Prince Robin was riding his pony in the forest one day when he came to a path he couldn't remember exploring before. The path was narrow and so overgrown, Robin and his father King Roland must have ridden right past it many times but had taken no notice.

Certe, thought the prince to himself. This trail looks as if no one has used it for a very long time.

What say you, bold Sir Butternut? He asked his pony. Are you as curious as I am?

Butternut nodded his shaggy head. The prince touched the heels of his felt slippers to the pony's flanks, and they set off at a trot, to see what great adventures they might find.

The path led them deeper and deeper into the woods. Even in the forest green shadow the day was unusually warm, and Robin was sweating in his red velvet doublet and under-shirt. His grey woollen hose were making him itch, and he wished he could wear the simple tunic other boys wore. One good tug on the rope belt around his waist and it would have been a simple thing to pull the tunic off over his head. But all the prince could do was unbutton his doublet. And curse his itchy hose. Unless...

Faith, thought Robin. But who is there to see?

He wrapped his hose slippers and shirt in his doublet and folded them into a neat bundle he tied with his belt. Thinking Butternut might like to be more comfortable too, he unbuckled the leather strap holding his saddle in place and lifted it off.

He piled everything next to the trail.

They will be here when we come back, he said to Butternut.

He swung himself easily on to the pony's back and they set off again. They came to an ancient oak tree where the path appeared to divide in two. He left Butternut munching on fallen acorns and walked a short way along the path on the left to see where it might lead. Robin was sure he could hear the sound of running water. He was thirsty and a small stream or brook would be welcome.

He hadn't gone very far when the ground began to slope down steeply. The path turned into a muddy track. The prince lost his footing and fell on his bottom. He started to slide downhill. He couldn't stop. He grabbed at saplings and small bushes to slow his descent, but he just kept going faster and faster. It was scary. But exciting too. And Robin was laughing.

The trees ahead thinned. He could see sunlight through their branches. The sound of water grew louder. The forest ended. He was heading straight for the edge of a cliff.

Then. Suddenly - He was flying through the air!

The water was an ice cold shock. He tumble-twisted and kicked for the surface and came up gasping. He was in a small clearing. A sun filled glade where a natural spring had formed a deep pool. He swam to the edge and climbed out and sat on a rock. The churning water had washed the mud off. He felt cool and clean and lucky to be alive.

Robin lay back on the rock exhausted.

I'll just close my eyes for a moment, he thought to himself. Just for a moment.

He felt a shadow loom over him. Opening his eyes, Robin saw a flash of bright steel and rolled aside only seconds before the blade of a woodsman's axe struck sparks off the rock where his head had been.

A giant of a man fully eight feet tall raised the axe over his head for another blow.

The giant roared, No one but the maiden is allowed to bathe in the most holy water!

The prince scrambled away saying, Good sir! I did not know!

But the giant followed him. Still swinging the heavy axe.

Robin crouched behind a tree. The giant swung his axe. It bit deep into the wood. So deep the tree began to fall. Cut clean through. It landed with a loud crash of snapping branches. Almost crushing the prince. He dodged and ducked and tried to stay well clear of the giant and his axe. But then he tripped on a tree root and one of the giant's enormous boots pressed down on his shoulders, and pinned him to the ground.

The giant raised the axe again...

Stop!

Robin looked up and saw a pretty girl no older than he was.

Your pledge is to guard me woodsman, she said. Not to murder children!

The giant bowed and said, My Lady. The axe dropped harmlessly at his side.

Back on his feet, Robin dusted himself off and bowed like only a prince can. He thought the maiden was the most beautiful vision he had ever seen. Her long flaxen hair was woven with wildflowers. She wore a chain of tiny white daisies on her slender wrist and twists of green ivy tied around her ankles. Her skin was pale and smooth, and as perfect as the finest porcelain from far Qin Xa. A land the prince had only heard of in the wizard's tales. Her lips were a rosebud. Her blue eyes sparkled like starlight.

For sooth, he said. Tell me, blithe spirit, are you real or faerie?

The maiden smiled. I am as real as you are, she said.

There was the clip clop of hooves and Butternut trotted into the glade.

He must have taken the other path, thought Robin. So the path on the right really had been the right path!

It seems your pony has more sense than you, the maiden teased him.

Robin heard laughter behind him, and the woodsman draped a lambswool fleece over his shoulders saying, Forgive me young master.

It might have been the cold water of the spring, or relief at keeping his head, but Robin realized he was trembling, and pulled the fleece tighter around him.

Do you have clothes? The maiden asked. Where are they?

