The King's Folly

by Robin Simmons

  The ancients, Raven thought, had a much greater knowledge than we possess today. They far outdistanced us in many things. We have not gotten better or smarter; instead this knowledge has been lost. Who could craft things like this today?

  He guessed if he could talk with the last king of the Brickens' line even that king would claim these things a mystery. The realization of the great antiquity of this room overwhelmed Raven’s reasoning. These things dated back to the beginning of the kingdom of Glenfair, a thousand years or more! Then Raven realized for the first time there were five sets of armor in different places in the room, helmets, shields, swords, and each one had the crest of a different family, the Brickens and each of the four Dukeship’s families. His eyes searched quickly and he found it, the Kallestor coat of arms and crest, the familiar apple tree on the wall and beneath it stacked on its holders was the armor. He expected it to be less than the king’s armor but it was every bit as incredible and beautiful. He knew now the same craftsman had made them all, and had made them all equal. Was that how it was in the beginning, the kings and dukes all equal?

  They must have been, he decided. Probably more so than today, with everyone sharing in the protection of the kingdom and treasuring the precious land of Glenfair as the present king and dukes did!

  Now he was more curious as to what part the king exactly played in the beginning. As he picked up his family’s helmet and placed it on his head, he was amazed at how perfect it fit, as if it was made for him. Because it was so comfortable and light he knew it could be worn all day and barely be noticed, and he could see so well with it on, the visor having the same locking mechanism as the others. He took the helmet off and placed it back in its specially created place and looked at the sword next. As he drew it from its sheath, the first thing he noticed was how light it was. Impossible, he thought, it is too light to be steel and of any use in battle. Then he backtracked in his thought. The creator of such items would not have made them useless.

  The sword was perfectly balanced and heavy enough to cut deep if swung hard, and just the right length. He touched the blade’s edge with his thumb and immediately knew it was a mistake, for it cut him before he realized it, not a bad cut but his thumb was bleeding. What manner of workmanship is this, a blade that stays sharp like this for centuries? Further examination revealed it was a metal of some kind but one he was unfamiliar with. He carefully put the sword back into its sheath and hung it in its place. As he stared at the family crest, he realized for the first time that it was a little different than their current family crest. But it was the same he knew as the one that was carved in the dining hall at the Crestlaw castle that used to be his ancestors’.

  That makes sense, he thought. With the time of centuries, some things would change slightly accounting for the variation in the family crest.

  His eyes wandered the room to a place where no crests were, but instead a storage cabinet made of wood. This had not weathered the centuries so well as the armor and looked very old. Raven walked over to it and noticed that it was locked with no key in sight. Grabbing hold of the handles, he pulled and the wood broke around the lock. One door swung open and fell off its hinge to the floor, further breaking it into pieces. Inside were more weapons of great craftsmanship, but what caught his eye was the crossbow. This crossbow had no family crest, suggesting it could be carried by anyone who needed it. But it was still crafted with the same genius that made the other weapons transcend his knowledge. He noticed the bow was made of some kind of metal. All the crossbows he had seen had bows of wood, for that was the only thing that could be bent and let go with enough force to send an arrow, or rather bolt to its target. None of them had the range of a good long bow so they were not used for battle. He knew metal could bend but once bent it would not return well to its original shape, never forceful enough to send a bolt flying. This was different; this was some kind of springing metal. And the string was not a string at all, but some kind of woven, braided tiny strands of steel.

  This is truly amazing, Raven thought again. He also found the device used to stretch the metal string and set the bow. His first attempt was clumsy and a little frightening, but finally he succeeded in cocking the crossbow. He was disappointed to find only three bolts for the crossbow. But oh, what arrows they were, straight and true, made of light metal with razor sharp tips that Raven knew now to avoid touching. He placed one on the bow and looked for something to shoot at but found nothing in the room, so he removed the bolt and used the cocking device to let the metal string return to normal. Raven could feel the power of this weapon and knew it would shoot farther than anything he had ever seen. Holding that kind of power was frightening and exciting at the same time. Raven decided he had better get back, but just before he left the room he decided on impulse to grab his family’s sword and take it with him. Back down the passage, he went to the part where numbers and “S” were found on the doors. He knew now how to find his way around, and from his “XI-S” to Lorriel’s room or any other in this section was just a matter of counting rooms from his. He pulled the lever after looking to make sure no one else was in his room and entered closing the door behind him. His heart was still beating furiously from the excitement of discovery and adventure. Who should he tell of these wondrous things? No one for now, he decided.

  He went to sleep with thoughts of wondrous times in the ancient days in which the things he had discovered were known and used. As those thoughts filtered out in the haze of sleep, he dreamed of an impossible palace, beautiful like glass, high above all that was in the kingdom where the wisdom of the ancients was stored and kept.

  In the morning, Raven was down for breakfast early dressed for arms practice with Master Fields. On his side was the sword of the ancient Kallestor clan. Raven was glad the sheath was not overly remarkable, just fine craftsmanship, nothing too out of the ordinary to draw attention to it. Lorriel and Rebekka came down just as he was finishing. He spoke to Lorriel and asked if it would be all right if Rebekka could obtain leave to have a picnic lunch with him today. The smiles and looks they gave each other told Raven they had already discussed it among themselves as he knew they would. Lorriel told him it would be fine and winked at him which made him blush a little. Then he headed out to meet Master Fields for arms practice.

