The Forgotten King

by Jonathan Dunn

  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.

  Alfonzo finished the letter and looked to Osbert. “The news is good, then – at least, better than I anticipated. He has tested the men, and they are loyal. I know not how, yet he says they are true to the cause.”

  “To me that news is less than good.”

  “How so, Osbert?”

  “It means the traitors are among us, and it makes my heart as cold as the earth from whence it came, to think any of my comrades would do such a thing.”

  “Yes, our feelings are the same, but we must put ourselves beyond our feelings, when dealing with matters that are beyond ourselves.”

  “And the freedom of Atilta is at stake here.”

  “Exactly,” replied Alfonzo, “You must sleep now. We leave early.”

  “Goodnight,” and with that Osbert, the trusty ranger of the forest, went off to catch his rest.

  For the rest of the night Alfonzo sat motionless on guard. His tall figure was stony and reserved, as always. His long, bound hair gave him an ancient look, like a statue from the past. His goatee had not been trimmed in many days, though the rest of his face was kept clean, and his mustache was beginning to droop in an arch over his mouth. His eyes burned, flaming with memories, mostly of the crown prince, his youthful friend and protege; and of his love, Celestine. Then, when these thoughts passed through him, his eyes went from flames to mirrors. Injustice was his only enemy, the one who manifested it merely his enemy’s form. He had no hatred of Gylain or of Jonathan Montague, or any of the others – merely of their actions. And why should he, for those who were pardoned from above would never be judged, and those who were not were already condemned.

  “Patience, Alfonzo,” he murmured to himself, “Justice will prevail. And if it does not, than life will not live to know of it.”

  Chapter 11

  The dawn was slowly passing and the warmth of day replacing it with every step it took in retreat. The party congregated around the camp, and there was no sign of commotion or disturbance, for Montague had entirely disappeared the previous day. The sun shone down at just the right angle that it streamed in over the tops of the trees like a divine spotlight, slivering down and squirming with the mist that rose up through it. There was a slight breeze, warm to the touch, and the air was thick and pure, full of life.

  The walls of the camp had been partly disassembled and used for firewood, for all that needed to be defended against was the morning chill. The trunk that was laid out against the stream still rested there, along with a few of the rangers and a robin that sang to them in exchange for food, a forest minstrel. Several more of Alfonzo’s followers were sprawled out in the center of the clearing, laying in a bed of buttercups and bell hoppers: an orange and yellow flower that had the shape of a bell and smelled strongly of apples. The hopper in the name came from the fact that they closed up at night, and in the early dawn a careful observer could see them popping open one by one.

  The rest of the group sat around the campfire, which was starting to fall asleep just as the men were fully waking up. Willard and Horatio were next to one another, talking with signs about the Fardy brothers. Willard explained that they were not wholly insane, just mostly so, while Horatio gave the brother nearest him a questioning look every now and then. Upon receiving it, the brother would return it with an upraised eyebrow and an open mouth. Horatio would then pretend to be looking beyond him, at something in the forest, squinting and moving his head back and forth as though he could just barely make the thing out, until he finally gave up and turned back to Willard, forsaking the thing which wasn’t there to begin with.

  Vahan Lee sat beside Willard, listening to the talk of the others and keeping his own to himself. He was an interesting character, to say the least, for he spoke with a heavy French accent, and was dressed according to the French fashions of the day. Yet he claimed to be a loyal Atiltian. Indeed, he stressed this loyalty to the point of obsession. But his features were fair, and his eyes told of simplicity over duplicity. He was not threatening, but amusing, with his portly figure, and his facial expressions which were vividly humorous: at once confident and frightened. His purposes were evidently on the side of freedom, but they were also mysterious. It was this that caused Alfonzo to take him prisoner, for Vahan seemed a strange little man. He took him to ascertain what his intentions were, and, so far, they were proving good.

