Sample Chapters of ‘The Greylands: Volume I:’
Prince Bryant sat in the common room with two sons of the greater lords of Ithamar; they all had older brothers and very little chance of ever taking their fathers’ places of import and influence unless their elder brothers succumbed to some mysterious illness or fell in battle. Thus they were relegated to the privileged but socially obscure branch upon which they perched. Much was expected of them by their noble parents but they would win little glory, wealth, or renown for anything they did, though their elder brothers seemed to accrue acclaim simply by getting out of bed of a morning. It was a seductive glue that bound them together: jealousy of their elder brothers and anger at fate for placing them in such an insignificant position. Most nights they could be found drowning their woes among the city’s many inns and drinking houses. When they gathered in such a place, the natives inevitably relocated so as not to find themselves in an awkward confrontation with such important and often drunk personages; the consequences of such an experience never favored the peasants. The boys would drink their fill and complain even more of the hardships of the world while the innkeeper listened and shook his head thinking they knew little of hardship and nothing of real life, at least not life as experienced by the vast majority of humanity throughout history.
Ithamar was not the worst of countries in those days in its treatment of its peasants but the taxes were high and common men had few rights in a conflict of interest with the nobility. So they drank and complained and bonded over their seeming sorrow. Then they would stumble home drunk, fall into bed while servants cleaned up the mess, and begin anew their tedious lives on the morrow, succored only by the hope of the coming night.
Bryant’s father the King, his elder brother, his mother, his numerous aunts, his grandmother, and everyone else in the Kingdom with the nerve often scolded him about his dissolute habits but he ignored them or scoffed or yelled back, all to no avail. Why did he not lead his father’s soldiers as his younger brother did or marry the daughter of some foreign King? Could he not learn something from all the philosophers and sages in the Kingdom and be of use to his father and brother in matters of state? Could he not quietly disappear to his country estates and hunt contentedly in obscurity and not cause a scene? Could he do anything but embarrass all his nearest relations? Deep within he found the whole thing somehow amusing, if only for the consternation it caused his elders; irritating all his nearest relations seemed the only joy he had left in life. On the outside he was all strut and show but within he yearned for meaning and direction and purpose. He was a boat adrift at sea without anchor, rudder, or sail while a storm raged around him with no end in sight. At least he felt as if he had something to look forward to in his nightly carousing though he always came away feeling small and empty and alone as he wandered home to bed in the small hours of the morning.
Dark were his thoughts that night, darker than his usual wont, for he felt if he continued to do nothing he would soon do something drastic, whether to himself or others he did not know. He said to his companions, “I am tired of this tedious life we live. Let us do something great or terrible, that we might end the tedium and do something to be remembered; even if we do not succeed, it is better to die in the attempt rather than die in obscurity. Shall we be famous or infamous?” His friends laughed drunkenly, for the night was far gone and much wine had passed their lips.
He continued, “as you will not choose I shall have the honor then. Let us be infamous! There are many failed adventurers and heroes and none know their names. I say let us be remembered in infamy, for a villain never truly dies though he live only in legend. We could be bandit kings but why stoop to such a level when we can reach far higher and take what fate herself has denied us? I say we reach for the crown itself my friends! Let us supplant my brother and even my father the King!”
He continued to draw heavily from the mug of nameless liquid before him and was lost for many minutes in his treasonous expostulations. Whether he was serious or not, his friends could not tell but his words greatly disturbed them. They continued to listen and ape interest but the plot (what little of it there was, it was mostly grand words and misty aspirations) had quickly sobered them even as it chilled them to the bone. They were as empty inside as the prince but where they were content to enjoy all the privileges their rank could bestow, he had long ago failed to be pleased by such vapid entertainments. He was desperate for something to change and he had almost convinced himself that this was the only way. He finally finished his diatribe and drained his glass. He wandered home and his friends followed at a distance. They saw him safely to bed and then waited sleeplessly for the hour when the King would be abroad.
