The Return to High Realm (Book III)
Three chapter preview of Book III of the High Realm Trilogy. A family-friendly trilogy of books for both adults and child readers.
An audio reading of the first three chapters of this book can be enjoyed here.
The book can be purchased on Amazon stores here.
Chapter One
LANDING IN HIGH REALM
The skysailer flew over the mountains leaving Grēndæl and coming over the other side into the land of High Realm.
The geography did not change much, the land still consisted of wooded hills and there were only a few villages scattered here and there. However, one big difference was the absence of mountains in the far distance. No matter where one flew in Grēndæl, it was possible to see a range of mountains in both the north and the south stretching as far as the eye could see from east to west. But High Realm was not a dale or valley; High Realm was a land of sloping hills, fields and forests which sat alongside many gentle rivers.
Sam, Stella, Morgana and Alfwuld were on the deck as the skysailer flew over Grēndæl, a Protectorate of the Kingdom of Landelaks and home, as well, to the small independent kingdom of Dælford. They watched as they flew over the mountains into the kingdom of High Realm ruled by King Fredwitt of Benedictus. No one said anything during these moments, no words needed to be said, it was almost dreamlike the way it had happened.
After weeks of being away, they were now home.
Sam tried to speak when they had crossed the threshold but he couldn’t think of any words appropriate for the moment.
“High Realm! My great kingdom! My beloved land! How I have missed you!” Alfwuld exclaimed his voice high with joy.
“Where is Home Wood from here?” Stella asked, she was referring to Shadow Forest, one of the big forests on the western border of High Realm. It was called Shadow Forest by the people in High Realm on account of the shadow wisps who lived there.
“Hmm…” Alfwuld said, his eyes assessing the geography, ‘I am not sure where we are precisely. My best guess would be that Shadow Forest is a hundred miles west of here.’
“Oh…” Stella replied disappointed, “…can we turn the sailer and head that way? I want to see my mum and dad!”
“We could,” said Morgana, “I designed the propeller so we could turn it. However, I don’t advise changing our course until we know where we are.”
“That is a point,” said Sam, “we should wait until we recognize where we are, then we can make a decision as to where to go.”
“I vote we go to Cyningham as soon as we know where we are in the kingdom,” Alfwuld said. “We need to get to the Royal City immediately! I need to meet with my father the king, get this curse broken, kill the witch responsible, feast, celebrate and make merry and then you, Stella and Morgana can go back to your homes laden with gifts and treasures.”
“But I don’t want gifts or treasures!” Stella exclaimed. “I just want to go home!”
“I appreciate that you want to give us gifts and a feast,” Sam said, “but I would like to see my parents and neighbours first.”
Alfwuld turned to them frustrated.
“I understand how you must feel,” he said, “but it is vital that I return to Cyningham as soon as possible. Not only is my father likely heart-broken due to my absence but my disappearance will have almost certainly spread discord through all the ranks. Who knows what state the kingdom is in? It is imperative I return forthwith so as to ease any possible tensions. What’s more, I have been a penguin for months now, I long for my real self!”
Sam wanted to argue with the crown prince cursed to be a penguin but he found Alfwuld’s points compelling. Although Alfwuld had not gone into any detail about what kind of discord might have spread through the kingdom, he could imagine how the disappearance of the crown prince might affect High Realm.
“I see your argument,” Sam said, “but if we pass Shadow Forest or Tolheath on the way, we’re stopping the skysailer.”
Alfwuld looked at him and then nodded.
“That is only fair. I cannot argue.”
“What about you, Morgana?” Stella asked suddenly, “where is your home? Do you want us to stop if we see it?”
Morgana turned to Stella; her eyes were on her friend but they were also adrift in thought and memory.
“I don’t want to go home.”
“What?!” Sam, Stella and Alfwuld responded together.
“How can you say that?” Stella asked shocked.
“Because… where Herbert and I lived was not a real home,’ Morgana said, “it was an academy for talented orphans and until I found Herbert, I didn’t have any friends. I only had colleagues.”
Her eyes watered.
“I don’t want to go back,” she said, “I want to stay here with you. I don’t want to leave.”
