Jonathan Dunn - The Forgotten King

Alfonzo looked at him closely. “Fifteen years ago,” he muttered, “And five at the time.”

He sighed quietly and said aloud, “Very well, Willard. If you do not know, then we cannot ask you to tell. I know you tell the truth this time, for it must take a firm, native forester to befriend a fierce black bear such as Horatio.”

“He is not so fierce, nor was it so hard. I had merely to be sweet to him,” Willard chuckled.

“What do you mean?” Alfonzo asked, “Perhaps it is my turn to exhort you not to speak in riddles.”

“I paid for his friendship with a pot of honey, worth more than my own life under the forest law.”

“That is no law, for law is justice,” Alfonzo answered, “And if there is no justice in the law, then it cannot be called a law, only a set of injustices. How can a pot of honey, short-lived and useless when it is gone, be worth more than a man?”

“There are some who would describe mankind itself that way,” Willard retorted, “Short-lived, and useless when they are gone. But forest law is more just than human law, in this, for while a pot of honey is worth more than a man’s life, it is because of its practical value. In human law, however, it seems a crown of gold outweighs the lives of thousands, though it has no purpose outside the desire to possess it.”

Willard turned from Alfonzo in disgust and tended to Horatio. The leader of the rebels did the same, though his face did not clarify with whom he was disgusted. After several moments, the Fardy brothers approached Willard and Horatio, who were conversing in signs. The blond Fardy began the conversation with this speech:

“You have a noble disdain for objects of desire made from precious metals, Willard the fair and noble. I take it as a matter of course that you will show that disdain equally, and refuse to accept the suit of armor you have won from us? Surely, you would not think of falling yourself into the same trap of material lust that has ensnared so many of your more civilized brothers?”

The brown Fardy added greedily, “Yes, and was not the arm wrestle illegitimate, since we were unknowingly wrestling a bear? Now, my brothers and I are patient and long-suffering, as you well know, but I wonder how long we can stand strong under such injustices?”

“Perhaps,” interjected the black Fardy, “Perhaps that injustice was countered by the injustice of our method in the arm wrestle. For we each used more than one arm, which is against the rules of chivalry.”

The blond Fardy was about to pick up the thread once more when Willard stopped him with his authoritative voice. “I will keep the receipt, and I fully plan to redeem it, if I ever find myself in Eden. I have no certain plans, however, and my arrival there is uncertain at best. If, after three years, I have not redeemed the armor, it is yours once more. Those are your odds.”

“Very well, if you insist on burdening yourself with worthless material possessions,” the blond Fardy pretended to wail, “Possessions which have already cost the lives of many men. But who am I to interfere with your business? I can only recall what the good book says: where your treasure is, there your heart will be also,” and he cast a sorrowful glance around at the others.

“Yes, but it is not my treasure. Besides, the armor could be of much use to me in some future danger.”

“Perhaps you do not understand, Willard,” the brown Fardy said, “But the armor is the coat of mail worn by the royal house of Plantagenet, crafted many generations ago and used by them ever since. After the rebellion, many men lost their lives trying to secure it, and we were only able to do so by purchasing the rights to Gylain’s debts, forcing him to default and give us the security, which was the coat of arms. What I would like to know, Master Willard, is how you came to possess the royal sword?”

“I only remember having it since I have memory. Or rather, since I have firm memory, for there are faint, dreamy thoughts of long ago, though I pay them no heed. Do not ask me how I came to have it, or how I came to live in the forest, for that I cannot answer. Let it simply suffice to say that I was in the forest, and that I had the sword. As to why I happen to be who I am, I can only think that there is some purpose for me to serve that I do not yet understand.”

Willard hesitated, then went on faintly, “I feel as though I have something to do, a very important something; something that I do not wish to do, but that I have no choice in; something that I wish was over that I might do what it is that I wish to do, without being under the tyranny of fate.”

“Perhaps it is only yourself which forces you to these thoughts,” said the black Fardy. “Perhaps it is your thoughts that lead you to your fate, and not fate that begets your thoughts? Can the future be stronger than the past?”

“Neither defeats the other,” Willard answered, “Instead they crash together about us, and from the ensuing chaos comes that veritable time which we call the present. The past and the future fight for the right to oppress us, yet only we can decide the victor. That is our curse.”

With that, the two groups split. Night was now fully upon them, and, setting a guard, they went to sleep in their various places around the camp. Alfonzo was the first to wake, though the dawn was yet far away, and he took the watch from Osbert who had come in late from his trek.

“How are the tidings?” Alfonzo asked him.

“They have gone to the southwest, maybe to Eden,” was the answer.

“Were you seen?”

“I think not, though you can never be sure with Montague’s guile.”

“That is certainly so. You have done well, Osbert, and I count myself blessed to have such a faithful follower in these times of unrest.”

“Not hardly as blessed as I to have a wise and just leader.”

“Tell me,” the leader said in a low whisper, glancing around him to the rest of the party, “What news do you have of the spy?”

Osbert sighed silently, reluctant to condemn his fellow rangers on circumstantial evidence and word of mouth. “I thought I saw Casper when I followed Montague, after he had taken the Fardy brothers. There was a shrouded figure walking with them, showing them the way, but he dashed off before I could be sure. Then, when I returned to the caverns, I saw that his boots had been newly muddied. I asked him, and he said he had been asleep. There are other explanations – but I can only tell you what I know.” Osbert dropped his head, ashamed for his friend Casper.

“Do not be afraid Osbert, many have fallen away before, and more will yet leave us. Traveling the great forest, protecting loyal travelers from the thugs of Gylain, taking from the oppressors and returning to the oppressed – it is not an easy life. Every moment is filled with danger, and there are some who cannot handle it. Even de Garcia, the great warrior of my youth, fell into the snares of Gylain. Be strong, therefore, and persevere.”

“Yes, Alfonzo, my only fear is that I put false charges on an innocent name.”

“I will keep Casper with me, under close watch. You have only done your duty. Come, what else is there?”

“I found a note from Blaine at the message post, in the sixth quadrant of the Treeway.”

“Let us see it.”

Osbert handed Alfonzo a carefully folded piece of paper, and the latter opened and read it to himself.

Alfonzo, I hope that you receive this before it is too late. I know your orders, and will not turn back to consult you, instead putting my worries to paper. I’ve tested the men with me and they are loyal, though I cannot say how in this letter. When next we meet, I will tell. Until then, know that the traitor is with you or Milada, and not with me. There is news that the Queen of Saxony is arriving within a few days, so we must be extra vigilant of action against us. Also, the news from Hibernia is that Patrick McConnell is imprisoned. These things do not affect Atilta directly, yet our companions across the sea are treated ill. May it not be passed on to us. For now, though, all is well at the eye of the storm, and at the Great Goliaths. ? Signed, Blaine.