After an eon, dawn finally revealed her glory and they saw the crown prince emerge from his chambers; they hurried to tell him of his brother’s embryonic treachery. He listened gravely to the miserable pair; they did not wish to betray their friend, but their friendship was not such that it would be worth their lives if they did not tell and were considered traitors by their silence and seeming complicity. They finished and the crown prince said, “let us to my father that he may hear these ill tidings.”
They hastened to the King’s chambers, awakened the slumbering monarch, and told again their terrible tale. The King began to fume and rage while the Queen begged him to be reasonable and speak with Bryant first, before calling for his head, which of course started a Royal argument.
The prince and the two lordlings quickly withdrew from the Royal bedchamber and the prince asked, “is my brother in jest, a drunken fool, or a true traitor?”
They shook their heads, “my lord, we know him little when he is sober; you had best ask him yourself.”
The prince said, “I shall.” He turned sharply on his heel and went to find his brother before their father could do something rash. Bryant was not happy to be so awakened, his head throbbed terribly, but he soon quit complaining when his brother told the reason for his visit. The elder said, “father may very well banish you for such talk if he does not simply call for your head! Are you in earnest?”
Bryant said quietly, “I am not sure, I need something to change and this is as good a scheme as any I can think of.”
His brother said, “if it had been a drunken jest, perhaps father could be appeased but I am afraid his anger shall fall swiftly and harshly upon you.” Bryant paled, said nothing, grabbed his sword belt and cloak, and fled the room. His brother silently watched him go. He did not wish to see his father’s wrath realized but neither could he acknowledge this cold-hearted stranger as his brother. By the time the argument was settled and the guards were sent to bring the errant boy to face his father, he was long fled.
Bryant ran for his life. He was astonished to realize that he might perhaps be a murderous fiend if given the chance, at least if it granted him the end he sought. He had hoped it had all been the ravings of a drunkard but he was horrified to realize that under the right circumstances he might be capable of doing just as he had boasted. He fled his father’s wrath but he could not flee the monster that was his own soul. He ran to the stable, found a saddled horse awaiting his rider, flung himself into the saddle, and galloped out of the courtyard. The servant that had been saddling the beast tried to pursue the prince with warning but to no avail; he had stolen a wild and dangerous animal that was stubborn beyond belief and resistant to even the cruelest methods of training. How he even stayed in the saddle was hard to imagine. He was a magnificent animal and had been brought as a gift to the crown prince by rich merchants as something of bribe, that he might remember them with favor when he succeeded his father. The creature was physically perfect but had a will of iron and would let no man on his back. The prince was the first to attain such a feat and that unknowingly. So they ran, and with the speed of the creature any other horse in the King’s stables would have a hard time catching them. The beast would deign to be led an
d saddled but would carry neither men nor burdens. The crown prince had ordered him saddled and hoped to break him that very morning, hoping to succeed where all others had failed.
They ran hard all day on the shortest road out of the country. As night was falling they finally stopped, the prince collapsed against a tree just over the border. His heart sank and his hand reached for his sword as he heard the sound of galloping hooves drawing swiftly nigh. Six of his father’s guards drew rein a bowshot from the prince and one aimed his arrow at the weary boy. The bowstring sang as the prince dove to the ground; the arrow embedded itself in the tree just above where his head had been. The guards then turned and rode off slowly into the dying day. Cautiously the prince stood and pulled the arrow from the tree. He found a small piece of paper attached to the shaft, which read, “know you now that you are henceforth banished from all the domains of Ithamar and all title, privilege, and rank is hereby denied you. If you should ever return, it will be as a criminal and an outlaw and your life is forfeit unless spared by the mercy of the King.”
Bryant sighed and said to the night air, “I wanted things to change and they have, but not in the way I intended. I am now an exile, a wanderer, an outlaw, a fugitive, with no home, people, or place to call my own. I am a fool.”
The sweat-lathered horse snorted and said, “you are certainly all of that, as am I, but you need not be a fool.”
