The Prince Page 2

  “Ow!” Billy reached under his shoulder to tug out the offending object.

  As his hand wrapped around its handle, Billy recalled that he had left Sir Hugh’s sword by his side in case he needed some protection in the night. Of course, it was ridiculous to think that he could wield it with any effectiveness, but having it close at hand made him feel safer. He still wasn’t sure if it was safe for him in the woods. And though the wounds had all healed, the memory of his encounter with a forest dragon was still vivid. This sword, in the hands of Sir Hugh, had saved his life that day, and Billy yearned for his friend’s company.

  He put the weapon aside and sat up, then stretched and yawned, but froze in mid-stretch. The birds stopped chirping and were still. Billy lowered his arms slowly. He rubbed his eyes and scanned the area. All around him, an abundance of nature’s creatures sat or stood, staring at him as if waiting for something. There were squirrels, hares, turtles, weasels, wolves, deer, foxes, and boars, to name just a few. They all eyed him expectantly. Billy picked himself up, putting his back to a large, rough-barked tree. All at once, the creatures of the forest crouched or otherwise lowered their heads to bow before him. The confused subject of their obeisance remained pressed against the tree trunk, not understanding what they were doing.

  Finally, the friendly fawn sneaked a peek at him. Billy then bowed to the creatures, just as Malcolm the Magnificent had taught him. But still they humbled themselves to him.

  “Rise, my friends.”

  The creatures arose, and an irresistible grin pushed its way onto Billy’s mouth. As his lips parted in one of his knock-a-gargoyle-from-its-perch smiles, the creatures moved forward, each one in turn coming to nuzzle up against him or crawl and climb over his body. All at once, Billy found himself laughing, and all the birds and animals of the forest joined him.

  ***

  “How much farther is it?”

  Billy and the small – but growing – army of animals had marched inland for most of the day, stopping only to drink from cool, clear creeks and graze on the available vegetation. He had never tasted sweeter berries, nor seen them in such abundance.

  A fox, which was the troop’s guide, turned and yapped at Billy. It then ducked into a grove of old oak trees.

  “That’s good.” Billy entered the thicket. “I was beginning to think we’d never get here. By the way, where is here?”

  “This is my home,” a voice stated from behind him.

  The sound startled Billy. It had not been spoken by an animal, but a resonant human voice. It was the first time he had heard human speech, other than his own, since he had come to Tirn Aill. Billy spun around, only to find trees, birds, and animals.

  “Who said that?” He felt uneasy and backed away.

  One of the trees bent slightly. “I did.”

  Billy gasped and fell backward when the top of the tree descended towards him. Before he knew what had happened, two of the lower branches had reached out, grabbed his arms, and helped him back to his feet.

  The large, rough hands of the oak released Billy, and he fell back to the ground. He stared at the tree and a shape emerged from its trunk; a gnarled and knotty face, which looked rather like the weathered face of an old man. A name popped into Billy’s head.

  “Quercus.” He wagged a finger at the tree. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

  The wrinkled bark-face furrowed its brows and stared narrowly at Billy with one eye. “Do I know you, friend?”

  “I don’t think so.” Billy was at a loss. How did he know the creature’s name?

  The tree twisted from side to side, watching all the animals that were still coming into the small opening between the trees. “I see you are a forest friend, for the animals love you, but I do not recognize your face. What’s more, only one other has known my name.”

  “Two others,” a third voice announced.

  Billy turned to his left, looking for another talking tree, but instead found a little man, no more than a foot tall. This diminutive fellow had a bushy white beard and thick eyebrows, which framed his round mouth and sparkling black eyes. Over his perfectly proportioned, although somewhat pudgy body, he wore a green and brown mottled robe, decorated with strange, dark figures and symbols. Atop his head, he wore a tall blue fez, and upon his feet, pointed shoes of the same color. The last item Billy noticed was the walking-staff the man carried in his tiny hands, which was nothing more than a willow twig.

  The little man smiled. His numerous laugh-lines and cheerfully grown crow’s-feet betrayed a long lifetime of good humor. He then looked to the oak and said, “Two others, Quercus—myself, and our young friend’s mother.”

  “Who are you? And what do you know of my mother?”

  “I am Elzgig, your servant.” He bowed gracefully before Billy. “And it was my pleasure to know Her Majesty, Queen Eleanor, even before she was queen.”

  Quercus inspected Billy. “You are Queen Eleanor’s son?”

  “Aye.” Billy nodded. “My father is King William.”

  He had never uttered these words to anyone before, and it made him feel strange to admit it, though maybe it was finally sinking in. He had only known for a short while, and he was still getting used to the idea, but it wasn’t easy. It should have been a point of pride, but the concept itself was bogged down and tangled up in anger and self-pity. It would have been much easier to accept King William as his father had he not turned out to be his mother’s murderer.

  “I see.” Quercus bowed as best a tree can. “Then I am also your servant, Your Majesty. Please, forgive me for not recognizing you.”

  The strange tree’s words brought Billy back from his reflection. He tried to stifle a laugh. “Your Majesty? No, oh no. Just Billy.”

  “King Billy?” Elzgig looked amused. “Yes, I rather like it!”

