“You can turn back,” Brother Edik said to him. “We three will go to the king without you.”
“No,” said Cannoc. “It must be done, and I will do it.”
“What happens when a king enters the castle where he once ruled?” asked Brother Edik.
“I do not know,” said Cannoc. “There have been many kings since me. Perhaps they will not remember me.” He shrugged. And then he sang a small song:
“We do not know what
will become.
What will become
is what becomes,
and that is all
we know.”
Cannoc looked over at Brother Edik and smiled.
“But do you believe the prophecies that are written in the Chronicles of Sorrowing?” asked Brother Edik.
“I visited the book when I was king,” said Cannoc. “And my counselor went often and studied it, as all counselors must. He told me what it said. And yet.”
“And yet?” said Brother Edik.
“And yet there was no prophecy written that said I would walk away from my throne. But I did. I did walk away.”
“And what of Beatryce? Do you believe the prophecy about her? That she will unseat the king?”
“What will become is what becomes, and that is all I know,” said Cannoc.
Ahead of them, Answelica walked with her head up high, taking in great snorts of air as if she could smell Beatryce nearby.
Cannoc said, “I do believe the best and wisest thing we can do is to follow the goat.”
Brother Edik smiled.
They walked in silence then. The dust of the road rose up around them in brown clouds that hovered and fell with their footsteps.
Jack Dory turned and looked at the men.
“Why do you go so slowly when we are so near?” he said.
Answelica turned also. She gave them both a look laced with threats of violence.
“Go on, go on,” said Cannoc. “We are following.”
The goat and the boy turned and went on.
“I wonder,” said Cannoc, “if you believe in the prophecy of Beatryce. Do you want it to be true?”
“I want her to know that we came for her,” said Brother Edik. “That is what I want above all things, for her to know that we came for her.”
“Yes,” said Cannoc. “Well, then, what you believe in is love.”
“I suppose so,” said Brother Edik. He put his hands into the pocket of his robe and found a maple candy in the shape of a flower. He pulled it out and held it in the palm of his hand. “Here,” he said to Cannoc.
“Ah,” said Cannoc. “Something sweet.” His face filled with a sudden light. “Is there just the one candy? Or do you have another, so that the boy may have one, too?”
Brother Edik pulled a crescent moon from his pocket.
Cannoc’s face became brighter still. “I believe that the goat could benefit from some sweetness, don’t you?”
Brother Edik retrieved a maple candy in the shape of a little man.
“Excellent,” said Cannoc. “I thank you.” He took the candies from Brother Edik. He called out, “Jack Dory! Answelica! Here is something for you!”
He walked toward the boy and the goat, carrying the candy in his outstretched hand. He was smiling.
The story of the mermaid came to her as if she had read it long ago, as if there had been another book in the tutor’s bag of wonders and she had read its contents and seen its pictures and remembered the whole of it.
“How does it go, now, Beatryce?” she asked herself. “What happens next? You must remember.”
And it so happened that there were sailors who saw the mermaid on the rock one evening.
They saw the sun’s rays catching the light of the jewels encrusted in her tail, and the sailors were properly dazzled, and they spoke to one another again and again about what they had seen.
They could not get over it.
They felt that it was a good and wondrous thing—that they had been promised something—each time they caught sight of the mermaid and her jeweled tail.
The sailors’ stories of the mermaid were told and retold until they reached the ears of the king, who learned that there was a mermaid whose tail was studded with sapphires and pearls, rubies and diamonds.
The king thought that his life would not be complete until he could own this mermaid and her jeweled tail. And the counselor said to the king, “You must indeed have the mermaid. You must have whatever you want, Your Majesty.”
And so the counselor sent the king’s soldiers out to find her.
If only Rosellyn had heeded the words of the one-eyed seahorse!
If only she had listened to her mother and had not stayed above the water so long!
But Rosellyn was a mermaid with a very strong will and she had done as she wanted, and so it came to pass that the king’s men found her.
And took her.
The seahorses were left behind, chattering and wailing.
But Morelich, the one-eyed seahorse, managed to fling himself from the water at the last moment and attach himself to Rosellyn’s tail. In this way, he made the journey with her from the sea to the castle of the king.
And at the castle of the king, under strict instructions from the counselor, a container was built and filled with water, and the mermaid with the jeweled tail was put on display in the throne room.
“Terribleness,” Morelich whispered into her ear. “Do not speak. Do not look. Do not meet their eyes. Never. Never.”
The king stared at her, and the noblemen and the noble ladies stared at her. And the king’s counselor stared at her, too, and smiled a terrible smile.
Rosellyn kept her eyes lowered.
She looked away.
She said nothing.
She grew wan.
She thought often of the words from a story that the seahorses had once told her: What world is this I now inhabit, and how shall I live in it?
And then it happened that her jewels began to fall away.
One by one, the sapphires and pearls and rubies and diamonds turned to ordinary stones that sank to the bottom of the container.