Stella floated towards Morgana and hugged her.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “you can live with me and my family in the forest. I’m sure mum and dad would love to have you.”
“Live in the forest?” Sam said, incredulous. “Don’t be silly Stella! She’ll need a home with a human family.”
“Do not worry,” said Alfwuld, “once I meet my father and get this curse broken, I shall find you a home and a family. Also, I do not believe this will be farewell. I think we shall enjoy many meetings in future.”
Morgana smiled and wiped a tear from her eye.
They all knew what Alfwuld had said was true. After going through so much together, escaping a labyrinth, overthrowing a tyrant, restoring a kingdom, fighting cyclopes and defeating an evil wizard, it would not be possible to say a final goodbye and part ways.
The bond which had developed between them was lifelong.
As Herbert continued to power the skysailer through the skies above High Realm and as the hours drifted by, Sam slowly started to recognize the land more and more.
The fields were becoming fewer in number and the small woods were also spreading open to reveal areas of colourful heathland. Shrubs and heath were springing up in the areas where there was neither wood, field, farm nor village. The amount of heathland grew gradually until Sam saw his village: Tolheath. A small, homely village surrounded by farmland except on the western side; here Heath Wood grew and, from the skysailer, Sam could see the treeless plains of heath which were nestled and hidden inside the forest.
Sam would have recognized his home from anywhere.
“Tolheath!” He shouted. “My home!”
Everyone dropped what they were doing and came to the front of the skysailer and looked to where Sam was pointing.
“We’re maybe a mile away!” Sam yelled excited.
“Tolheath. Toll-by-heath-wood,” said Alfwuld, thinking, “I now know where we are! This village is right next to a former toll point and it has a road which goes to Cyningham. We’re in Applewatershire and are only a few days ride away from the borders of Cyninghamshire.”
“Morgana, how do we let down the sailer?” Sam asked hurriedly.
“We’d have to deflate some gas from the airbag,” Morgana said.
“Can’t the propeller take us to the ground?” Alfwuld asked.
“In theory yes,” Morgana replied, “but Herbert would have to push the propeller to its limits in order to generate a downward force greater than the upward lifting force from the gas in the airbag. It would be safer and more convenient to release some gas.”
“To land, I can deflate the airbag,” said the captain colossus which was standing next to the helm.
“Quick deflate the airbag!” Sam ordered, watching as his village drew closer, “and tell Herbert to stop the propeller. We might fly over Tolheath!”
Of course, it didn’t really matter whether they deflated the skysailer before it reached Tolheath or just after it had passed the village, but Sam wanted to land now. For the whole of the journey, the thing which had kept him going through every struggle was the picture, the image and the memory of home. Every building, every house, every field, every face and every friend was the reason and desire to return to Tolheath.
“Yes master,” the captain colossus replied. It went to the stout mast which reached the bottom of the airbag where the air-release mechanism was located. The colossus climbed to the top of the mast and began to release the gas.
Suddenly, the skysailer began to nosedive towards the heathland below. Everyone fell to the deck and grabbed the nearest fixed object.
“You’re releasing the gas too fast!” Morgana shouted at the colossus.
“Mechanism malfunctioned,” the captain colossus replied in an emotionless voice, “for crash landing, prepare.”
Fortunately, the skysailer was not descending at lethal speed but it was dangerously fast and everyone had braced themselves for impact. The skysailer slammed into the earth bow first and ploughed into the soil, tearing up plants and shrubs. The front of the skysailer dug into the earth before the rest of the bow began to splinter and break apart which allowed the rest of the galleon to skid across the heath carried by the momentum. Sam and Morgana managed to hold onto the mast along with the captain colossus and so did not roll across the deck, unlike poor Alfwuld who rolled like a sausage down a hill. Fortunately, Stella floated after him and, using every ounce of her strength, picked him up off the deck.
The skysailer continued to skid and break itself on the heath for another few seconds before it lost momentum. The stop was abrupt and nearly made Sam lose his grip on the mast and hit the deck like Alfwuld.
Once the skysailer had stopped moving, Morgana ran below deck.
“Herbert! Are you alright?” she called.