  “No, I’m not a king. I left all that behind, in Lyonesse. There’s no place for me back there, much less a kingdom. I am just the son of Eleanor.”

  Quercus frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Elzgig climbed down a thick exposed tree root. “He doesn’t know, my old oak friend.”

  “What? What don’t I know?”

  “You don’t know what import your mother was to us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mother was Queen.”

  “I know that!” Billy put his hands on his hips.

  “You see, Elzgig. He knows that.”

  “I know he thinks he knows, Quercus. But what he thinks he knows is not what you and I know.”

  Billy scratched his head. “Huh?”

  “Allow me to make myself clear.” Elzgig moved to stand between Quercus and Billy.

  “By all means, Elzgig. Please, do explain.”

  “Billy.” Elzgig nodded his way. “I know you know your mother was Queen of Lyonesse, but what you don’t know is that she was also Queen of Tirn Aill.”

  Billy scrunched up his face. “What?”

  “Your mother was Queen of—”

  “Whoa—whoa—whoa—wait! Hold it right there.” Billy put up his hand. “How could she be Queen of Tirn Aill, when she was Queen of Lyonesse?”

  “She was Queen of Tirn Aill long before she left for the world of man.”

  “Then why did she go?”

  “She was content to watch mankind in the waters of a magic pond; their triumphs and their wickedness. One day, she saw a young warrior wounded in battle and became strangely concerned. Every day, she returned to see how he faired and eventually fell in love.”

  “My father.”

  “She thought,” Elzgig continued. “She thought she could influence the ways of men. She wanted to bring them understanding and peace.” Under his breath, Elzgig added, “Was that ever a mistake!”

  “What? Peace and understanding?”

  “No. They are never a mistake. Her mistake was in thinking she could change the hearts of men.”

  “Men aren’t all bad.”

  “No, that’s true eno
ugh, but even as we speak, a war is boiling over between Gwythia and Lyonesse, and the first battle has been fought.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “I have the sight.” The little man touched his fingertips to his forehead. “And so did your mother. Although, she left before I could teach her much. I suspect you have the sight too.”

  “Me? I ...” Billy stopped short when he remembered that many of his dreams had come true, and how he had touched the minds of others to relive their memories. He also had occasional haunting flashes of faceless thousands butchered on the battlefield, or frozen in an icy death.

  Billy looked down at the ring on his hand. It had belonged to his mother. “I believe this has given me visions. Some horrible—”

  “Yes, yes. You can tell me all about it later, but now it’s time we were moving on.”

  “Where to?”

  “There are a great number of others who will be ‘interested’ to meet you.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “First, let me warn you.” Elzgig sounded serious for the first time in their conversation. “Some will be happy to see you. Others will not.”

  ***

  Billy and Elzgig walked alone in the forest until dusk. As the sun set, they broke through the trees. A lush valley lay just below them, and a river wound its way through the valley’s floor and on to a sea, where the final rays of the sun glittered on the water like molten gold. Near the banks of the river, Billy spotted a settlement. It wasn’t what he would have called a town or even a village. Just a few peculiar structures scattered around a large clearing that sloped down to the water’s edge.

  As the gilded rays of sunlight faded and the long shadows merged into night, strange floating lights appeared in the little village, bathing the whole in a bluish glow.

  Billy pointed. “What’s that?”

  “That is your court, Your Majesty.”

  At that moment, music came up from the valley. Cheerful music, unlike any he had ever heard. He watched as more of the pale blue lights appeared in the hills of the valley and in the forest that surrounded it. Some bobbed and wafted slowly, while others flew like shooting stars—all migrating to the valley’s floor.

  Elzgig snapped his fingers and a light appeared above his head. Billy jumped back in surprise, but immediately felt at ease when he saw the calm, smiling face of his companion illuminated by the faint blue light. Billy examined the phenomenon as it hovered before him. It looked like a sphere of pale blue flame, which remained constant in size. He reached out a hand, but felt no warmth coming from the orb. As if to answer his curiosity, the light jumped into his palm and rested there.

  Elzgig gaped at him, and then threw back his head with a laugh. “Aye, you are Her Majesty’s son, sure enough.”

  Billy looked up from the light to the little man and smiled. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because your mother was the only other who could do what you just did.”

  Billy felt somewhat confused. “What did I just do?”

  “Why, move a light belonging to another.”

  Billy looked at the small blue light in his hand. The sphere had no weight or tangible boundaries, yet it tickled his hand.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He offered the light back to his new companion, but secretly wished he had one of his own. At once, the orb of light brightened and split into two. One light floated back to Elzgig, while the other remained in Billy’s hand.

  “Say, you learn quick!”

  Billy examined the light in his hand again, and then looked out at the multitude of little lights moving through the valley. “And all of them are ... ?”

  “The same.” Elzgig nodded. “Many go to your court tonight.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  They walked down the hill, and Elzgig turned to Billy, who continued to toy with the light in his hand. The little man’s face again took on an unexpected solemn expression.

  “What?”

  “Your Majesty, I feel I must warn you again. Some of your kingdom may not be happy with your appearance at this time.”

