A Crown of Thorns
Prince Rhowyn woke in Alejandro's bed. He stretched and yawned. The bedclothes were tossed back and the sheet cool. Alejandro stood naked at a window, pissing noisily into a chamber pot.
Today is my name day, said Rhowyn. Do you have something for me?
Alejandro returned to the bed and leaned in to kiss Rhowyn full on the lips.
Is that all? Asked Rhowyn.
What more could a spoiled brat like you possibly want?
It was the second of Prince Rhowyn's name day feasts. A banquet in the Great Hall. The first had been that day, a riverside picnic for every child from the town and its surrounds. The duke did not attend. Nor was he there at the banquet, sending a squire with Rhowyn's gift, a pricked-eared, wild-eyed prancing palomino named Skull-crusher.
Horses were the duke's passion, and the coursers and chargers of Navarre were the finest to be found anywhere.
He is young, your Highness. The squire said to Rhowyn. And headstrong.
His Grace wishes you both to grow and learn together.
Please thank his Grace for his most excellent gift.
The squire bowed before King Robin and Queen Saavi. Your Majesties. His Grace apologizes for his absence, and begs your forgiveness.
His Grace is a sour old grump, Saavi whispered to Robin.
The Great Hall was filled with light, and the rafters rang with music and merriment. Lords and ladies from all across Rhealmyrr had come bearing gifts for the young prince. They ate too much. Drank too much.And had a good time doing so.
Bjern and Harald were there. So, too, was Alejandro, seated to Queen Saavi's left at the high table. King Robin sat on her right. Then Aldhyrwoode. Then Rhowyn. Then Saaal Soool, who'd been allowed to attend as Rhowyn's guest.
I do not have a gift for you, young Saaal, I am sorry. But perhaps I can sing for you?
If it's a song you want, roared Harald drunkenly, I know one about a whore with a wooden leg!
The Great Hall fell silent as Saaal Soool made his way down from the dais to stand before Prince Rhowyn. In a strong, if rasping, voice he sang...
When the stars were young
There were Skraaal
When the world was new
There were Skraaal
Before sky fall were we
Before dragon doom were we
Before the first grass were we
Before the first flower were we
No tree yet grew in The Garden
No harvest yet ripened there
No men yet spilled their seed
No women yet bore their fruit
After the last leaf dies will we be
After the last child weeps will we be
After the last mountain is dust will we be
After the last gods are slain will we be
When the world turns no more
There are Skraaal
When the sun and moon fade
There are Skraaal
Well? Demanded Don Sebastian.
The council had gathered again in the Great Hall.
King Robin and the duke stood glaring at each other across the table.
You ask too much, said King Robin.
I'm giving you Navarre!
In exchange for our son, said the queen.
You have mine, Don Sebastian countered.
The wizard Aldhyrwoode cleared his throat to say something.
One look at Queen Saavi's face was enough to change his mind.
I won't dishonour Alejandro by asking him to recant his vow to serve you, said the duke. I have ten more years, at best, and Navarre needs an heir. One the noble families will accept.
And Rhowyn is that heir?
Don Sebastian nodded. After he marries the youngest daughter of the Montoya, yes. I will adopt him as my grandson.
And Alejandro? Asked King Robin.
Must be seen to support Rhowyn's claim. But... If my son should ever marry and have a child, then the dukedom will be that child's to inherit.
After Rhowyn?
Yes.
There was a long silence.
Don Sebastian grew tired of waiting. It's not as if you'll never see him again. In return I will cede our southern frontier to the Skraaal. The land there is very much like their own.
And strengthen your borders by several thousands, said Harald. You're smarter than you look.
I wish I could say the same for you.
Aldhyrwoode cleared his throat again.
This time Queen Saavi nodded. Go on. You've had a face like a constipated goat for the last... I don't know how long! Just say it.
It's Rhowyn's future we're talking about. I was only going to suggest we ask him what he thinks.
All heads turned and looked at the twelve year old prince.
It's not, though, is it? Said Rhowyn. I have my friends and my family. I don't need a crown or a throne to make me happy. What's important... What really matters... Is helping Saaal Soool and his people. And not just the Skraaal, but the people of Navarre. I know what others think of his Grace, I've heard what they say about him. Don Sebastian does what he truly believes is best for those who depend on him. He isn't always right. But he cares. Really cares. Just like you, Father. Or you, Uncle Bjern Did you know that the cook tastes everything he prepares before it leaves the kitchens? Or that the miller grinds his flour twice? Or that Korm the stable boy mixes honey through the oats he feeds the horses? Just because they like it? A crown without compassion is an empty promise.
Your Grace, said Rhowyn, kneeling at his feet and taking both of Don Sebastian's hands in his. I would be proud to call you Grandfather. And if I were the duke, I would try to be the very best lord I could be. Rich or poor, noble or low born, merchant or blacksmith or scullery maid, I would care for each of them equally. But do not think me soft! He said, rising to his feet and looking at each face in the room in turn. I would punish the wicked. And hammer those who mean to harm. I would be strong, yet forgiving. Righteous, yet fair. Brave, yet prudent.
A man should be all of these. And more. They are the qualities that raise us up. The giants on whose shoulders we stand. Without them there is no hope of ever being all that we could be... All we might be. A good man. A wise man. That man is a prince among men.