  When Raven reached the courtyard where the training took place, no one was there.

  Odd, Raven thought, Master Fields was supposed to be here early. Something was not right.

  Raven closed his eyes and tried to heighten his senses as Master Fields was teaching him to do, trying to reach out to the courtyard and beyond for any sound or movement. Just as he was searching, he heard movement to the back of his right side. Then he heard something else moving through the air in big slow rotations. Raven whirled and his eyes focused on the sound. There it was spinning toward him. Then everything seemed to slow down, and he could see the rotation of a battle axe coming for him. But instead of ducking out of the way, he sidestepped and reached up and plucked it out of the air with his hand, timing the spinning of the axe and grabbing the handle. Master Fields stepped out from behind his concealment, mouth wide open.

  “How did you do that, Prince Raven?” he said excitedly as he ran up.

  Raven was shocked himself, “I...I do not know, Master Fields. I saw it coming, saw it spinning and reached out and grabbed it with my hand.” Raven now examined the axe thrown at him and had to smile. It was made entirely out of wood with no sharp edges, just the kind of tool to use in this exercise so if the candidate failed to react, it would only thump him good, not injure.

  “I see you have been following the exercises better than I had imagined. I only expected you to dodge the wooden axe, for it makes quite a bit of noise going through the air, or even take it on the shoulder as you turned around. I would have been happy with that, but to grab it out of the air,” Master Fields shook his head unbelieving. “Oh well, we shall talk of this later. Now to sword play.” Master Fields w
ent on, “Today I want you to attack from time to time as opportunity presents itself instead of just defending. Last practice you proved adequate at defense.”

  Raven drew his family’s sword, and because Master Fields was taking a defensive posture he did not notice the color of the steel blade was different. Master Fields attacked and Raven warded off the blow, metal against metal, but it sounded different, Raven realized, than regular sword play, not as much ringing and clanging. On came Master Fields, stroke after stroke of professional precision.

  Raven once again was thrown into a defensive posture, thinking; he wants me to attack? As if I had time to save my skin and attack as well!

  But as the dueling continued, an opportunity to attack presented itself. Master Field’s sword dropped down exposing his open shoulders and helmet. Raven swung fast, but Master Field’s sword came up to block the attack. Only Master Field’s sword did not slow Raven’s much at all. Instead, Raven’s cut right through Master Field’s sword and into his shoulder mail. Raven was shocked and so was Master Fields. He stood there looking at his severed sword, blood dripping from his shoulder wound.

  “Let me see that sword,” Master Fields said, taking it from Raven and ignoring the cut in his shoulder. He looked at the blade, wonder in his eyes and then told Raven to hold up what was left of his broken sword. Raven did so and Master Fields swung the blade around and cut more off of the sword as Raven held it up.

  Now Master Fields had fear in his eyes. “Where did you get this sword?” he asked Raven with a shaky voice.

  Raven saw the fear in Master Field’s eyes and debated how much he should tell him, “A secret chamber I found in the castle had this sword in it and other weapons. I think they are from the ancient first kings of old.”

  “No doubt,” Master Fields said, “I have heard legends from my weapon’s master passed down to him from his and so on of such wonders, but I never believed them, until now. This is no ordinary sword,” he said to Raven, handing it back to him. “But it is yours for it bears your family crest.”

  Raven took the sword and returned it to its sheath, then looked at Master Fields’ wounded shoulder. It was not bad for the sword had made only a shallow cut through the mail. Raven shuddered to think what would have happened if he had swung harder.

  “You say there are more weapons?” Master Fields asked Raven.

  Raven nodded, “Only a few more of the same except for a crossbow I want you to see. But it only has three bolts, and I want to see if we can make more before we try to shoot it in practice.”

  Master Fields solemnly said, “Bring me one of the crossbow bolts so I can have a look. I can take it to Smithy and see what the old forger can do to copy it, but for now you cannot use that sword in practice. It is too dangerous.”

  Raven nodded his head in full agreement. The sword was too dangerous to use.

  “Also,” Master Fields went on, “you are to tell no one of this, do you understand? I do not even want to know where this secret room is.”

  Raven nodded again to this admonition, knowing Master Fields was very serious about what he said.

  When Master Fields saw that he had Raven’s understanding, he whistled and smiled and said, “Did you see how that thing cut through the other steel and my coat of mail, too?”

  At this they both started laughing because it was so unbelievable.

  “If something happens to me,” Raven went on, “I want you to have the sword Master Fields.”

  “Oh, no,” Master Fields said, “If something happens to you, I am going to bury that thing. That kind of sword is something a man should not possess.”

  Now Raven was confused, he thought a weapon’s master was the perfect person to have such a sword.

  “Then why let me have it?” Raven asked.