Sam meanwhile walked to the front of what remained of the bow and looked ahead. The road to Tolheath was only a hundred yards away.
“Is he okay?” Stella shouted to Morgana below the deck.
Morgana came back onto the deck.
“He’s fine,” she said in her normal soft voice.
Sam jumped off the skysailer and onto the ground. He was finally back on High Realm’s soil; he felt new energy surge from the ground into his legs and he ran to the path which led to Tolheath.
Sam didn’t wait for his friends. The closer he ran to the fields, the houses and the farmsteads, the more energized he became. As Sam entered Tolheath, he yelled: “Mum! Dad!”
He ran past the houses of friends, neighbours and extended relatives, past the library where his journey had begun and made a beeline to the farmhouse at the end of Tolheath village. It was his house, the house of his parents. Its red stone walls, white windows, unpainted door and thatched roof could have belonged to any of the houses in Tolheath or any other village in this part of High Realm but Sam knew the differences; they were of his home.
Sam ran to the open door and charged into the house.
“Mum! Dad! I’m home!” he shouted.
His eyes looked upon the living space of his home for the first time in weeks…and he felt like a cold dagger had been plunged into his heart.
His house wasn’t as he had left it. The room had been destroyed; the tables and chairs were broken, plates and cutlery lay shattered, the carpet had been torn up and every desk and drawer had been ransacked. Everything in the room which had value, such as the silver mirror which had always rested above the fireplace, had been stolen. The house was empty and only wafts of dust drifted through the once alive and warm home…
…it had been like this for days.
Sam collapsed to his knees and broke down in tears.
Chapter Two
THE RISE OF THE PRINCE REGENT
Sam knew he needed to get up. He needed to search the house, discover what had happened to his home and find his parents. But he couldn’t stop weeping.
His home, a collection of memories and experiences, a place of rest and comfort had been violated and destroyed. The pain and sadness crushed him and the realization that something awful had befallen his mother and father sapped his previous strength.
“Sam! Sam! Sam!”
It was Stella, Morgana and Alfwuld.
Despite everything, Sam wiped his eyes and stood up, his legs shaking, and walked trembling out of the door. Stella, Morgana, Herbert and Alfwuld were walking through the middle of the village, they were looking around in confusion and worry. Sam walked towards them, his feet like lead, his body like a wreck and his head light.
His friends upon seeing his distress, ran over to him and they met outside the red stone library which was in the middle of the village.
“What’s happened?” Stella asked. “Why is no one here?”
“They’ve been taken,” Sam could barely speak and was choking on all his words, “my house… it’s been robbed and my parents are gone.”
Stella floated up to Sam and hugged him gently, Alfwuld walked closer and even Herbert bowed his head in solidarity, but Morgana walked over to a nearby house and looked through a smashed window.
“All the houses have been robbed and abandoned,” she said, returning.
“Something is not right indeed,” Alfwuld said, his sharp eyes gazing around Tolheath, “but I cannot understand it. The northern border is defended by the Great Hedge and Dyke and the village is not a pile of ash so it cannot be barbarians anyway. We cannot be at war with Landelaks and its protectorates because such news would have reached our ears swiftly and they do not take slaves. What has…?”
Alfwuld turned his head suddenly, everyone followed his gaze to Tolheath library; a face was watching them from a ground floor window. The face vanished but not quickly enough.
Sam drew Legsbane from its scabbard and marched to the library door. He did not recognize the face, he’d only seen it for a second but he was not taking any chances. He did not know where he was anymore, without his relatives, his friends and neighbours Tolheath was not home, it was just a skeleton of buildings, and he could imagine evil was hiding in every place where he had once found love and goodness.
The door of the library was damaged and was barely attached to its hinges, someone had broken in. Sam kicked it and the door finally gave up and collapsed onto the bare floor. A dull thud echoed throughout the library, there was a panicked cry and some desperate scuffling sounds from inside the building and Sam strode forwards, ready for action.
“Show yourself!” he barked.
He entered the main room and saw that the library had not been spared from the looting. All the shelves were empty, not a page was in sight, and hiding behind one of these naked shelves was a figure.
“I see you. You cannot hide back there! Come out!” Sam shouted.