The king ordered the stones collected and broken open, and it was done.
“They are nothing but rocks through and through, sire,” said the counselor.
The king was enraged.
He stood before the mermaid and said, “You will turn the rocks back into jewels. I command it!”
But Rosellyn did not know how to do this.
Morelich whispered in her ear. He said, “They will destroy you. Do not let them. Do not let them destroy you.”
Beatryce stopped speaking the words of the story.
There was a light coming toward her.
“Who is there?” she called.
She heard again, from far away, the sound of weeping.
The light grew bright.
It was the king, a great golden crown upon his head.
Beatryce stood.
“I wanted to see your face,” the king said to Beatryce. “My counselor says that you are the one of whom the prophecy speaks. He says that I should not doubt him. But I wanted to see your face to know if it was true.”
He held the candle out before him and studied her.
Beatryce wanted to say to the man, You killed my brothers. You tried to kill me. But you failed. Here I stand before you. You failed.
But she did not say it. Instead, Beatryce opened her mouth and said one word: “Once.”
Once.
“Yes?” said the king. He leaned toward her.
“Once,” said Beatryce of Abelard, “there was a mermaid, and everywhere she went, she was attended by seahorses.”
Deep within the bowels of the castle, Beatryce told the king a story, and outside the castle, there came a monk and a goat, an old bearded man bent over a cane, and a boy with a sword.
Brother Edik and Cannoc stayed back while Jack Dory and Answelica approached the castle drawbridge. It was
guarded by two soldiers.
Jack Dory turned to the goat. He said, “Is she here?”
Answelica put her nose up in the air and sniffed. She looked at Jack Dory from the corner of her eye. She nodded.
This goat! He loved her!
He nodded back. “Well, then, we will go and do what we can do.”
Together, he and Answelica approached the guards at the drawbridge.
“I have come to see the king!” said Jack Dory.
The sun was shining brightly. Answelica was giving off a powerful smell of goat. The bee was buzzing in lazy circles around Jack Dory’s head, the sword was resting on his shoulder, and there was not a cloud in the sky.
“Ha,” said the guard on the left. “The boy has come to see the king.”
“Ha-ha,” said the guard on the right. “He has come to see the king.”
“Brought your goat with you, did you?” said the left guard.
“She is not my goat,” said Jack Dory. “She is her own goat, and I must warn you: She is as anxious to see the king as I am. She is very set on getting her way, this goat. And it does not take much to anger her.”
Answelica danced from hoof to hoof. Jack Dory put a hand on her head, to stop her from sending the guards flying.
The right guard said, “The goat is anxious to see the king, and it don’t take much to anger the goat.”
The left guard said, “I heard it, didn’t I? It don’t take much to anger the goat.”
Jack Dory felt Answelica’s body quiver with rage. There was not much time.
“I have come to return something to the king,” said Jack Dory. “This sword. It did once belong to a king, and I am returning it.”
The left guard reached forward and took the sword from Jack Dory’s hands. “Now you have returned it. Get along, boy.”
And then came Cannoc’s voice. He was singing.
“I bring,
I bring,
I bring
word.
I bring
word for
the king.”
Cannoc bent low over the cane, tucked his head, and kept his face hidden as he approached the soldiers.
The left guard spat at Cannoc’s feet. “Go on, beggar,” he said. “The king does not want your words.”
But Cannoc continued to sing.
“I bring,
I bring
word.
I bring word
and truth.
I bring truth
and sorrowing.
I bring a prophet
for the king.”
He stopped singing and shouted, “Perhaps you have not heard me! I have brought a prophet to the king!”
Brother Edik stepped forward, his eye rolling in his head, his whole being trembling.
He said to the guards, “You will admit the boy, and you will admit the goat. You will admit the beggar. You will admit me! I am the prophet who brings words of warning for the king! Hear my words! You will make a dire mistake if you do not admit us!” His eye rolled wildly in his head.
He looked absolutely, positively mad.
His words were followed by a high noise of keening from Answelica.
Jack Dory knew that the sound the goat made was one of impatience and rage, but to untutored ears, the goat’s scream sounded otherworldly, terrifying.
The left guard and right guard looked at each other.
Together, they motioned for the drawbridge to be lowered.
Jack Dory felt a wild shot of joy go through him.
He would enter the castle.
He would find her.
He would see her face again.
The bee buzzed triumphantly around his head.
Bee.
B-E-E.
B.
For Beatryce.
In the dungeon, Beatryce told the king a story. “And so it was,” said Beatryce. She stood with her forehead pressed against the bars of the cell. The king leaned toward her.
She took a deep breath and said, “And so it was that the noblemen and noble ladies did not come anymore to look at the mermaid and her tail.”
The king sighed.
Beatryce continued.
The container with the mermaid in it was moved to a tower room high up in the castle. The mermaid was alone, except for the one-eyed seahorse Morelich, who spoke nothing but words of doom.
