schemes,
And so he had a talk with him
And fed Milant’s self-centered dreams.”
The storyteller cleared his throat, and the elder next to me whispered, “He’s about to do the voices. Very impressive. But still very sad.”
Rubbing his hands together and smiling wickedly, the storyteller continued.
“‘If only you could take the throne!
How excellent your reign would be!
It seems unfair your brother’s first
Though you excel exceedingly.’
‘I know,’ Milant forlornly said.
‘It is a shame I have to wait.
I fear he’ll live a long, long life—
Have many children—seal my fate.’
‘But did we not just read a law
That spoke of how you could be king?
What did it say? What were those words?’
Milant was carefully listening.
‘If Ralo dies, I take the throne.
But still no answer do I see.
Should I but raise a hand to him,
Well—that would be the end of me.’
‘Ah, no,’ said Dunley, craftily.
‘It could be done in such a way
That none would guess at your small part.
Why, I was thinking just today—
‘An arrow shot amidst the trees
At some supposed fleeing deer
Might find its way to Ralo’s heart.
An accident! He was too near.
‘A shove at just the perfect time
Atop a canyon’s lonely rim.
A drop or two into his drink—
Let poison put an end to him.’
‘Enough!’ Milant said with a sigh.
‘How could I do this wicked thing?’
‘It is your duty,’ he replied,
‘For who would make the better king?’
‘It is my duty? Yes, it is.
I know I’d make the better king.
What is his life compared to all
The people’s loss and suffering?
‘For surely he would cause such grief!
More than the kingdom long could bear.
Compared to that, his life is—what?
So I must kill—because I care.’”
The storyteller returned to his seat, and the images faded away.
“That’s the end of the voices,” whispered the elder next to me. “More sadness to come—but also an escape.”
“So Dunley and Milant began
To put in place their evil schemes.
But Ralo fled the palace then—
The Great King warned him in his dreams.
Good Ralo was to leave the land
And sail with others far away
To plant Windsal on distant shores,
And on those shores, he was to stay.
The king then died by Dunley’s hand,
And if good Ralo hadn’t fled,
By Dunley’s and Milant’s dark plans,
That night he, too, would have been dead.
Good Ralo sought the Lady’s help,
And she procured the needed ships
For those who served the Great King still
To join him on his daring trip.
For Dunley’s evil plan was this,
Now that his prince would rule on high:
For those who loved the Great King still,
There was no hope—they all would die.
But all who listened sailed away.
They had been spared this tragic fate.
And those who didn’t, hid themselves
On nearby islands, just to wait.
Milant, indeed, then took the throne,
But neither he nor any since
Was ever truly fit to rule—
For by the law, he stayed a prince.
When Dunley killed the foolish king,
On Ralo royal kingship fell.
And since he lived and sailed away,
The royal kingship left, as well.
A new Windsal would rise afresh
From remnants of the fallen land.
And there good Ralo would be king,
And all would see the Great King’s hand.
The first Windsal no longer shined,
Because of Dunley’s evil work.
Where once a noble kingdom gleamed,
Dark shadows and deep evil lurked.
Those sailing felt the pain of loss
From leaving what they’d loved so long.
And so the Great King touched their ears
And bid the stars to sing a song—
A song of hope, a song of peace
A song of promise as they sailed.
For Old Windsal a day will come
When all of Dunley’s plans will fail.”
The storyteller stopped reciting. He used his long beard to wipe the tears from his eyes. Prince Vestero started humming softly.
“Yes, Prince Vestero,” said the storyteller, “that is the song. And the words given to Prince Barto were very important words from the song. And they mean that the time has finally come. The promise will be fulfilled.” He wiped his eyes again and took a deep breath. “There is just a bit more of the recitation.” He continued.
“In Old Windsal, the darkness grows,
And hope and song are there no more.
But ever lives the Great King’s love,
So Old Windsal shall be restored.
One day a king will take the throne
With strength such power to decline.
And Old Windsal shall be renamed—
Restored, renewed, reborn—to shine.”
“Excellent storytelling,” said the elder next to me. He wiped at his tears and then clapped his hands. The other elders joined him.