  Meanwhile, the Fardy brothers sat beside Alfonzo and Osbert. The Fardy brothers were known to be at times overly serious, at others overly whimsical, at others overly angry, and at others overly proud of their humility. They switched between these moods without warning and as a group, so that one moment they would be commending each other for being patient, while the next they displayed the opposite quality.

  Alfonzo, on the other hand, was almost always serious. When he wasn’t, it was easy to think that he was, for he never let himself stray from his purpose. His eyes were always burning, and Blaine Griffith once heard the men say they were surprised they never smoldered out. Yet they never did. He was the type of man who thought more than most, but who kept the fruits of that thinking to himself. The more a man thinks the more he keeps silent, some would say, and it was true, at least, in the case of Alfonzo. The most mysterious thing about Alfonzo was his past, not his present, and the way he looked at Willard let on to something that was going on within him. As he said himself, Alfonzo had been torn between his love, Celestine, and his duty, Willarinus. As a result, he lost them both.

  Osbert was a man that needed much less explanation, for he was a loyal ranger, good with his bow and sword and better with his heart. There were few men as selfless as he, and as willing to suffer. He had no thoughts of glory, or if he did he put them down, and did not allow them to affect his actions. He was by no means the wisest of men, yet he knew one thing that often escapes the wise: Habetsuum venenum blanda oratio, and is not the poison worse than the bite that gives it?

  Soon Alfonzo and the Fardy brothers finished their breakfast. At the same time, Willard and Horatio had said all they pleased to each other. The two groups, therefore, joined together and began speaking of the situation. Their conversation is as follows:

  ALFONZO : In the danger, as well as in peace, you have forgotten the main purpose of your journey, my dear Fardy brothers – to tell us the situation in Eden.

  BLOND FARDY : We thought it was good news that we brought. But our opinion has been changed by our kidnapping. If Gylain is willing to risk taking us, then he must feel our power is fading.

  BROWN FARDY : Which makes it a better time to strike him! Let him think he has us down, then we will jump up and clobber him like a hammer on a nail.

  BLACK FARDY : Perhaps we should take this time to secure our position. A watched pot never boils, you know.

  BLOND FARDY : Yes, but who is to say an unwatched pot does any better? As for myself, I’m of the opinion that we should dispense with this boiling business all together, and get on with roasting him out of there.

  VAHAN LEE : My sentiments of loyalty to Atilta are well known here, I believe. So I will venture to say that external strength should perhaps be solicited.

  BROWN FARDY : External strength makes external masters, and as for tyrants and despots, I prefer them domestic rather than foreign. To export one we need not import another, for at least he
re I do not need the wind to carry my curses over the sea.

  BLOND FARDY : I doubt you need the wind to carry your curses anywhere, my brother. And if you do, there is enough in your belly to do justice to the cause. Now, I know you are the most patient and forbearing man that ever lived, and it is my belief that if you became so heated as to curse another man, all the elements would join with you in the venture. But still, a foreign master bends me the wrong way, as they say.

  WILLARD : An ally from abroad will only be an ally, and it would be unwise to deny any assistance in this hour of danger. If the feast is prepared, yet there are few guests, it is better to invite those you do not know well, rather than bear the loneliness.

  ALFONZO : It will take more than just us to decide whether to ask the French for assistance. We must speak to Milada first.

  BLOND FARDY : We are headed to the Western Marches, and to Milada’s castle. Indeed, at double speed after the news we have heard.

  ALFONZO : Which is?

  BROWN FARDY : That Ivona is missing – kidnapped or run away.

  ALFONZO : Osbert and three of the others will go with you, to assist in the search. What are your plans, Vahan Lee?

  VAHAN LEE : I am loyal to cause of Atilta, and as you seem to be as well, I will follow you.

  ALFONZO [laughing]: I misjudged you by your French accent, but from what I have seen I think you must be one of those from the mainland who support us against Gylain.

  VAHAN LEE : I would rather remain anonymous until I am sure of my way.

  ALFONZO : Very well. Your courage has earned our trust.