I left them on the trail, said Robin.

The maiden asked the woodsman to go and find the prince's clothes and to bring them back. The woodsman bowed again and left the glade with his axe over his shoulder by the same path Butternut had followed.

Robin's tummy rumbled. The maiden laughed. They feasted on sweet chestnuts and wild honey. They gathered apples and picked blackberries. Washing the sticky juice off their chins with cold water they drank from the other's cupped hands.

Robin chased the maiden through the clearing. She seemed to float from blossom to blossom like an elusive butterfly. He caught her finally, and they rolled and tussled playfully in a field of flowering clover. She lay beneath him breathless. The prince became all too aware of their nakedness. Something that had never troubled him before, now made him blush bright scarlet.

The maiden pressed her body to his.

Would you joust with me sir knight? She teased. Your lance has found my shield.

As surely as love's arrow has found my heart, said Robin.

The giant woodsman returned a short time later and found them lying together on the lambswool fleece. The maiden on her stomach. The prince on his back with his head resting on the maiden's bottom. The sweat of his exertions cooling on his brow.

Faith, thought Robin. What bliss it was to lay with his head on such pillows.

They slept. The shadows grew longer. It was almost sunset when Robin awoke. He sat up with a jolt and looked for his clothes. He dressed quickly.

I must hurry, he said. My father will be wondering where I am!

Fret not, said the maiden. The greybeard knows where you are. He watches

us even now.

The wizard? Robin asked. But - How do you know?

She held a finger to his lips. Hush sweet Robin, she said. And she silenced any more questions with a chaste kiss.

Robin looked around for his father's friend the wizard, but could not see him anywhere. There was the ruffling of feathers and an owl peered at them from its high perch in a pine tree. A sly fox poked its whiskered nose out from under a nearby bush.

Ahhh, thought Robin. He should have guessed the wizard would have friends in the forest.

The maiden began to sing...

Oh noble steed

Of golden hoof

And silver mane

Old Gods pass

And new are born

Long the furrows ploughed

In the years of men

Yet none wear a crown

More wondrous than a horn

I need you now

As I needed you then

Will you bow to bridle

And serve again?

Robin watched wide eyed with amazement as sturdy little Butternut the pony grew taller on long powerful legs, and his shaggy grey coat paled to a smooth shining white. Then a spiral of golden horn appeared on his forehead. He suffered no cruel bit between his teeth, but wore a bridle of jasmine in full flower, and it filled the glade with its perfume.

Faith, said Robin. But never have I ridden so magical a creature!

The woodsman laughed. Robin blushed.

He'd meant the unicorn.

Of course he had.

Come again dear Robin, said the maiden.

You will always be welcome, said the woodsman.

I will, Robin promised.

No sooner had he climbed on the unicorn's back than they were galloping away from the glade. He only had time to wave a quick goodbye.

Will you not come with me? He begged her.

I cannot leave the glade, said the maiden sadly.

I do not know your name.

Call me Annaed!

He reached the castle drawbridge in the blink of an eye. There was a flash of bright white light and Robin was suddenly bouncing up and down on his faithful little pony Butternut again.

He saw his father pacing back and forth outside the tower gate. The wizard stood nearby smiling calmly. The wizard only nodded as the prince approached. But his father the king threw his arms around Robin and hugged him so tightly he lifted Robin clear off his pony. His father swung him around in his arms. So happy was he to have his son returned to him.

Certe, thought Prince Robin. He would go back to the glade again, and again, for as many days as there were stars in the sky - But it was good to be home!

The wizard's staff struck the flagstoned floor of the Great Hall.

THE KING IS DEAD. LONG LIVE THE KING!

Prince Robin could feel his own blood flowing before he felt the cold sting of the pointed blade pressed against his throat.

Son of a worm infested dog! Hissed a voice in the darkness. Am I not enough for you?

Now. Now. Soothed Robin. There's no need for...

Silence! How dare you speak to me as if you were my equal. I am a QUEEN!

Yes, your ahhh... Majesty. But aren't you forgetting something?

Such as?

Your uncle. The Maharajah.

The Princess Saavi arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. That old fool?

That old fool, said Robin, was wise enough to send you away before you could smother him in his sleep. Or prick him with your needle.

You! You are no better than a sun baked pile of maggot infested camel dung!

Sticks and stones, laughed Robin. Realizing his mistake when the stiletto's tip dug deeper.

Robin had grown from a child to a young man. As tall as any man, and with a man's strength, and he caught the Maharanee's wrist and pushed her hand holding the dagger away easily.

What did you mean by am I not enough? He asked her.