The prince sat down hard in surprise and exhaustion, saying, “horses do not talk.”
The horse eyed him patiently and said, “perhaps, but then again it may be that just the horses of your acquaintance have never spoken. Either that or I am not a horse.” He snorted wryly in amusement, as if he had said something rather clever.
Taking the hint, the former prince said, “if you are not a horse, then what are you?”
The unhorse said, “let us just say I have been banished from amongst my own noble and glorious people and reduced to the state in which you currently find me. I have been stripped of all that makes my people unique and left a mortal nag.”
The unprince said, “and what did you do to become as you are? Who are your people and where do they come from?”
The unhorse said, “perhaps one day I shall tell you all the tale but for now you must suffice yourself with what I have already revealed. What of you?”
The boy sighed, “last night in a drunken rage I spoke of doing terrible things only to awaken and find that all know of my theoretical treachery and that some part of me is not averse to such acts. I can flee my father’s wrath but I cannot run from my own wretchedness.”
The horse looked at him thoughtfully and said, “until now I have revealed myself to no one, but trapped as I am, I shall go mad if I trust no one and soon shall think myself nothing but a silly horse in truth. Seeing as we are both rebels and outlaws, perhaps we can travel together for a time? I will allow you upon my back in exchange for your aid in keeping me out of the hands of strangers who would happily confiscate a wandering horse as I will seem if I travel alone.”
The boy laughed weakly, “I admit to you that I am a traitor, willing to do murder and yet I alone of all men am the man you choose to trust?”
The horse said, “you have not yet killed anyone and the fact that you are horrified at your own thoughts means there is yet some hope for you. We are both rebels and outcasts, perhaps together we can find redemption upon the road. Besides, you are alone and desperate and need me as much as I need you. You shall not get far afoot.”
“Where then shall we go?” asked the former prince.
The horse shook his head, “I do not know. Even if I returned to the lands of my people I would not be allowed to or even capable of entering that wondrous land. You have no skills or relations that might benefit you in the wide world?” The boy shook his head. The horse sighed, “then let us go north for now until something draws us elsewhere.” The boy nodded his agreement, for one direction was as good as any other at the moment. They wandered off the road a short distance and the boy was soon asleep.
Morning came and the boy rose damp and stiff but much refreshed, but he had brought nothing to eat or to start a fire with. Neither did he have a bow. He had his sword and dagger upon his hastily grabbed belt; his belt pouch was full of coins but there was nowhere to buy breakfast. He refreshed himself in a swiftly running creek, saddled the horse, and they were soon off though the boy’s stomach complained bitterly. The horse remarked, “it would be a far easier journey if you could sate yourself with grass as all sensible creatures do.”
The boy laughed and said, “you are the only sensible herbivore I have ever met. All other creatures that go on four legs have remained thankfully silent.”
The horse retorted, “that only proves their sense, for only man opens his mouth and makes sounds for no reason. At least doubt remains as to whether the silent beasts are truly fools or not; man has proved himself thus time and time again by his speech.”
About midday they stopped in a small village and the boy purchased what he would need for the journey and some much appreciated food. They continued on until nightfall at which point, the boy made a rough camp as the horse wandered off for his nightly meal. They continued on in this manner for several days and nothing truly remarkable happened. They were traveling north through Sebeka: the neighboring Kingdom to Ithamar, a peaceful and prosperous country that welcomed strangers and most especially their coin.
The horse said one day as they rode along, “what know you of happenings in the wide world?”
The boy said, “I paid little attention to world events, current or historic, save for a little about our closest neighbors. Now I begin to regret my inattention to my studies, for now I see the use of them when previously I thought it all nonsense.”
