The Prince

by K. C. Herbel

  “Well, if he does challenge me, I’ll politely decline.”

  “Oh, you mustn’t do that.” Elzgig shook his head.

  “And why not?”

  “Politics.”

  Billy felt befuddled. “Huh?”

  Onian crossed his arms. “Because that would infuriate Finvarra. He’d consider it an insult and would probably kill you for such a slight, or have you thrown into his dungeon.”

  Elzgig held up his hands. “At any rate, it would be most unfavorable, and we may need him later.”

  “Then what you’re telling me is: I will have to try.”

  “No.” Onian straightened his spine. “You do not have to go to him. But if you go to Erin, and Finvarra challenges you, you have to win.”

  “Can’t I just surrender and leave?”

  “No.” Onian shook his head. “Finvarra never plays for free, and you’d be lucky to escape with your lives.”

  “Are we allies or not?”

  “Well, only when Finvarra wants to be.”

  Elzgig touched Billy on the elbow and said, “Remember, his wife Oonagh was quite close to your mother once. She might help you.”

  Onian sneered.

  “What?”

  “Oonagh has her own games to play.” The elf crossed his arms again. “Just hope she’s in a good mood.”

  Billy sighed. “So much.”

  Elzgig nodded. “Yes, Your Highness; the weight of a crown.”

  “If I must go against Orgulous,” Billy said, half to himself. “I will need the Daoine Sidhe army. I must go to Finvarra.”

  Onian frowned, but then managed to turn it into a reassuring smile. Then he turned and disappeared through the dark doorway. Billy went to the door to watch him leave, but saw only the glitter of frost on the wind and the telltale smoke-like breaths of his elfin guard. Billy winced at seeing how much the terrain already resembled his dark vision of the future.

  “Well …” Billy returned to his packing. “Do you think I’m making the right decision, going to Finvarra?”

  “Only you can know that, Your Highness. You must go where your heart leads you.”

  “At any rate, I think we’ve heard from everyone tonight.”

  “Not quite.” Shaldra poked his head in the door.

  Again, as with Onian, Shaldra’s silent appearance gave Billy and Elzgig a start.

  “Would you youngsters stop doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Oh, never mind.”

  The leader of Billy’s guard turned to him. “Your Highness, Sylvys approaches.”

  Billy and Elzgig went to the door and watched as the satyr made his way up the path to Elzgig’s little cave.

  “Wonder what he wants,” Elzgig muttered.

  “Probably wants to wish me a good journey.”

  “Your Majesty.” Sylvys bowed his head.

  The slowness of the satyr’s movements and the lack of color in his face struck Billy.

  “My dear Sylvys.” Elzgig waved the satyr inside. “If you wanted to wish His Highness a good journey, you could have met us at the bay in the morning, as everyone else is doing.”

  “I do not wish to bid farewell to His Majesty.”

  “No?”

  “No. I wish to go with him.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, what?”

  “I wish to go to Lyonesse with His Majesty.”

  Billy and Elzgig exchanged glances. Then Elzgig rubbed his face and massaged his eyes.

  “What’s wrong? Why can’t I go with him?”

  Elzgig sighed. “Sylvys ... His Highness travels to the land of men. How do you suppose to-to-to ...”

  “To what?”

  “Your horns and feet.” Billy had to work hard to stifle his grin.

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Elzgig said. “I didn’t quite know how to say it.”

  Sylvys looked up from his feet. “I’ll hide them.”

  “Hide them?”

  “Yes. Please, please, I must go with you. If I stay here another day, I will go mad or die.”

  “But—” Billy stopped when Elzgig grabbed his hand. He looked down at the little wizard.

  Elzgig returned a meaningful stare. “Remember? Balance.”

  Billy stared blankly at Elzgig, and then shrugged.

  “You have not yet become one with the mysteries of Tirn Aill. Believe me. It would be better if he goes with you.”

  Billy looked once more at the satyr. “If you say so.”

  “Great!” Sylvys smiled. “You won’t regret this, Your Highness!”