And then, after a time, even Morelich fell silent.
Rosellyn missed her mother. She missed the great green depths of the sea. She missed the chorus of seahorses whispering seahorse stories and seahorse songs in her ear.
There was a char boy who came once a day to the tower room to feed the mermaid, but Rosellyn turned her back to him and would not let him see her face.
She did not speak to him.
She spoke to no one.
Late in the afternoon, the sun entered the tower room through one narrow window. The mermaid looked at the rays of the sun and thought how she would never again see her mother.
And then one day, a blackbird came in through the window in a great flutter of wings.
He perched on the sill and looked down at the mermaid and said, “I have carried this message to you a long way. It came to me from a seagull who had spoken to a group of seahorses. The message is this: Your mother looks for you. I have come to lead you home.”
Rosellyn stared at the bird.
“We shall all, in the end, be led to where we belong,” said the blackbird.
“But how?” said Rosellyn. “I am a prisoner here.”
“We shall all, in the end, find our way home,” intoned the bird.
“How?” said Rosellyn.
“Ask,” said the blackbird.
And then he flapped his wings and left the tower room through the narrow window.
The next day when the boy came to feed her, the mermaid turned and let him see her face. She spoke to him.
“Will you help me?” she said.
The boy was so surprised that he dropped the bowl he carried. “They said you could not speak.”
“Will you help me? I want to go home.”
“Where is your home?”
“I come from the sea,” said Rosellyn.
“What is the sea?” asked the char boy.
And Rosellyn then described the sea for him—how the water changed from blue to green and back again, and how the sun shone through its great depths. She told him of the fish and the plants that grew there. She told him of the seahorses, and how they told story after story, each story more strange and wonderful than the last.
The boy said, “I would like to see this magical place.”
“Will you help me?” asked Rosellyn. “Can you take me there?”
“Yes,” said the boy.
Here, Beatryce fell silent.
She could hear the king breathing.
She could hear the distant weeping.
She could feel the beating of her own heart.
“And then what happens?” said the king. “You must tell me how the story ends.”
“Must I?” said Beatryce.
They formed a procession. They marched through the great hall of the castle.
The goat came first, her head held up high.
Behind her was Jack Dory, and behind Jack Dory was Brother Edik, his hands in the sleeves of his robe, his wild eye rolling. He shouted, “I am bringing a prophecy for the king. Take me to the king!”
Cannoc followed them all, leaning on the cane, his face hidden, his steps shuffling and unsure.
The court musicians stopped their music. The noble ladies held their skirts up in both hands, afraid that the goat might brush against them. The men—the soldiers and the noblemen—looked into the eyes of the goat and put their hands upon their swords, preparing themselves for warfare.
There was a tense silence in the castle.
Answelica’s hooves, as they hit the stones of the castle floor, made the only sound.
“I have within me all the wor
ds, every word, of the Chronicles of Sorrowing!” shouted Brother Edik. “Take me to the king! I have a prophecy he must hear!”
Brother Edik was enjoying himself tremendously. He had never before so relished his strangeness, his wild eye.
Look at me now, Father, thought Brother Edik. See who I am.
The people parted. The four of them entered the throne room.
But the king was not upon his throne. Instead, there stood before them a man in black robes.
“You say you have a prophecy?” said the man. He smiled a twisted smile. “A prophecy the king must hear? I myself would love to hear it. I am very fond of prophecies.”
Brother Edik opened his mouth, ready to say whatever words came to him, but Jack Dory stepped in front of him. “It is not this monk who bears news for the king,” said Jack Dory. “It is the king himself, here before you. He is the prophecy in the flesh.”
Jack Dory turned to Cannoc. “I am sorry, Cannoc, but you must now reveal who you are. For Beatryce.”
Cannoc nodded sadly, as if he had known it would come to this. And then he unfolded himself and stood up straight. He looked around him. He said, “I am no beggar, nor do I have need of a cane, for I am King Ehrengard.”
There was a great murmuring among the noblemen and ladies, among the soldiers and musicians.
“Ehrengard?” they said. “Ehrengard is dead.”
“Has he come back from the dead?”
“Could it be so?”
The musicians started up a triumphal song and then let it trail away. The soldiers banged their swords against the stone floor.
The man in the black robes who stood beside the throne shouted, “The man is an impostor! Imprison him!”
“I am no impostor,” said Cannoc. He did not shout. He said the words wearily. “I am the king.”
The musicians started their song again. The soldiers came and gathered around Cannoc. One of the older soldiers reached out and touched Cannoc’s shoulder.
“Sire,” he said. “King Ehrengard. I remember you well.” He knelt down before Cannoc. “The true king has at last returned.”
“He is nothing but a charlatan!” shouted the man in black robes.
As for Jack Dory, he was paying attention to the goat. She had her nose up in the air. She looked directly at him.
The Beatryce Prophecy Page 11