The horse said, “I know little of the countries of men, but I shall tell you what I know of your world in general. It is a vast place and there are many kings and kingdoms; some are prosperous and peaceful, others are evil and warlike, and there are all shades between. There is also much unclaimed and wild land wherein all manner of beasts and folk strange to men are to be found. Much of what you consider myth or legend is actually true and flourishes in such places. In the far south dwells an Evil Prince with much sway in the world. His minions ride wherever they will and do as they please, causing much grief amongst innocent folk. His kingdom is called the Infernal Realm and is separated from all else by impassable mountains, though any who wish can freely enter his gates. All is sere and waste within a hundred miles of those vile peaks and he holds sway over all within their shadow. Many of the Kings closest to his domain are his vassals and nearly as vile as he. He is a rebel against the Great King, who dwells far to the north in the Brightlands and once was His greatest servant. A great chasm in the earth, called the Rift by men, separates those dear lands from all others.”
He continued, “it is said that the Rift is a actually a rift in time and space, having no bottom. No mortal can cross that chasm save by the will of the Great King or His dear Son, the True Prince whose will is always that of His Father. It is from the Blessed Mountains that rim the Brightlands that my own kin come and from thence was I banished. Between the Brightlands and the Infernal Realm are the Grey Lands, in which mortal men dwell and that encompass all you know as real. It is in this strange plane that you are born, live, and die. After you pass the gates of death you must enter either the Brightlands, if you are a willing subject of the Great King, else you come under the dominion of the Dark Prince and you will never more come forth from the Infernal Realms. One day the Great King will reclaim the Grey Lands and forever banish the Dark Prince beyond his own mountains and seal the gate that none may pass out again. Then will all the world be as it was meant to be, before rebellion brought death and sorrow upon the face of the earth.”
The boy paled, “I have heard stories and legends of such things but never thought them more t
han tales. You tell me this is the truth! Whatever is a rebel of my standing to do? Am I doomed to dwell in that terrible place for all eternity?”
The horse shook his head, “I am a rebel myself and doomed to the same fate unless we can find a way out. My people are immortal, true and willing servants to the Great King, but alas I refused the duty He asked of me and I was thus banished. We never spoke of redemption, for we had no need of such a concept, but on these shattered shores on which I find myself the need is truly great. We must seek out one who can tell us this mystery.”
The boy nodded glumly and hoped with all his heart that a way could be found out of this pit of his own making. At least he knew now why they rode north; he had no wish to be nearer those awful lands than he absolutely had to be. “What or who are we looking for?” asked the boy.
The horse said, “there are supposedly men abroad, servants of the Great King, knowledgeable in all things pertaining to Him and His dealings with fallen men. It is one of these learned men that we seek, to learn what must be done to redeem ourselves.”
“Where are such folk to be found?” asked the boy.
The horse snorted in laughter, “an excellent question. I know little of mortal lands and know only what I have personally observed since my arrival in this dismal sphere and that which I have overheard men speak in my presence. Sadly, I seem to know more than you who were born in this place.”
The boy nodded glumly, ashamed of all he had failed to learn in his life and of all the time he had spent drowning himself in a mug of ale. The boy said, “perhaps instead of isolating ourselves of an evening, I should visit the local tavern and see if I cannot learn something of these mystics you speak of?”
The horse nodded in approval, “an excellent proposition.” They stopped early that evening, for they would not reach the next village before dark. The horse said to the boy, “be careful, for there are men who do not hold the Great King in high favor. The Dark Prince has spies and servants everywhere.”
The boy smiled slightly, “you are worried for my safety?”
The horse smiled, “let us just say it would be a far more difficult journey alone.” The boy’s smile deepened as he entered the inn while the horse wandered off into the night.
The boy took a seat far to the back and watched quietly from his private corner. The innkeeper eyed him speculatively but said nothing, for he caused no trouble. The boy watched the quiet conversations, tavern games, and the comings and goings of the various patrons. He marked out several shady looking characters but saw no one who seemed an ideal source of information. Full dark fell outside the grimy windows as a ragged traveler traipsed into the inn and wandered to the back of the common room. He surveyed the men scattered about the establishment and his eyes fell upon the boy, obviously a fellow stranger in this place. He made his way to the back and asked if he might share the boy’s small table. The boy was intrigued by the stranger and nodded eagerly. The man took a seat, the serving girl brought him a bowl of stew and some bread, and as he ate his meal he said, “what brings you to this place lad? One does not often see such youngsters wandering alone, save perhaps a few adventurous lads looking to be heroes.”