  Billy and Elzgig watched as Sylvys skipped down the path to the valley below. Billy thought he heard him whistle as he disappeared into some trees.

  “Good,” Elzgig said.

  “Good? How am I gonna explain him?”

  “You’re assuming that you’ll have to.”

  “I know I will!”

  “You may not. Besides, what I said about balance was true. Sylvys is an important part of Tirn Aill, more important than you know. Giving him hope gives us all hope.”

  Billy yawned and realized how tired he was. “I had better get some sleep.”

  “Yes. You go to bed. I’ll finish packing for you.”

  “All right, but if I find you’ve slipped in another additional member to this little quest in my pack, I’ll hang you up by your whiskers.”

  Elzgig chuckled and shoved a bag of dried fruit into Billy’s pack. At last, Billy’s exhausted body conquered his wound-up mind. The last thing he heard as he drifted off to sleep was the little wizard humming a quaint faerie tune.

  ***

  Billy awoke early in the morning. It was long before the sunrise or the morning tide, when his tiny band of faeries would depart on what could only be the most important quest of their lives. But rather than getting out of bed, Billy laid where he was. His mind still whirled with thoughts of the future, his mission, his friends, and Tirn Aill.

  Eventually, the chill air goaded Billy out of bed, but try as he might, he could eat little of the breakfast Elzgig offered him. His stomach now joined in all the whirling, twisting motions of his thoughts.

  “Better eat up. You’ve a long journey ahead of you.”

  “Can’t.” Billy rose and went to the door. “Too many butterflies today, but don’t worry: I’m not one to go hungry if I can help it.”

  Elzgig nodded. “An admirable trait in a king, Your Majesty.”

  Billy smiled and threw his pack onto his back. He then picked up Lura Zahn and hooked the weapon onto his belt.

  “Ready?” Elzgig asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Nonsense.” Elzgig took the lead down the path to the valley. “Ever is a long time. When you are king with many adventures under your belt and you and I are here in Tirn Aill, we will drink and feast as all good faeries do. We will look back at this time, and our fat bellies will jiggle with laughter.”

  Shaldra and his elves snickered.

  “Promise?”

  “Aye. I promise.”

  Billy’s entourage walked down the hill into the valley, past the royal court, and along the river, until they came to the gap in the hills that led to Glitter Gilt Bay. Along the way, the inhabitants of Tirn Aill waited to wish Billy a safe journey and to follow him down to the sea. Although not supportive or cheerful in the least, the malevolent faeries were represented by many goblins, hobgoblins, and others of their ilk. By the time they reached the pass, the rabble looked like an army, although not so orderly.

  The sun peeked over the horizon and cast its golden beams beneath the grey clouds and across the water. True to its name, the bay gave off a glittering display of light. It was a perfect scene and the perfect way to begin the quest, except for one thing.

  Billy stopped, and all his followers stopped with him. He held up his hands to shield his eyes from the dazzling light.

  “What is it?” Elzgig squinted to see the bay.

  “There’s no
ship.”

  Shaldra pointed. “The Dragonfly is gone.”

  “Gone!” Elzgig ran towards the dock.

  A grumble rippled through the crowd. Billy felt ill and walked to the dark, rocky shore. The mob followed, growing louder with each step until their chaotic roar rivaled the surf. The noise finished the job on Billy’s innards, and he pitched Elzgig’s breakfast into the waves.

  He straightened, still holding his stomach. “Silence! Silence!”

  After a moment, the crowd settled down to a soft murmur of whispers.

  “What has happened?”

  “The Dragonfly left, Your Highness.”

  “I can see that.” Billy fought to remain calm. “Why have they left?”

  The only answer was a murmur through the crowd.

  Shaldra appeared next to Billy and whispered, “Paryn thinks the goblins had something to do with it.”

  Billy eyed the elf named Paryn and called him over.

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Paryn, why do you think the goblins had something to do with this?”

  “Well, Your Highness … because Toady Brimstone and his crew are goblins.”

  Shaldra spat. “Cowards, the lot of them.”