Sam’s voice was strong and powerful and he surprised himself with the authority and confidence he now commanded with his tongue. It occurred to him that the journey home had changed him and that his friends and family now needed this stronger version of himself.
The young woman behind the shelf, fell to her knees and then crawled into the open. Sam recognized her immediately, the brown mousy hair arranged into a plaited ponytail, the round spectacles and the slim, willowy figure. It was Edith the librarian and it felt like an age had passed since he’d last seen her.
Edith did not recognize Sam, in fact, she wouldn’t even look at him. She was on her hands and knees, tears falling from her face.
“Oh please!” she wept. “I beg you! Please, please don’t take me away! I didn’t do anything, I swear! I was in here the whole time!”
As Sam eyed her more closely, he could see she was not well. Her hair was unclean and untidy, her movements were slow and although she had always been skinny, she seemed bony.
Sam sheathed Legsbane and rushed over to her, his heart breaking at the sorry sight of his neighbour.
“Edith! Edith!” he cried.
He fell to his knees and put both hands on her shoulders to reassure her.
“It’s me,” he said, “it’s me, Sam!”
Edith raised her head slowly and looked into Sam’s face, her eyes wracked with worry and hurt. The tears in her eyes changed from sadness to joy and she wrapped her arms around him and wept.
“Sam!” she cried. “Thank the World Maker it is you! I thought you were one of the high earl’s men. But how are you here… who are these…?” she waved a hand at Stella, Morgana and Alfwuld who’d now entered the building, “I saw you disappear… we contacted the former royal wizard but he said he couldn’t do anything…”
“Calm down!” Sam urged. “I’ll tell you everything but I need to know what happened here. Where is everyone? Who is this high earl? Did he do this?”
“They… they…”
Edith’s eyes started to roll into the back of her head then she shook herself.
“I’m sorry,” she said weakly, “I haven’t drunk or eaten for days. I’ve been hiding in here. I dared not leave.”
“We’ve got provisions on the skysailer,” Alfwuld said to Sam. “We should take her back.”
“Herbert can carry her, she won’t need to walk,” Morgana added.
Edith’s eyes began to roll again.
“Why… why is the funny bird talking?”
She then fainted.
“I need this curse ended as soon as possible,” Alfwuld muttered, “I hate that kind of reaction.”
“At least they don’t keep calling you a wraith or a spook!” Stella said.
Sam picked up the malnourished Edith, brought her outside and presented her to Herbert.
“Herbert could you please carry her? We need to take her back to the galleon.”
Herbert nodded. He gently picked Edith up in his arms and placed her on the armchair atop his platform. As Sam started in the direction of the skysailer, he saw a rider in the distance coming over the northernmost hill. He was riding hot and fast down the road and into the other side of Tolheath.
Sam gestured for everyone to stop.
“Someone’s coming,” he said resting his hand upon his sword, “maybe he knows what’s happening around here.”
So the five waited for the rider to gallop towards them.
The rider was soon in the village proper and rode towards them as expected. Despite the road being mostly paved with stone, the black stallion left clouds of dust in its wake. The dust clouds obscured the rider, but he was clearly a man of great stature. He stopped his horse twenty yards from the five and looked down on them.
As the dust settled, Sam could make out his features. The man was tall, taller than six feet, he had broad shoulders, a strong body, and a hard, clean-shaven face. He was a warrior. A mighty sword hung from his belt and he was dressed in a simple outfit; a green wool shirt and rough leather vest with matching trousers tucked into long black leather riding boots.
The rider removed a lock of coal-black hair from his wolf-grey eyes and looked upon the five and his attention fell upon Sam and this is when they both recognized each other.
“Sam?”
“Sir Wulf!”
Sir Wulf Ironboar was Tolheath’s knight. He lived on a humble estate only a mile from the village next to the largest farm in the whole of Tolheath which was owned by Peter Hoggin. Wulf was not exactly a friend but he was well respected by everyone in Tolheath as a fair if not gruff lower gentleman.
Wulf dismounted his horse Galahad and walked towards Sam.
“It is you,” he said, his voice had not changed since Sam left, it was dark, deep and crusty, “but two swords hang by your side and you… stand differently. You’ve been gone for weeks. Where have you been?”