The boy said, “I wander because I must. My past is behind and all my unknown future lies ahead. I seek hope in a hopeless world and peace for a disquiet heart.”
The man smiled secretively and said quietly, “the world is not quite as hopeless as you might think, though sometimes it is dangerous to speak of that which is a light in even the darkest night. I am willing to speak with you but perhaps in a place less obvious?”
The boy nodded gravely and said, “my companion and I have ridden far in search of such knowledge. We are both wanderers seeking rest. What do you suggest?”
The man smiled, “let me finish my meal and then we shall talk for a time of trivialities to allay the suspicions of all here. Then you can wander off into the night and I shall follow when convenient. Wait for me along the road but well out of sight.” The boy nodded and they proceeded as planned.
Half an hour after the boy had gone, the man trudged wearily out into the dark, a man obviously too poor to afford a bed in such a place. A few eyed him speculatively but returned to their drinks, seeing nothing obviously to their benefit in yet another penniless traveler. The man wandered out into the road and waited silently until the boy crawled out of hiding and drew his attention. They vanished down an overgrown trail into a little clearing. The moon stood high and gave enough light to cast their faces into shadow. “Where is your companion?” asked the curious man. The boy smiled silently in amused anticipation as a horse stepped out of the shadowed woods and stopped before the man, looking at him as if awaiting some reply. The man looked from the horse to the boy and back again.
“Well?” asked the horse, “I have been told that this little interlude shall be worth missing part of my evening repast.”
The man gaped, “I have not had the pleasure of meeting a talking horse before, unless of course you are not actually a horse?”
The horse smiled in pleasure, “finally a man with some sense! Long have I hoped to meet such a specimen. I of course am no horse, save perhaps in appearance. And who pray tell are you and how come you to know more of wisdom than most men I have encountered?”
The man smiled in amusement and said, “who I am is of no particular import, save that I am a servant of the Great King and have seen many strange and wonderful things in my wanderings on His behalf. And who might you be, my curious friends?”
The horse snorted in amusement, “who we are matters as little as your identity. But know we are outcasts and rebels, seeking forgiveness and a brighter future. We have high hopes that you might be able to tell us of such things.”
The man nodded, “as are all who roam these Grey Lands. What know you of the state of the world and that which lies beyond?”
The horse said, “we know of the Great King and the sundering of all those who have rebelled against Him, including the Dark Prince and all mankind. We seek to know if there is any way to restore what has been lost. Can a creature sundered from its Maker by rebellion and iniquity be restored to fellowship with Him?”
The man smiled, “that is the question that wrings the heart of all mortal creatures. A creature in willing rebellion against his King cannot do aught to redeem himself. For what is the worth of anything we can do of ourselves? Our greatest and noblest deeds are nothing but soiled rags to the Great King yet the least of our sins cuts His great heart like a knife.”
The horse sighed, “then all is lost?”
The man smiled joyfully and said, “thankfully, no. We cannot redeem ourselves but One greater than us has paid the price for our folly; all we need do is accept the King’s pardon on His behalf and live our lives in accordance with the will of our new Lord and Master.”
The horse looked startled, “who could bear such a burden and yet be acceptable to the King?”
The man said grimly, “it was the King’s own Son who bore the penalty of our rebellion, and for a moment even His own Father could not look upon Him for the shame He bore. He willingly left the Brightlands to dwell in infamy among mortals, only to meet a cruel and humiliating end and to give, as it seemed, a great victory to the Vile Prince, but that was not the end of the story. He overthrew death itself, bore the curse each of us should have borne ourselves, and was restored to His proper place beside His Father. The Vile Prince was dealt a mortal blow that shall one day be made complete when the True Prince returns in triumph to overthrow evil and death forever.”
