by Robin Hobb
Yet all winters must end, even those infused with grief and injustice. Spring came, and with it kinder weather. Thaws melted the snows and the early crocus began to bloom. The queen became less pale and sickly and ate with a better appetite and her child swelled her belly. Farmers planted and as the fields began to sprout, Queen Wiffen was delivered of a boy-child, hale and hearty. His birth was celebrated far more than even the birth of a prince deserved, for all seemed to feel it marked a turning point and an end to our ill fortune. The heir secured the throne and the Farseer line. All would now be well.
And when the prince was two months old, I stood with the others to watch his name bound to him in the old Farseer tradition. Courage was his name, and his father passed him through the flames and poured the earth over his head and chest and dunked him well. All saw it as a good omen when the boy sputtered, sneezed and then laughed aloud for the first time in his life.
That laughter spread throughout the observers and as the boy was lifted high, I joined in. For as King Canny elevated the naked prince that all might behold him, I looked on proof that he was truly the rightful heir to the crown. For on the back of the child’s left arm, I saw that which I had seen also on his father’s arm; a small birthmark in the shape of a dark bird with outstretched wings.
And so I write here, in a clear hand, as my son Redbird would wish, the truth of the prince’s lineage. Prince Courage Farseer, may he prosper and rule long, is the son of the rightful king, King Charger Farseer, son of Queen-in-Waiting Caution Farseer, daughter of King Virile and Queen Capable Farseer. And grandson of Lostler of Chalced, Stablemaster and Witted one.