  ALFONZO [turning to Willard]: Willard, friend, the day is getting on and we must do the same. I am anxious to see this place far behind us, and Montague with it. What do you mean to do once we part?

  WILLARD : When I rescued Milada of Erlich, I had no intention but to save an innocent traveler, yet it plunged me into this rebellion in a way which I had not expected. My mind has been troubled of late about certain things which surface in it, memories of the past and dreams of the future. At first I thought they were no more than the fancies of youth, to be derided and ignored. Yet with what has befallen me, I cannot but reconsider. I wonder whether it is good to disobey fate, and abandon the company into which I have fallen.

  ALFONZO : Then it was you who rescued Lord Milada?

  WILLARD : Indeed, but I thought you knew of it?

  ALFONZO : I knew of it, yet Hismoni told me that you were the attacker, and that he barely escaped with his life. After seeing you fight now, I can see why. Yet what I cannot think is how you could have done it. You say you did not, and I will take your word.

  WILLARD : It is either lies or mistakes. As I remember, the guard called Hismoni was unconscious throughout the fight, though I was surprised to see he was not wounded.

  ALFONZO : Not even wounded? I will have to think over this, Willard. But I am sure I have misheard him, for otherwise either one or the other of you is a liar. I trust Lord Milada, and he trusts Hismoni, so I have no doubts about him. And you I have seen myself, and I know a true man when I come across one. They are hard to find, since the coup, for power and right have been divorced. A man cannot fight for both, as he sometimes can. You, however, I know are true.

  WILLARD : You need only ask Lord Milada, and he will tell you what took place, for he saw the battle. Afterward, he promised me his daughter’s hand, though I cannot accept, for he thought me to be a prince.

  ALFONZO : And are you not a prince? You have heard, no doubt, what has befallen Ivona? Tell me, you have fought with us so far – for both Milada and the Fardy brothers – out of necessity. Now, however, the choice is yours. I would welcome your assistance, but I understand if you wish to remain neutral.

  WILLARD : I know little of the political situation in Atilta. I have lived here my whole life, it is true, yet the forest is far from civilized. I have rarely met men, and when I have, the speaking has been between our swords. How do things go?

  ALFONZO : I will not try to fool you, Willard. The rebellion has little chance of succeeding. Gylain is not loved by the people, nor is he just. Yet even in his cruelty he is no fool. Every man has a desire to be peaceful, to look the other way when wrongs are done to others, but when they themselves are not effected. Gylain, therefore, gives enough of a tolerant facade to appease the selfishness of men. He oppresses the people, he plunders their labor, he tortures their men, but he does so under the facade of the merits of each case. Were he to destroy a family merely because it opposed him, the people would be roused. Were he to execute the Fardy brothers merely because they support the rebellion, the public would demand justice. Yet he goes from one victim to another, pretending in each case they have done some illegal thing. As his reign is secured, the oppressions increase, and soon the time will come when he will be strong enough to act without pretensions.

  ALFONZO [continued]: There are a few nobles plotting against him. Yet it is only the morally noble man who fights when he has little to gain and much to lose, and nobility is not decided by such worths. If we do well, they will follow us as they now follow him, but if we fail they will quickly disown us. Milada of Erlich is the most ardent supporter of our freedoms. It deeply troubles me that spies and traitors within our own cause would attempt to take his life. Were it not for you, as you say, perhaps they would have done so.

  ALFONZO [continued]: Fate, indeed, has put you in our path, for if he were lost we would soon join him in the otherworld. There are rumors from the Western March that do not bode well for him if they are true, but the Fardy brothers are on their way there now, so we must be patient.

  BLOND FARDY : And there are none more patient than the Fardy brothers, Alfonzo. We should reach there the day after tomorrow.

  WILLARD : Then you will not soon be in Eden?

  BROWN FARDY : Not without a strong guard, friend. You can redeem the armor from our clerk though, for he knows our writing. If he troubles you, give him a good smack on the head and he will listen.

  BLOND FARDY : Or be patient, but my brother is always that.