  “Why?”

  “When your mother left, many came forward pressing their claim to rule.”

  “Like who?”

  “Well, the goblins, hobgoblins, boogles, boogies, gremlins, and pixies, to name a few.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “Nothing. You see, they can never agree on anything and always fought amongst themselves, and so the rest of Faerie could hold them at bay. But they are still dangerous.”

  “Now that I’m here, won’t all that change?”

  “Yes. But I fear it will get worse.”

  Billy stopped in his tracks. “Then maybe I shouldn’t go.”

  Elzgig smiled at him and shook his head. “I’m happy to see you have not greed in your heart. That is the way it should be with kings. No, my young friend, you must go. It is your destiny.”

  Billy looked at the ring on his finger. In the short time he had worn his mother’s ring, he had come to understand what it meant to have a destiny. He had lost everything: his father, his friends, his country, and even his identity. What will my cursed destiny cost now?

  Elzgig cut Billy’s reflection short.

  “Your most dangerous enemies will undoubtedly be those some call dark elves.”

  “Dark elves?”

  “Aye.” Elzgig frowned. “They are by far the strongest of those who would usurp your throne. And I hear they have made secret pacts with the goblins and hobgoblins to gain their support.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Your timely arrival may be enough to upset their plans, but they will not simply roll over because you are Eleanor’s son. Come, we have dallied long enough. Your subjects await.”

  At that moment, a blue light came through the woods and passed between Billy and Elzgig. Beneath the tiny bouncing light, a small humanoid creature ran at an alarming speed. It stopped, tipped its hat, and then was off again. With that, Elzgig increased his pace towards the faerie court. Billy followed close behind him. His anxiety intensified with each step.

  The enchanting music grew louder when they approached the river. Billy listened to the voices as they joined in the song. Some were birdlike twitters while others lowed like cows. The song of crickets joined them, and underneath it all, the river mumbled a counter-melody.

  Most of the blue lights had already reached the court, but occasionally, Billy caught one or two filtering in from the hills. At last, they arrived at the edge of the large clearing beside the river. Billy blinked his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision. All around him were fanciful creatures and dancing lights. And though he was now in the land of Faerie, he could scarcely believe his eyes. People of all description surrounded him: some big, some small, some with wings, some with antennae like bugs, and some were almost animal in appearance, while others had the countenance of cherubs. Beauty danced with repugnant, old sang with young, fat feasted with skinny, and blind-drunk drank with tipsy, all together in joyous revelry.

  The rabble surrounded a table, which was nearly a quarter furlong in length. At the far end sat a large wooden chair decorated with gold, silver, and gems.

  Elzgig led Billy through the throng of revelers to the end of the table with the throne. No one seemed to pay them any attention until Elzgig jumped up onto the table and struck it with his tiny walking stick. Lightning shot from the end of his staff into the sky. A thundering boom shook the ground and echoed throughout the hills. All present then turned their attention to the end of the table, and at the diminutive mage standing there. Billy peered at him from behind the throne.

  Elzgig stood tall and smiled with his eyes at those around the table. “My brothers and sisters, I have great news!”

  The former revelers shifted nervously, mumbling to each other.

  “Our noble ruler,” Elzgig continued, “has come home from the land of man.”

  A
clamor erupted from the mob. Elzgig held up his hands in an attempt to quiet them, but they continued to shout and argue and rant. Finally, he struck the table with his staff. Again, lightning spewed forth and near deafening thunder filled the air. When the noise receded, only quiet remained.

  “Queen Eleanor is dead!” a female voice from the edge of the crowd shouted. “What sort of gnomish trickery is this?”

  Several tall, dark figures stood in the half-shadows on the fringe of the clearing. They had been so still that Billy hadn’t noticed them before. One of the figures stepped forward. She wore an elegant black cloak embossed in an intricate knotwork of gold. A slender gloved hand protruded from the cloak and pushed back the hood. The woman had a pale, narrow face with high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes the color of violets. Billy shuddered at the coldness he perceived in her eyes. Her features were nearly identical to those of the Night Queen—the nightmarish creature he had narrowly escaped in Lyonesse.

  The woman brushed back her hair, revealing pointed ears. Her thin dark lips parted in a venomous smile before she spoke. “I said, what kind of trick is this, Elzgig?”

  “It’s no trick, Malkry. Eleanor’s heir has come.”

  “She had no heir!”

  “Ah, but she did, and you know it!”

  “What?” Malkry took a step forward. “The son of that mortal?”

  “King William was not wholly mortal, Malkry.”

  “Even if the boy did exist, he’s dead now.”

  Billy stepped from behind the chair. “No, I’m not.”

  A gasp went up from the assembled denizens of Faerie. Billy felt their eyes upon him, boring down on him, staring at him like some monster. The brief silence crumbled under an avalanche of whispers and muttering.

  “What kind of trick is this?” Malkry shouted over the hubbub. “Who is this … this boy?”

  “This is William, son of Queen Eleanor and King William of Lyonesse.”

  “You lie, gnome!”

  “No! He is Her Majesty’s son.”

  “Ha! This is some shallow trick of yours. The boy is dead.”