  Billy’s eyes traveled down the beach, across the many faerie faces, and to the end of the dock, where a tiny gnome-wizard and a disheartened satyr stood staring out to sea. His stomach knotted again, and his hands shook with weakness, but then Billy balled them up until they shook with rage. Every muscle in his body tightened, and he threw himself to his knees on a large flat rock. He threw back his head and released a terrible scream.

  Billy’s mind was aflame. Everything was disjointed and jumbled up. At that moment, he had thoughts that were strange to him. Show these insects some real magic! Time to show them what you have learned! His anger was great. Then all was red.

  The congregated faeries stepped back from him as he let out an eerie roar unlike any they had ever heard. Then he slumped down on the rock, exhausted.

  A moment later, a smoky black form materialized before Billy. It hovered in the air, tugging at his bowed head with its wispy tendrils. He grabbed a shell from the sand and scratched a large white triangle on the black rock beneath him. He surrounded it and himself with a circle, and then threw the shell aside. The dark form solidified into a large open book. Billy raised his head and chanted from the book:

  “Come ye infernal power under the sea,

  I call on thee in all thy dread.

  Keeper of its secrets, guardian of its graveyards,

  give up thy dead.

  Thou who doest rejoice when the sailors cry out

  and the sea drinks of their blood.

  Thou who doest strike terror into mortal hearts,

  release to us thy bounty from the mud.

  And when I knock this ring upon this stone,

  to raise a ship in thy feared name,

  It shall not rest ‘til I please again.”

  Billy beat the rock three times with his fist. Each time, the rock seemed to ring out like a bell. The sound echoed on the air, and then all was still.

  Abruptly, Billy found himself chilled and kneeling on the rock. The tide had gone out some, and where there had been crashing waves, now only rocks and small tidal pools remained. Dark clouds obscured the sun, and the bay was an angry, foamy green. He tried to rise, but his feet were asleep. He sat and turned around on the rock. All before him were the inhabitants of Tirn Aill sitting back from the rocks, on the sand, staring at him. Many of those who had come to see Billy off were gone. Malkry and her mounted warriors had replaced them.

  The goblins and hobgoblins laughed and pointed fingers at Billy. He examined himself and found nothing. More and more of the dark faeries joined in the laughter. In their ridicule of Billy, they jeered and made all manner of funny, obscene faces.

  The remainder of Faerie visibly shrank. Billy saw in their eyes that they wanted to slink away, and several of them did—fading into the wooded hill behind the beach.

  The only ones unmoved were the elves, both those who served Onian, and those that served Malkry. They were more interested in each other than in Billy.

  Elzgig approached. When he was a good ten feet away, he stopped and asked, “Where did you learn that charm, Your Highness?”

  “What charm?”

  “That vile spell you worked there on that rock.”

  “I didn’t work any spell.”

  “But you did.” Elzgig pulled his beard. “And not a pleasant one at that.”

  “I worked a spell?”

  “Aye, ya did.” Elzgig looked around him before continuing, “Or, at least, you tried to.”

  “Me?”

  “Aye. Right there on that rock!”

  Billy looked beneath him. The black rock he knelt upon was now dry and charcoal grey. There were some faint scratches, which he found vaguely familiar. Then words came back to him as if echoed from a deep gorge. He heard them in a voice that was undoubtedly his, but they were words he would never have said on his own. The Witan’s forbidden black tome flashed in his mind’s eye, like a spark hammered from a blacksmith’s anvil.

  Billy stared at Elzgig. “What have I done?”

  The little wizard inhaled sharply. His eyes doubled in size and his jaw went slack. The hair on the back of Billy’s neck stood on end, and his ring finger tingled. As if on cue, the goblin rabble ceased their mockery and stared to the sea. Billy watched as the remainder of Faerie stepped back from the surf. The only sound came from the waves on the distant rocks.

  The tickle on Billy’s neck became a chill that playfully danced down his spine, but he was afraid to look back. The absolute horror dripping from hundreds of faerie faces was enough to paralyze him.

