drunk, he was forced to drink another. Gylain and his men leapt forward, throwing off their disguises and attacking ruthlessly with their knives and daggers. The king and queen were slain.
This tragedy took place in the great hall of Castle Plantagenet, in the center of the city Eden. The hall rises through several floors of castle, the bottom being the dining room, and the top an open space, with no floor at all, merely an empty space wherein chandeliers are hung. Around that room, on the second floor, there is a hallway that has windows opening into the Great Hall. I was passing along this hallway with Prince Willarinus, to give him a glimpse of his parents before he went to bed.
I was his tutor, as well as his friend, for though he was a youth, his innate wisdom was remarkable, as if fate bred him for some special mission. As we passed one of the windows, we stopped to look. But what we saw horrified us: Gylain was disguised as the Queen of Saxony’s lady-in-waiting, and when the toast was raised, he threw aside the veil and killed the king with a foul stroke from his knife. One of his followers likewise dispatched the queen. Then a fight began between Blaine Griffith, captain of the guards, and the followers of Gylain. The forces of the king were outnumbered, but I did not stay to assist them. For I had other duties.
I took my liege, the prince, and rushed to the secret passage that connects the dungeon with the forest outside the walls of the city. There was no time to arm or supply ourselves as we ran, but my sword was at my side from habit, and Willarinus grabbed the royal sword from the hallway as we fled, though it was as long as himself. The passage to the outside was in the wall of the deepest dungeon, hidden behind a statue. The two of us were able to reach it in safety and flee to the forest.
Yet we were seen by Nicholas Montague as we ran from the apartments of the royal family to the dungeon in the under-tower. He left the fight in the great hall and chased after us. When he could not find the hidden passage, he took some men and went to the clearing in the forest where it ends. Apparently the conspirators had been able to ascertain its general location.
Along his way, Nicholas Montague came across a group of servants and ladies-in-waiting from the castle, who had fled when the violence began. Among them was Celestine, my wife, who did not know the intentions of the queen. Somehow the Queen of Saxony came to hate her with the same zeal with which she had once loved her. It was as if madness compelled the queen to hate all she once held dear.
The passage was narrow and cramped, turning many times along the way as it passed under the narrow city streets. We moved slowly because of this, thinking we had escaped danger. Nicholas Montague reached the forest before us, therefore, but his attention was turned to the party from the castle when we exited the tunnel. He did not see where it came out. But once we were in the clearing, Montague came face to face with me. The hour was late, and the moon was obscured by the ominous sky. Everything was dark, except for what was lit by a single lantern which the servants had brought with them.
Montague drew his sword and lunged forward at me. I was only able to deflect his blow by stepping to the right and letting him pass by me. I brought a hard blow down upon him as he was left undefended, and for a moment he was disabled. While these things took place, however, one of his men ran after my wife, and another after the prince. By some desperate action, I may have saved one, but I hesitated. I was torn between them and both were lost. On one side was my love, to whom my soul is devoted, and on the other was the prince, the only heir to the throne, the only hope for Atilta. I could not decide, so fate decided for me. If only there were another cure for indecision!
A dozen men came from the direction of the castle, aiding those who had control over Celestine and her companions. Willarinus, at the same time, eluded the grasp of the men who held him and fled into the forest. Seeing that Celestine was beyond my help, I abandoned her and followed Willarinus. But before I could overtake him, Nicholas – the elder Montague – engaged me in combat. It was not possible for me to flee.
Our melee was fierce, but at last I overcame him and was able to escape alive from his men, albeit badly wounded. I chased after the prince. Yet I could find no trace of him anywhere in the forest nearby. As for the men who had followed him, I found their lifeless bodies a short way from the clearing. My first thought was that the prince had killed them with the sword he wielded. Upon closer inspection, however, I found the traitors had been killed by a bear, with claw marks at their necks. I looked to the ground for prints that might explain what had happened, and at length I found the prince’s feet fleeing into the forest. Beyond where the bodies of the men rested, he was followed no more. Yet something strange appeared twenty feet to the left of his tracks: the prints of a full grown black bear. I followed them both for five miles, but they disappeared into a stream, and I could catch no trace of them again.
That was three days ago, and since then I have searched without ceasing, but with only vanity’s assistance. I am afraid for Willarinus; but, for now, it is only the forest that can save him. Whatever killed the men who followed him is now his only hope. As for myself, I will rest and then see to the situation in Eden. Time is short.
Farewell to whoever may pick this up. Signed, Alfonzo
The two men were silent after reading the letter. Vahan and Alfonzo were alone; Casper had gone off on some other task, and whether it was sinister or not did not matter to them. It seemed as if even the birds had stopped singing, and the wind had stopped blowing, such was the silence that prevailed. At length, Vahan spoke.
“I am ever loyal to Atilta, and to her royal family,” he said. “Can it be that Willard of the Forest is none other than Willarinus, the prince?”
“I believe so. The name, the background, the sword: it is solid and circumspect evidence.”
“Horatio the bear, could he have been protector?”
“No, for he isn’t more than five years old. But perhaps there is a link between them that made their friendship possible.”
“What can you mean? Keep nothing from me for fear of my telling it to others, for I am loyal.”
“If I hesitate in speech,” began Alfonzo, “It is only because I am hesitant in thought. But I will tell you what I am thinking: perhaps there is a clan of bears that watches over the royal family. It sounds absurd, I know. I would dismiss it without thought myself, if I had not seen the bear prints, and if – whenever I walked with Willarinus in the forest – I did not catch glimpses of bears in the distance.”
“There is a tale in the house of the King of France, the other branch of the Plantagenets,” said Vahan, “That Atilta is a magical land, the last of the magical lands of earth, like an isolated bubble of myth in the middle of the medieval world. It was said that before mankind had traveled from their origins, the land was filled with dwarves, dragons, fairies, and all such creatures. But as the human population grew, the others declined. When the populations of Egypt and Greece grew too large, the magical creatures moved to the island of Atlantis. Their magic made it prosper and gave it defenses against the encroachments of mankind, the legends say, until at last the avarice and lust of the humans effected them as well, and their land was sunk in the sea under their self- oppressions. The tales say Atilta is the same, that some day it too will sink beneath the sea.”
“Yes, but that is a fairy tale, Vahan,” Alfonzo said, “And such things are not to be believed. We must focus on ending the oppressions on Atilta, without thoughts of the mythological.” He paused and looked anxiously at the forest around them. “Did you hear that?”
Alfonzo unsheathed his sword and leapt to his feet as he spoke, cocking his head to the side as he listened to the sounds of a man running through the forest. At length Casper appeared, with a look of wild fear in his eyes.
“Be alert! There is an ambush at hand!”
Alfonzo looked him over closely, then turned to Vahan and said, “Arm yourself.”
“Be quick about it,” Casper gasped from his running, “For Montague is coming!”
Chapter 15
Mere moments after Casper came out of the forest, fifteen men followed him into the clearing which surrounded the giant oak tree. Jonathan Montague led them, his dark hair combed forward at the temples as before, his gait strict and emotionless. They emerged at a brisk run, and, like a well-trained legion, circled around the three freedom fighters. Montague pulled back to a walk as his men did this, and entered their circle with an air of victory. He waved his hand and they drew their swords, forming a wall of steel around Alfonzo, Vahan, and Casper.
Montague was the first to speak.
“Alfonzo of Melborough,” he laughed deeply, “Who would have thought the King of the Forest would find himself surrounded? Surely, not I. What of you, Casper? Does it strike you as ironic, as unexpected?”
“No, but you will be struck with the irony in my steel blade, if you dare advance another step,” the ranger