I saw the way you looked at my lady-in-waiting.

I'm sure she's a wonderful person, said Robin, but the scrubber of your royal chamber pot has a face that could strip varnish.

Anything else he might have said was cut off abruptly by a kiss.

But not just any kiss. As kisses go, this one was a tropical monsoon.

Aldhyrwoode the wizard repeated his message for Robin a third time, and then had Orpheiu say it back to him, to be sure the raven remembered it correctly, word for word.

You are needed here, quoth the raven. Your father lies in state. The crown has no king. Ride like the wind. Or all might yet be lost!

While he had a vague idea where to find Prince Robin, Aldhyrwoode couldn't be more precise than the city fortress of Jal Naghrahar. Far to the East.

Just look for trouble, he told Orpheiu. If I know Robin, he won't be far away.

The duke's army was camped less than a day's march from the kingdom's southern border.

We ride the minute I hear from Bjern Bearskinner, Don Sebastian told his generals.

The jarl of the northern raiders had already sailed with several

hundreds of longships. He would burn them where they lay beached. Let the runes fall where they may. There would be no retreat.

That Alejandro and his father had argued was no secret. Prince Robin was Alejandro's friend. He thought they should wait for Robin to return.

Anything other than that would be dishonourable.

And while we pretend to mourn? The duke had asked his son. What? Others will claim the crown for their own! That's what! We cannot wait!

The kingdom is not yours, Alejandro had told his father, and nor will the crown ever be!

And who is going to stop me? The wizard?

No, said Alejandro. I will.

By yourself?

If I must.

You would see me in my grave? Your own flesh and blood?

I would see my friend succeed to that which is rightfully his!

I do not doubt, said Don Sebastian softly, that you mean what you say. But I warn you... This old lion still has his claws!

The captain of the castle guard didn't command legions. But the men in his service were well trained and well armed, and they had sworn an oath to defend the realm and protect its people. Loyal to the old king, they loved Prince Robin.

We will fight to the last of us, the captain told Aldhyrwoode. There will be no surrender.

Such a noble sacrifice might not be needed, said the wizard. My agent at the court of Don Sebastian tells me the Marshall of Navarre is on our side.

The blood red knight? But that is excellent news!

The duke would snatch the crown in a heartbeat, if he wanted it for himself, said Aldhyrwoode. But a throne of cold hard rock is no seat for arthritic bones. And no matter how pretty the bow, an unwanted gift might just as well be an empty box.

The duke wants the kingdom for his own son? Asked the captain.

He does. Aldhyrwoode nodded. If Alejandro would accept it. Which he will not.

And the raiders from the north?

Are still at sea. And the ocean can be... Unpredictable.

So we pray for a storm?

A prayer, said Aldhrywoode, is a waste of breath. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

Bjern Bearskinner had skinned more than his fair share of bears, but that wasn't how he'd earned his name. The bear was Bjern's totem animal. He always wore the grizzled pelt of an enormous brown bear into battle. He bore no shield, and carried no sword nor axe nor spear. He could break a man in half with his bare hands. Or tear one from limb to limb as easily as a monk might tear a sheet of parchment. Bjern was a berserker.

He was also gut wrenchingly sea-sick.

Bring me more ale! He roared. And row faster! Blow in the bloody sail if you have to, but get this floating turd onto something more solid than...

More solid than what he didn't say.

He was too busy puking into Harald the Hard-arse's helmet.

Do not look now, said the Princess Saavi, but there is an ugly bird on the window ledge.

It's not your lady-in-waiting is it? Asked Robin. Who then did exactly what he was NOT supposed to do, and looked. Orphieu!

You know it?

Certe, said Robin. I know him well.

What news? He asked the raven.

When the bird had delivered its message, Robin sat on the floor of the Maharanee's private quarters and wept unashamedly. Firstly for his father. Secondly because he would have to leave the princess, whom he loved. And thirdly because he couldn't see how he was possibly going to return to the kingdom, his kingdom now, in time to save it.

Do not fret so, said Princess Saavi. There is a way. The rug under the bed, can you drag it out? I will summon the guards to help you.

The bed was a huge monstrosity carved from teak, and weighed nearly as much as an elephant, but huffing and puffing, Robin and a dozen of the palace guards were finally able to lift it just enough for two more guards to haul the dusty old carpet out from underneath it. As soon as the rug was free, it rose into the air, and floated all by itself!

Being as familiar with magic as he was, Robin wasn't surprised, or at least not as surprised as the guards were. And seeing that the carpet was large enough to carry two comfortably, he swept the princess up in his arms and spun around the room, his mouth planted passionately on her equally fervent lips.