“Later,” Sam said, “what’s happened here?”
Wulf looked around the village.
“Dark things,” he said, “a lot has changed in High Realm since you were gone. I rode here as quickly as I could when I heard the news today. I was seeing to... matters far from here under the orders of my lord.”
“Edith is here,” said Sam, “she knows what happened but we need to take her to our skysailer. She hasn’t drunk or eaten for days.”
Wulf looked at Herbert and saw Edith passed out in the armchair.
“Glad to see someone escaped,” Wulf said, “Sam, when did you come to own a skysailer and a colossus?”
“Sam doesn’t own Herbert,” Morgana said firmly, “no one owns him. He is his own person.”
Herbert nodded. Wulf looked slowly from Morgana to Herbert then back to Morgana again.
“Whatever,” he grunted. “Take me to the skysailer. Who is the girl and wisp?”
“Finally!” Stella exclaimed happily, “someone who doesn’t immediately think I’m a wraith! Oh, I’m Stella by the way.”
“I am called Morgana.”
“I’ll… share my identity later,” Alfwuld said, “there are things I need to learn first.”
Wulf, whose face had been grim, looked at the penguin with wide eyes.
“It speaks?!” he exclaimed.
“I’ll explain later,” said Sam, “we need to get Edith food and water.”
Sam led the others to the skysailer and Wulf walked beside him, leading Galahad by the mouth and giving the horse a break from riding. They soon reached the wrecked galleon and were entering its lowest deck via a massive opening in the hull which had been caused by the crash. The captain colossus was outside on guard with its great sword.
“Masters,” it said, “for a port, should I look?”
“No need yet,” said Alfwuld, “just stay on guard and inform us if you see anyone.”
The captain colossus nodded and maintained its stance.
Planks of wood, debris, shattered glass and alchemy compounds and equipment were scattered everywhere on the ground inside so everyone decided to sit outside the skysailer once they had gathered what they needed.
Herbert handed Edith to Wulf who carried her to what remained of a shattered crate and sat her down. Sam and Stella rummaged through the scattered food supplies and brought thick bread, goats’ cheese, ham and water to the delirious Edith. All the food on the skysailer was a gift from the Dælfordingas and King Hrothgar and it was hearty and wholesome.
Once Edith had drunk several bottles of pure Grēndæl water, she tucked into the bread, cheese and ham with a ravenous energy. She stuffed her face without manners or words, and Wulf had to stop her.
“Steady,” he said putting a big, heavy hand on her shoulder, “eat slowly. You will make yourself sick.”
Edith nodded but she still ate at a fast pace. Since she was eating, everybody decided to grab some food and Morgana placed a teapot inside a port in Herbert’s levitation generator to brew some tea.
No one said anything during the meal but instead ate in a suspenseful silence. The only topic they were interested in was what had happened to the people of Tolheath and what had been happening in High Realm.
Finally, Edith, her stomach full and her throat watered after three long days, looked like she was ready to speak.
“Edith,” Sam asked, despite his efforts, he could not keep his voice steady, “I need to know. Where are my parents? What happened to Tolheath?”
“The high earl’s men they took everyone,” Edith said slowly, “I was in the library when they came… reading a new book which had come in.”
“Which high earl?” Wulf asked. “What was his name?”
“It was Robert Greenfield the new high earl of Wheathamptonshire. Five days ago, a herald from Wheathampton who said his lord was Robert Greenfield rode to Peter Hoggin’s farm and told him that the prince regent had ordered the requisition of all his pigs and all his cattle for the feasts in Cyningham. Well Peter, as you know, can be stubborn and he said he’d only give his livestock to Cyningham if he was going to be paid a fair price for them and told the herald that Robert Greenfield was getting too big for his boots as this wasn’t Wheathamptonshire and our lord was Eric Bromley. The herald told him that he would pay for his insolence and rode off. Peter wasn’t worried. He went to The Badger that night and told everyone the story and bought drinks for his entire household as he was in good spirits.”
Edith paused and chugged the cup of tea which Morgana had given her.
“I don’t know what this is but it is very good…”
“Focus.” Wulf said.