  With a great deal of trepidation, he forced himself to turn and look into the bay. There, before his eyes, a tall blackened spar moved upright through the dark water, growing taller as it approached the shore. A single pale figure rode in the remains of a battered crow’s-nest near the top.

  Again, the spar surged forward, and a boom emerged from the bay. Shreds of canvas and rope hung from it, draping into the water. Then more canvas, wood, and rope were exposed, and it became quite evident that what approached was somehow the mast and yard of a sailing ship. Closer and closer the object came, motivated by some unknown force beneath the waves. The lower boom became visible, and then the railing and deck.

  Billy squinted and saw several more figures, standing upon the deck where no living man could. Another chill went up his spine, for he saw that the figures were the skeletons of men. They stood motionless, their dark eye sockets staring to the shore. As the splintered hull of the ship came into view, the skeleton at the wheel moved his arm and pointed to the mast. The other skeletons began to climb up the ropes.

  Immediately, a commotion arose from the shore as most of the faeries screamed and scrambled over each other to escape the vicinity. Even Elzgig moved back to stand behind Shaldra. The only ones who remained were the elves. However, even these staunch warriors were visibly shaken.

  A dank odor drifted on the cold air, assaulting all those in its presence. Behind Billy, the mounts of Malkry’s warriors went berserk. Lances and riders came clattering to the ground as flying rock and debris filled the air. Cries of pain burst forth, as the animals overturned stones and trampled their former riders into the sand in their haste to escape the smell of death.

  By the time their mounts had fled from the beach, most of Malkry’s contingent lay wounded. The dark elves had come in force, but now only Malkry and one other remained mounted and battle ready.

  Billy returned his attention to the phantom ship as it pulled in next to the dock. One of the skeleton sailors threw a rope over a mooring pole, the ship coasted to a stop, and another threw down a charred boarding plank.

  Everyone still on the beach prepared to run, but nothing got off the ship; in fact, all the ghostly sailors remained motionless. An icy wind blew in during
the long hour that passed before anyone got up the nerve to approach.

  Billy, towing Elzgig by his staff, stepped onto the first planks of the pier. When nothing changed, he took another step and another. Before long, he was standing beside the boarding ramp, staring at the two sailors that stood on either side at the far end of it. He scanned up and down the length of the heavily damaged vessel for signs of life, but found none.

  Dead sailors sailing a phantom ship. It was all too bizarre, but what was stranger was the nagging feeling of familiarity about it. He looked at the skeletons, examined the shape and design of the ship, and then marched down the dock to the bow. There was a name on her—crusted with barnacles, muddy and cracked, but it was still there.

  Billy reached up and touched a piece of seaweed hanging in front of the name. It felt real enough, and nothing bad happened to him, so he pulled it away to reveal the name.

  “Gyl-dan M-ene. The Gyldan Mene. The Gyldan Mene?”

  “What’s wrong?” Elzgig whispered.

  “What’s wrong?” Billy stepped back. “This is the ship I stowed away on when I escaped from Lyonesse. She was headed to Erin when we went down.”

  “This ship?”

  “This very ship.”

  “This is not good.”

  “This is a ghost ship that should be sunk to the bottom of the sea! Of course, it’s not good!”

  “No. A ghost ship is, indeed, not good, but this ship, this exact ship ... here ... now! This is really not good!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This ship will lead to something … something terrible.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I don’t know, precisely.” The wizard tugged on his beard. “But I feel it in my bones.”

  Billy allowed Elzgig’s warning to settle in as he walked aft, along the pier. He looked across the deck at the skeleton behind the wheel. It was missing a few bones and half its rib cage, but was definitely the captain he had seen commanding the Gyldan Mene.

  Billy cleared his throat. “Captain? Captain?”

  With a creaking sound, the captain’s head twisted to the side and revealed that half his skull had been bashed in. He still had most of his teeth, including one of gold on the right side, but the missing upper cranial chunk dispelled any imagined humanity. The remaining eye socket seemed to stare back at Billy, and then the ghastly apparition nodded.