Faith! He exclaimed, when he could speak again. I've met giants and nymphs and trolls and unicorns, but I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would meet a girl with a flying rug!

Thunder and lightning. Howling gales. Waves taller than a ship's mast.

Bearskinner and his fleet of piratical pillagers are driven further and further south. None are lost or sunk, that's not a part of the wizard Aldhyrwoode's plan. He needs them to still be a threat when they finally land, somewhere, though the raiders don't know it, on the western shores of Don Sebastian's dukedom.

The rider didn't bother to dismount, but charged straight through the open flaps of Don Sebastian's campaign tent.

My Lord! He cried. We are invaded!

My Lord! Roger was yelling, when he skidded into Aldhyrwoode's workshop.

They're here!

Who's here?

Robin!

Robin's here? Already? But...

What would have taken Robin and the Princess Saavi weeks by ship, or even months on horseback, was shortened to only a day and a night of flying first class on the magic carpet.

There's a girl with him, said Roger. And you should see her rug!

Eh? What? I don't... Girl's rugs aren't... Robin's here?

Yes! Roger laughed. Come on!

For an old man, Aldhyrwoode had no trouble keeping with the young knight, and even shouldered past him as they ran up the turret's stairwell to the courtyard, where a company of the Castle Guard were struggling to keep the carpet grounded.

My Prince! My Prince! The wizard wept tears of joy. Throwing his arms around Robin, and even dancing a little jig. You are come! Oh, my boy! My dear sweet boy!

Robin shared his friend and mentor's happiness. As pleased to see Aldhyrwoode as the wizard was to have his Prince home.

My father, said Robin. Where is he?

Oh! Yes! You must... He is... Forgive me, said Aldhyrwoode, for an old fool... Of course you... And here am I... But come... And you... So beautiful you are... We must... But later...

In the captain's quarters, a small group of squires listened, all ears, to the story of how the late king had fought, and won for himself, every rock and tree and river and valley from the towering snow-capped mountains to the endless forests.

In those days, the lands of Don Rafael, the present duke's older brother, had stretched as far as the horizon in every direction. In the third year of the great famine, a horde of savage tribesmen rode out of the plains on their unshod ponies. They were like a plague, destroying everything in their path. Leaving nothing behind them but the dead. The frontier outposts were the first to fall, one after the other.

Rafael's brother, Sebastian, was there too. Brawling with the best of them. Up to his knees in the mud and the blood and the shit. But a blow on the helm knocked him out cold.

Of all the Don's men, none were braver, or fought more valiantly, than Rafael's young squire. And just as a heathen spear was set to spill the duke's guts...

Who was there to save his life?

The boy who would be king! The squires all shouted as one.

The tribesmen were first rate fighters. But they had no discipline. No order. And the tide of battle soon turned in the duke's favour. They were wiped out, down to the very last of them. No more than a stripling.

A child. But no sword or lance could touch him.

There was some kind of force, some sorcery, protecting him. That no blade could breach.

We could be here all day, Roland D'Arturian called to him, and every day until world's end. But I have better things to do. Will you share a skin of wine with me?

I will die of thirst before I surrender!

A truce, then! Called Roland. There's no disgrace in that, surely!

On your honour?

On my word. One friend to another.

We are not friends!

Not yet. But we could be. What say you?

Don Rafael, being relieved to still have his innards, bade his squire kneel and knighted him right there on the spot.

Arise, Sir. A servant no more, but a king in your own right!

And who did D'Arturian choose to help him rule his new kingdom?

None other than the feral boy.

The last of his tribe.

The necromancer's child - Al Den Whyr.

King Roland was laid out on a tall block of black marble. He'd been dressed in a simple blue tunic with a belt of gold, and his silver hair and beard had been brushed. He wore no jewellery other than a plain band of bronze on one wrist. As forthright and unpretentious in death as he had been in life.

Holding his father's hand, Robin kissed him on the unwrinkled brow.

There were no words to express how he felt.

I wish you could have met him, he said to Princess Saavi. You would have liked him. And he you.

He would have loved you, said Aldhyrwoode.

They hadn't even been formally introduced yet, but the wizard could clearly see for himself how much Robin thought of Saavi. And if Robin loved her, that was enough.

Robin looked at Roger and said, Bring him his crown. We will bury him with it.

No king should be without a crown. Or a crown without a king.

But, my Lord. You are king. How are we to... ?

The kingdom is all the crown I need, said Robin, and the people more precious than any metal or gems.