  Master Fields smiled, “You are the one person I would trust with such a sword. I have seen into your heart Raven, and you will use the sword for honorable combat, nothing else. Now, take a regular sword and we will continue our lesson.”

  “Are you sure you can continue with your shoulder?” Raven asked sympathetically.

  “Think I am old, do you? Think a little cut will slow me down? You just wait.”

  The sword play began and Master Fields lived up to his words, disarming Raven in a short time, again and again, until Raven called a halt and yielded to Master Fields.

  “You are too much for me today, Master Fields, I yield.”

  With that Master Fields commented, “You remember that, you young pup.”

  Raven laughed, and Master Fields could not help but smile, too.

  “I always knew you were holding back on me,” Raven said. “Now I know it is so!”

  “Tomorrow then,” Master Fields said proudly.

  “I am looking forward to it,” Raven replied. Taking the ancient sword, he then bowed to Master Fields and left to refresh himself, smiling as he went.

  Master Fields looked after Raven as he left and thought to himself; if you only knew what you possessed. He was not referring to the ancient sword but of the extraordinary concentration Raven showed in grabbing the axe out of the air. No one had ever learned that quickly. Those reflexes were a gift only a few would possess in a millennium, and the boy had them.

  Raven went to his room and removed his family’s sword. He started to lay it down when he thought that perhaps someone might discover it and remembered what Master Fields said. So he opened the secret passage and placed the sword just inside and closed the door. Then he headed down to find Lorriel and Rebekka. Raven found them in the great hall decorating for the celebration.

  “Come to take my helper away?” said Lorriel jokingly, and then smiling she pointed to a basket on one of the tables. “I had them pack a lunch for the both of you, so have a good time and do not be late for supper.”

  When she said this she winked at Raven. Raven gathered the basket and held out his arm to Rebekka who happily took it and they went out of the hall toward the stables. Upon entering the stables, Raven instructed the groomsmen to saddle up two horses for a day’s outing while he walked to the end of the stable where the door in the wall had been. Looking at it, you could not see any evidence that it had swung open last night. He decided there had to be another way out as he had guessed the night before. He looked first at the wall that faced north. It was the only wall of the stable that was also the outside wall of the castle. He was sure this would be the most logical place for an exit, but saw no indication of one. This did not discourage him in the least for he knew how well the masters of old had concealed their doors. At that moment Rebekka came up beside him and asked what Raven was doing.

  He hesitated a moment trying to decide what to tell her, and then decided to tell her the truth.

  “I am looking for a secret passage that goes out of the stables, large enough to take a horse through.”

  Rebekka smiled, eyes wide with excitement, “A secret passage, how wonderful.” Then she began to look all around the stables. She walked up and down peering this way and that when she finally came back to Raven who was still looking over the north west corner where he assumed the passage was.

  Rebekka stood there for a moment, and then spoke, “If there is a passage, it is probably in this stall.” She motioned to the first stall next to where Raven was looking on the north wall.

  “Why do you say that?” Raven asked.

  “Because no one would look in a stall. Secondly, it is the only place there is a change in architecture.”

  Raven looked, in the first stall to his right there was a difference. There was an arch in the stone wall at the back, just the sort of architecture to support the weight of the castle wall if it went through. Raven looked at the other stalls and they had only rectangle blocks in the wall. She was right, this was different, although it still looked just like a simple wall. There was no horse in this stall so Raven and Rebekka entered, looking around. Raven noticed about six inches above floor level ther
e was a lip, or ledge of stone. The other stalls did not have a ledge in them, the wall went straight to the floor.

  Probably, Raven thought, a raised platform to keep the straw and other refuse from getting caught in the door, stalling the mechanism, or revealing the door’s presence.

  Raven closed his eyes again and felt around the door and found the small block of stone that was different to the touch but not really to the eye. He did the same on the other side as well and found the second stone that needed to be pushed as well but did not depress either of them.

  When he opened his eyes, Rebekka was looking at him and whispered, “Did you find anything?”

  Raven nodded an affirmative and held his finger to his lips to motion quietness, pointing to the groomsmen busy at the stables. Rebekka nodded and they went out to find their horses saddled and ready for the day’s ride. They mounted up wordlessly, rode out of the castle gates and turned north to go around to the north end of Pearl Lake where they would have their picnic.

  When they were out of the castle and away from people, Rebekka questioned Raven about the door, “So there is a secret door there. Did you find out how to open it?”

  “Yes, there is a door there and I do know how to open it, but I have to open it when there is no one else around. I might want to keep it secret,” and with this he looked at Rebekka.

  “I will tell no one about the door,” she said seriously, “I promise.”

  “Rebekka,” Raven went on , “how much do you know about your own castle, your family history?”

  Rebekka answered slowly, “I know our family line. The Prescotts have had the castle for as long as any history has been around. It is rumored that the Prescott line goes back a thousand years.”

  “I believe it does,” Raven answered assuredly. “What do you know of the first king and dukes of the Kingdom of Glenfair?” Raven asked.

  “Not much, no one knows anything of the first ancient king, save the folklore stories, and they sound too far fetched to be true. Why do you ask, Raven? Why are you interested in the first king and dukes of Glenfair?”