  ALFONZO : Osbert will accompany the Fardy brothers; now that we know they are in danger, we will protect them to the last, as well as any other who needs our protection. Vahan Lee, now that you have heard more, do you still wish to join me?

  VAHANLEE : Yes, if I am allowed, sir.

  ALFONZO : Call me Alfonzo, not sir.

  VAHAN LEE : Very well. I am a loyal citizen of Atilta, Alfonzo, and since I have fallen in with you, I think I can do no better than to follow you from now on, without thought to any foreign monarch who might want to encourage the rebellion against Gylain.

  ALFONZO : You serve the French King, then?

  VAHAN LEE : Good gracious, sir! I, well, I do not know how you got that idea into your head, though I am sure that if I did serve him, he would want to let you know that he was with you against Gylain. I will follow you of my own accord, de bonne grace – excuse me my throat was dry – I meant to say that I would follow you with a good grace, degage – I mean, freely and easily.

  ALFONZO : Perhaps you had better keep silent for now, Vahan, and we will discuss this later when we are alone.

  VAHAN LEE : Good idea, Alfonzo, a very good idea.

  ALFONZO : Now, then: Thurston, Selmar, and Fritz will go with Osbert and the Fardy brothers to Milada’s castle, and once there will aid him however possible. Caspar will come with Vahan and myself to the southern hideout, to look over some documents. The rest will return to the caverns to patrol the road. Willard, have you come to a decision?

  WILLARD : Horatio and myself will take our disguise as monks once more and head north to the road, and from there eastward to Eden. I will join your rebellion, though I have a feeling that danger will find me on its own, and I need not search for it like the others.

  ALFONZO : Good, I trust fate will reward your fidelity with some adventures, and that those will do well for the cause of liberty. I have seen you and Horatio in action, and have no fear
for your safety, so I will send no rangers with you. A forest native can overcome many times his number of adopted forest dwellers, and with a bear at your side all is well. Still, I will warn you to beware that your disguise does not lead you into any traps or dangerous situations. Gylain has been at war with the church for some time now. He has bribed those who serve themselves more than God, and the others he has attacked. He has been sending masked soldiers to burn and ransack their monasteries, forcing them to flee overseas to find comfort. If you are harassed by his men, do not be afraid of utterly routing them, for it will not be viewed with suspicion. Many monks have turned to the martial arts to preserve themselves from their persecutors before, David foremost among them. In short, be careful.

  WILLARD : As I always am.

  ALFONZO : Even when we stole you from the road? But we will remember that no more, for you were outnumbered greatly, and still made a fight. Farewell, then, Willard.

  WILLARD : Farewell, I hope we will meet again soon.

  ALFONZO : As do I.

  And with that they took leave of one another, each going in the direction of his destination, one group south, one north, and one west. The council was broken, and sword was once more drawn, for in the forest danger is never distant, and enemies grow thicker than the trees.

  Chapter 12

  Lord Milada, whom Willard had saved from the bandits in the forest, was earl of the Western March, the thickly forested area between the southern portion of the Bay of Thunder and the ocean. It was a cradle of great wealth and fertility, but sparsely inhabited: for it was far from the population centers. Lord Milada of Erlich – the latter being his ancestral home – had been a stalwart follower of the previous king. When he was deposed, the leader of the coup – Gylain – made himself king and sent those who had been closest to the rightful royal family to the obscure regions of the inner forest. Offered an earldom larger in acreage than his ancestral one, Milada of Erlich had no choice but to accept. There he continued to make his lonely way, free from the bustle and ambition of Eden. He soon found, however, that he was more content in this domestic bliss than in the ambition of the city, though his worldly standing was much lower than before. His only occupation, now that he had no nobles to entertain, was to stand against Gylain, and there were rumors to the effect that he had been traveling to forge alliances against the tyrant. Indeed, the promising of his daughter to Willard had been partially out of a desire to ally himself with an outside power, and partially out of a desire to give her a strong husband in those days of turmoil.