A True King For A False King
Everyone has a story. A tale of their ups, downs, challenges, thoughts, feelings… and t'would be an honor to share mine with thou.
Raised in the village of Wylevon, I knew everyone around me. Twas a dull existence. Father had a friend, Sir Alexander's steward Charles, who would stop by more often than not. He was a glimmer of the extraordinary that I clung to. From him I learned of things that made my life seem so out of place. Charles often would say my mind was more fit for the palace than for the life I did lead. And with Sir Alexander always hiring some villagers to help around his castle, my goal was to get hired there and find a fine gentleman to live a secure life inside the palace walls with milord's blessing.
My father, Byron Woodcutter, was an influential man that all trusted for good reason. My mother, Myra Woodcutter, had died in the past year. It had devastated Father. I had to assume all of Mother's old responsibilities. I matured very quickly and lost sight of all the simple fun I used to have.
I had one friend in town, Gregory Blacksmith. He was cordial, even friendly. But he was suited for his life as I was not for mine. And so I did not reach out to him, or any of the others besides the civil and hospitable common courtesies we exchanged.
Then one day, at ten and nine years of age, things changed. The weather in the last few months had been ominous, though how no one noticed escaped me. What failed to escape others' notice though was a stranger in town.
Everyone guessed him to be about twenty winters old, but the aura of him spoke of more wisdom and experience than can be gathered in such a short time. A hood covered his face with shadow, and his dark grey cloak kept both wind and prying eyes away. A gossip in town, Vachel overheard and relayed to all the name of our stranger was Raemius.
With the sun hidden like it had been of late and the wind thrashing all who found themselves in it's way, twas surprising to find him walking around and not finding shelter at the inn. Curious, I approached him. I couldn't read him as he didn't change pace.
"What be thy business? There be no need for anyone to come to Wylevon. And then to not seek refuge but to go for a walk… I wish to know why."
He turned to me. Such a movement let me witness that he was a stranger. A half-blood, part foreigner and part native. Usually that meant he was royal. "But I understand if thee finds no reason to confide in me, sir."
He pulled back his hood to reveal himself. Hair so black that Night should find cause to envy and eyes such a deep brown as to seem black as they pierced through thy soul, finding all manner of vice and virtue; I confess he seemed surreal. I wondered if he would see anything in me of any measure of worth.
"In actuality, I came here to speak to Sir Alexander. Doth thou know how I might be granted a private audience with him?"
"A private audience is rarely given. But I do have an unorthodox plan. Thou couldst ask my father to deliver the lumber milord has requested. Then thee couldst hold back and ask around inside the castle grounds to get your audience."
I inwardly winced, suddenly remembering that my plans had earned me many a strange look. I hoped that Raemius wouldst not consider me a changeling or something else to avoid. I searched his eyes for a hint as to what I could expect.
"Sounds like a good start. I gather thou doth not know much of palace life?" I was astonished that he didn't consider me an oddity. But who was I to question this?
"No sir. My life consists of helping out around the village. Next year I hope to get a palace job though." I knew I was naïve compared to him. But then again, he was naïve in the ways of Sir Alexander and Wylevon. I could help him, and perhaps he would inadvertently teach me.
"What's thy name? Perhaps I could recommend thee to the staff." I thought that would be such a fantastic thing.
"My name is Marian Woodcutter. And if you ask my father so you can get in, tell him I suggested it. My father is Byron Woodcutter."
He bowed to me and I curtsied hastily to meet his. "Thank thee, Marian. I hope to see thee anon."
And so Raemius walked on as I stood there. The wind howled, though I swear I heard a wolf join in with it's forlorn cry. I felt better than ever. I wondered if an adventure would result from this.
In the forest, I sought out Meacktranare. My wolf companion has advice and confidence that I lack, and certainly needed now. I just hoped I didn't intrude on his supper; he could be quite cranky when that happened.
"What is it Raemius? Thou doth never ventured to sneak upon myself without some question in thy head."
I sighed with a smile. He knew me well indeed. Twas amazing, how alike a man and wolf could be.
"Thou art correct Meacktranare. I found a way into the castle this night, but I wonder after the being who helped me. Thou doth remember that in each town there is always the village sweetheart that all do dote upon? This girl, no longer a child, is not such, though all do love her for good reason. She is worth so much more and she tries so hard to fit in that it is lost to her."
Meacktranare stared back at me, a certain knowing there alongside a question.
"What is thy question Raemius? The girl might make something of herself where she is. Thou hath not asked thy question, wherefore I shall ask mine. Why doth thou care for this girl when thou hath seen centuries of wenches and never thought twice of them?"
Curses. He asked me to answer the very question I wish I could answer. Perhaps I liked her. Perhaps I saw in her a likeness of myself but without the aid I had received. Perhaps I just wanted to feel the hero for once where I was often viewed the villain. Perhaps I wanted a human friend who could help me feel less burdened.