The boy said, “why would such a great and mighty Prince do that for the weak and wretched of the earth when He could dwell untroubled in glory?”
The man said in awe, “that is the mystery and the beauty of it. Some call it love, but such a love no mortal mind can comprehend. What will you make of this tale you have just heard? Will you
go your way laughing at the foolishness of an old man while seeming to tolerate me while in my presence or will you take my tale as truth and give your life that you might save it?”
The boy asked nervously, “what must I do to accept this great offer?”
The man smiled and said, “simply repent of your evil in the name of the Son and seek to live your life according to the Father’s will.”
The boy frowned, “and how will I know His will?”
The man smiled, “you will know. If you are in earnest, the King’s Spirit will be with and help you to know good from evil, right from wrong. You must seek out that which is good and noble and beautiful and pure. Flee that which is evil, ignoble, dishonest, wicked, selfish, and impure. Love all men as you love yourself and love the King with all that is within you.”
“And what of me?” asked the horse.
“What of you?” asked the man, “you are a sapient creature in rebellion against the Great King and therefore capable of seeking His gift of redemption to Himself.”
The horse said sadly, “but I have dwelt in the Blessed Mountains, across the River which mortal men call the Rift. I am one of the Pegassi and banished to dwell a mortal horse in these sad lands for refusing that for which my race is bred. Can even I seek this gift?”
The man smiled gently, “that you can ask that question and worry about its answer should be answer enough. Seek the King and I think you have nothing to fear. Were you yet of a stubborn and proud heart and refused His gift, I think there would be no hope, but yet your heart is supple, humble, and willing. I have no fear for you.”
The horse was stunned, “how come you to know my sin?”
The man smiled ruefully, “the root of all sin is pride and selfishness. For that is the crime of the Dark Prince and Enemy of the Great King. A humble and meek heart is hardly capable of such aspirations.”
The boy then asked, “and what shall I do with my life once I have accepted the King as Lord and Master? Must I become a wandering raconteur like you?”
The man laughed, “perhaps that will be your duty but perhaps not. There are many things the King’s servants are called to do. You will know in your heart that which you must do if you fervently ask it of the King. You say you are a rebel and an outlaw? I would advise you to return to the place from whence you have fled and face the justice that is due you and the forgiveness of those you have wronged. Only then can you seek what life has in store.”
The boy was aghast, “I thought accepting the Son freed me from all iniquity and the penalties attendant thereunto.”
The man smiled sadly, “He frees us from the eternal penalties for such actions but we must yet face the mortal consequences of our actions while life lasts. You cannot be right with the King if you are not right with your brothers.”
The boy was stunned, “how did you know I had wronged my brother?”
The man smiled, “I meant your fellow men not just your male siblings. Go home and make things right child and remember to forgive others as you seek to be forgiven.”
They talked long into the night but finally succumbed to exhaustion. They parted company in the morning, each continuing on his own journey, missing the other as if losing a dear friend though they had known each other only for a few hours. The horse, Erian by name, chose to accompany the boy home, that he might make amends to his father and brother and face whatever justice they chose to mete out. The traveler went on his way to seek out those who, like his former companions, were desperate for the truths he carried.
The journey was swiftly made, the boy was not happy to perhaps be facing death but felt such a peace and purpose within himself that he did not fear the future, even if it meant his demise. The horse did not wish to go back into captivity but he and the boy had discussed it and if things went ill with the boy, the horse could easily escape once someone took him out of the great walled city for a ride in the country. If the boy survived the encounter with his father and was not imprisoned for life, they thought to seek the Master’s will for their lives together. Erian never thought to develop such an attachment to a human but was happy to again have a friend, though he dreaded what end the boy might meet at the hands of his own kin. He had rather come to enjoy their time together and hoped he would not soon be alone again. Finally they crossed the borders into Ithamar and would soon face the wrath of the King. It was not long before six soldiers in the uniform of the Royal Guard came upon them. They were stunned to learn who the lonely stranger was and wasted no time in drawing their swords to take the rebel and traitor.
