The Forgotten King

sides this evening.”

“That I see,” Alfonzo returned, “And for that I am grateful. Yet Willard’s suspicious facade shows his falseness, if not in character than in presentation. You have used a move in your fighting that I have only seen used by the royal house of Plantagenet,” he turned to Willard, “And you execute it with the royal family’s own sword! You must reveal yourself to me.”

“I cannot,” was the only reply.

“And why is that? Your secret is safe with us, but we must know,” was the firm answer.

“I cannot tell you because I am nothing more than I appear,” Willard hesitated, “A monk and a hermit. Your suspicions are unfounded.”

Alfonzo stroked his pointed goatee and held Willard in a penetrating look. The latter yielded to the probing.

At last, Alfonzo let his eyes wander and whispered to himself, “Can it be true?”

Aloud, he said, “What of Horatio? Who is he, and what?”

Willard winked at the bear, who mumbled some inaudible remarks.

“He speaks only Latin,” Willard said, “But he says that he, too, is but a monk, though his flesh sometimes consumes more than a monk is entitled to.”

“Indeed?” the blond Fardy laughed, “I would think him an enormous animal, myself, with all that he eats. He is a hairy man, as well, though that never made a beast of anyone. Too much ale will do such things to a man,” and he sighed.

A faint smile flickered across Alfonzo’s lips, “ Vincitneveritas peric’lum , Horatio?”

The bear mumbled something else unintelligible, but it did not fool Alfonzo.

“Perhaps he speaks French, Willard, but that is no Latin.”

“It does not seem like Latin to the untrained ear, perhaps, but you must remember that he and I have been hermits for many years. His Latin has decayed during that time.”

“And your Atiltian has not, I see? But you forget: I taught the crown prince Latin, so I would not say my ear is untrained.”

“In fifteen years, his vocabulary has become a new dialect of Latin, the forest Latin,” and Willard donned an ecclesiastical look.

“Then you would not mind if I took a closer look at Horatio’s face, that I might be aided by his eyes in understanding his speech?”

“He is mostly blind, and his eyes show little emotion. Furthermore, he has taken a vow to conceal his skin from the sun.”

“He moves deftly for a blind man. Yet, I cannot rightly break his vow.”

Willard sighed with relief, though almost imperceptibly.

Alfonzo saw it, however, and continued with a slight smile. “Osbert, Archibald, bring some oak branches to shade Horatio’s skin from the sun.”

They obeyed and in a moment Horatio’s body was in a thick shade, with the two men holding branches above his head. Every eye in the camp was fixed intently on his head as Alfonzo’s hand slowly reached to pull back the hood. Willard sweated and turned his head. Every inch that the hand drew closer, they heads of the others advanced a foot. In a moment there was a small, tight circle of curious faces around the impostor monk.

Alfonzo pulled the hood back with a quick jerk, revealing Horatio’s hairy head. His snout was half open with his tongue sticking out, and his eyes had a curious glaze on them. Nothing was said, though every mouth was opened and every eye strained itself to see the trick. But there was none: Horatio was fully a bear.

“Yet another piece of trickery on your part, Willard,” he said. “Have you said anything we can believe?”

“I never said Horatio was a monk, I merely communicated his own words. And as for his Latin, it sounded good enough to me,” Willard grinned.

Alfonzo was reassured by his easy attitude, and it calmed his suspicions.

“Very well,” he said. “I do not accuse you of lying for malicious reasons, for if we had known that Horatio was a bear, it would have alarmed us, had we not already known his easy temperament. But it proves that you have indeed been lying, and that you are no monk. Listen, we know of a prince who appeared during the attack on Lord Milada. Hismoni tells me he was the attacker, though I have yet to speak with Milada himself. A few days later, you appear from nowhere. You fight like a prince, you speak like a prince, and you wield a prince’s sword. Who are you Willard? Know before you answer that I will not judge you for the attack, before all is known. You have shown yourself to be fair, with Vahan, with the Fardy brothers, and with me. Therefore, you are innocent. But you must tell me now who you are.”

Willard paused. “I cannot tell you,” he hesitated, “Because I do not know myself who I rightly am.”

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