"There are many possibilities, though I know naught which would be the main contributor. But so great are the possibilities that I feel that regardless of future events, I would not regret asking her if she would wish to join us."
Meacktranare's eyes shone with happiness as he always did when he was pleased in helping me come to my own conclusion. The sun's rays touched the trees on it's way down. I took that as my cue to go after Marian's father and talk to Sir Alexander.
I was talking to Father when Raemius came. His cloak was more revealing this time than the last. Now his white shirt with black vest showed that they fit him well alongside the breeches of fine quality. His black boots were well-worn, obviously stating he traveled frequently.
"Father, might I introduce thee to Raemius? Raemius, might I introduce thee to Byron Woodcutter?"
Father nodded and shook his hand. Father would hire any man, convinced was he of innate goodness in all. I like to think I share that quality, though not to that extent.
"Byron, I would like to ask if I could perhaps help thee with thy lumber deliverance to Sir Alexander. Thou would not need to think twice about me after an agreeance."
"Raemius boy, of course thee can help me. I shall pay you the normal wage now and see you in an hour's time at the moat's entrance."
And so Father walked off after paying Raemius, leaving the latter alone with me. Raemius was unmoving, statuesque. I felt awkward, unsure of whether I should speak or leave or do anything at all save breathe.
"Marian, I have a question for thee."
Startled, I needed a second to calm down. I also couldn't trust my voice to not betray my surprise. I nodded for him to continue.
"Are you happy in Wylevon?"
"Ummmm… I wouldn't know. Wylevon is all I know, though I often feel as if I don't belong. I wonder what my future will bring. If I shall find adequate security. Father has me alone, though if I were gone I know a lady or two around who would happily have him without me in the picture. In truth, I know not what to do. I suppose I am waiting for a direction to follow with my mind, heart and soul."
He gulped. I wondered as to why he was nervous. Something was strange, a quality I always liked, but I always wondered why.
"Marian, have thine eyes seen the past few months the darkness upon the land? Tis no good our king is serving out to all. He hath not deserved the throne he sits upon. And I would be lying to thee if I said that I did either. My apologies Marian, but I am the true heir to the throne. A bastard, yes; but a child of royalty more fit to wear that crown than our King Gonrel."
I stood agasp. I knew something was afoot, but I did not think so far as to treason and bastardy. But I felt a need to respond.
"Raemius, I have seen the darkness that no one else seems to have seen. But if thee is asking me if I would rather see you upon that throne without any reason as to why, I must ask if thee is mad."
"Thou does bring up a good point. King Gonrel was the Duke of Augendy and the betrothed of my mother, Princess Christianya. My mother had fallen in love with Prince Remton and had me. She refused to see anyone save her ladies for a full year in order to keep me safe. But finally, Gonrel forced his way in. Seeing me with her, he flew into a rage. He killed my mother and then sought after my father. I know naught if Gonrel ever succeeded in that endeavor, but he kept the secret of killing my mother. A lady had hidden under the bed and had gathered me in her arms while Gonrel's attention was on my mother. And up until the last few months, the Duke of Dershore was ruling us as king. But now a murderer calls himself king and I shall not have that."
It finally made sense. He was not out to commit treason; rather, he only wanted the throne to remain unblemished by such acts as murder. As such, in his mind he'd taken himself out of the running simply by the mar of his birth.
"Sir, I believe thou doth follow a just cause. But how might I help? I am but a girl; I know not how to play politics or wield a weapon. Thou would do much better convincing men stout of heart to follow thee."
Oh Marian. She is more of an idealist then I am. 'Men stout of heart' were hard to come by, and her heart had more courage than the bravest man I knew.
"Actually Marian, thou art wrong. Thou doth possess sense, which is the very foundation of politics when mixed with emotion. I know thou reads people well, and I believe that alone will help you. As to wielding a weapon, thou doth feel things so acutely that I do fear for anyone who tries to trifle with thee. In all truth Marian, I know not how you might help. But just the same, I would enjoy the companionship of such a friend which I feel would be help on it's own. I know thee will be of some help, of which kind I dare not venture to aim."
At dusk, Father and I were with Raemius at the moat's entrance. Father stood by the two horses who pulled the cart of lumber whilst Raemius had the hard job of making sure that no lumber fell behind. I sat on Mother's mule, Titania. Mother had said she was stubborn as any royal and so had named her after the Queen of Fairies, as it was possible that Titania simply wished a bit of sport.
The gate-keeper Ronald recognized us immediately, as we were frequently in to deliver more firewood. He smiled at me and I smiled back, though as I saw Raemius for a second, I swore I saw self-control being hard-pressed from some anger. I chose to ignore it, knowing no one ever answered me when I questioned them.