The boy drew his own sword and dagger, but only to throw them to the ground and then placed his hands on his head in surrender. The captain nearly fell out of his saddle in wonder but feared the boy might be trying his hand at some trick. He ordered his men forward and they surrounded the boy with swords bared. The captain searched the boy, cruelly bound his hands behind his back, and took the reins of the ‘silly horse.’ One of his men retrieved the boy’s weapons and they set out in triumph for the city. They said nothing to the rebel, save to mock him in his shameful return; the boy refrained from speaking. They entered the city and the citizens mocked and jeered as he passed while cheering the brave soldiers who had captured the renegade. The King had widely publicized the incident and its consequences, and the boy was already unpopular with the citizenry after his many intoxicated adventures in the city’s various inns. They arrived in the courtyard of the castle, many were the servants and guards who for a moment stood about in abject shock, before hustling off to inform the King of his ignominious guest. The boy slid form his saddle under the watchful eyes of a dozen armed men; he smiled sheepishly at the horse, who whinnied in reassurance as he was led away to the stables.
The boy was taken to meet his father with all the court and his entire family looking on. The boy stood before their Majesties, head bowed and tears burning in his eyes. The King wore a grim look while his mother’s eyes held silent shame and horror that one of her own children could be so terrible. The King said in a voice like thunder in the hills, “what have you to say for yourself? I half expected you to return with an enemy army, come to force your point, if you returned at all.”
The boy could stand it no longer, and fell to his knees before his father as the court gasped in amazement. The King’s jaw dropped and for the first time hope lit the Queen’s face. The boy said, “I fled a proud and foolish boy. I return in shame and dishonor, but duty bids me to return and face what my shameful acts have earned.”
“Duty?” scoffed the King, “what know you of duty?”
The boy wept openly, “I know very little Sire, but I could not go on living knowing your wrath yet hung over my head. Know that I am guilty of all that you have heard. I am also guilty of living wantonly and selfishly, with no regard for any save myself. I return to you a broken and humbled child. Forgive my idiocy and irreverent thoughts and deeds. Let justice be met in your eyes, as well as in the eyes of the court and all the citizens of Ithamar.”
The King gaped, “you are my son, are you not?” The boy met his father’s befuddled gaze; the man saw the truth of the boy’s words written in eyes, red with weeping. The King shook his head and said, “I threatened you with death should you have the gall to return, but I also spoke of the possibility of mercy. Tell me truly, is this drastic change of heart real or simply a ploy to spare your life?”
The boy said, “my life is yours to take if you will it thus. This shattered wretch you see before you is the man I have become in my absence; it is no act.”
The King shook his head, “and what has engendered such a change? You fled a traitor and return an honorable man that I would not be ashamed to call my son.”
The boy smiled weakly and said, “I have discovered that there is more to life than my own selfish and empty desires. I have found Him who can forgive my past and shortcomings and Who enables me to
become more than I could ever aspire to be. I am a servant of the Great King and His blessed Son.”
At this admission the whole court was suddenly in uproar. They of course had heard the tales and thought them all stories and wishful thinking, for there could be no Great King any more than there was a Dark Prince or unicorns or griffins. Such things were simply bedtime tales to teach children morality and hasten them to sleep and nothing more. The King was enraged, “I begin to offer you mercy and you dare blame your radical transformation on children’s tales?”
The boy said quietly, “they are not stories Sire, they are the truth and the only hope for mankind. Am I not living proof of their power?”
The King shook his head, satisfied that the boy did not mock him, but fearful that he was a lunatic. Finally he said, “I have stripped you of all rank and title and this I cannot and will not restore. However, seeing your change of heart, I will spare you from death. You may come and go freely within Ithamar and all its domains but only as a commoner. You have no rank or privilege among the nobility unless one of us cares to humor you for a time. What say you?”
Legends of the Brethren: The Sampler Page 23