Edith shuddered.
“The next day,” she said slowly, “I was reading The Romance of the Milkmaid in the library, when I heard shouting, crying, and horses galloping… just the most horrible commotions. I looked through the library window and I saw… I saw men with clubs, ropes and nets attacking and seizing everyone in the village. Others were running into the houses and grabbing every valuable in sight and placing them in their big wagons and carriages. With these men there were…”
Edith’s face went white and her eyes started gazing back into another terrifying time and place.
“Who were with them?” Sam asked.
Edith swallowed.
“Black knights…They were there to make sure no one fought back.”
A cold silence shrouded the group and a chill went down Sam’s spine.
“Black knights?” he said, his mouth dry. “Are you sure?”
Edith nodded.
“What’s a black knight?” Stella asked.
Sam looked at her. Stella had lived her whole life in Shadow Forest and didn’t know much about High Realm or the surrounding lands, but the fact she didn’t know about black knights surprised him.
“They are former knights or lords who have broken their oaths to the king,” Sir Wulf replied, “if one does this, he is exiled and cursed by the king and every piece of armour he wears and every weapon he holds turns black. Only doing a worthy act will break this curse and only then can the black knight return to High Realm and serve the king again.”
“So… it’s a really bad thing they are here?”
Sam nodded.
“What are black knights doing in High Realm?” Morgana asked, she looked first to Edith and then to Wulf who was standing with his arms crossed.
“The prince regent invited all the black knights to return to High Realm and serve him and his newly appointed high earls,” Wulf said, “he also gave the sack to all the guards at the Royal Castle and hired criminals and northern barbarians to replace them.”
There was a terrible silence as everyone came to grips with the awful news.
“Edith, how did you escape?” Sam asked, finally.
“I saw the men running into the houses and dragging out anyone who stayed inside; I knew I would be next so I dropped the book and looked for a hiding place. There’s a gap in the wall behind the bookshelf at the back of the main room. I moved the bookshelf, snuck behind it and then dragged the shelf back into place. The next minute, I heard men run into the room and start snatching all the books off the shelves.
Then when they left I heard the sounds of men driving animals away. I heard chickens, pigs, cows and horses. They stole the animals from all the farms in Tolheath. I stayed hidden for what seemed like an eternity, I was too scared to come out even when all the noise had stopped. When I finally moved the shelf, it was dark and I was too frightened to leave the library.”
Edith began sniffing again.
“I didn’t know what to do or where to go and I was terrified. So I stayed inside. I tried again and again to leave but I couldn’t muster the courage. I wanted to find you Sir Wulf but I was too scared to leave.”
Her voice was choked with sobs and she began to cry again.
“The one time I could actually do something to help the village and I couldn’t do it! If only I was brave like Mildred in The Romance of the Milkmaid,” she sniffed, “if only I was as strong-willed as Jennifer in Love of the Wildman. If only…”
Here, Edith broke down in tears. Stella went and hugged her while saying: “There, there, there,” over and over again.
Sam and Alfwuld looked to Sir Wulf who had still not taken a seat. His expression was grim.
“Who is the prince regent?” Sam asked. “And what happened while I was away?”
Wulf looked at him.
“I’ll give you the short version. Several weeks before you disappeared, the crown prince - the king’s only son - Alfwuld, went missing. The news was hushed up but it leaked out eventually. After weeks of fruitless searching, King Fredwitt lost all sanity. One day, he went to the courtyard and to the Kingstone and thrust the Claymore of Kings into the rock and went to his room.”
Sam, Morgana and Alfwuld gasped upon hearing this.
The Claymore of Kings, oftentimes referred to as the Kingsblade, Kingsword and the Sword of Kings, was not only a powerful weapon but also a symbol of the king’s authority and right to rule. When it was driven into the Kingstone, a great boulder which lay in the grounds of the Royal Castle, only those who had a claim to the throne could draw it from the stone. A king who plunged the sword back into the stone was signalling his abdication.
“Even now, he refuses to leave his bed. He is lost in his own heartbreak and misery,” Wulf continued, “when the king shut himself in his chambers, terrible things began to happen. No one knew what to do. There was no obvious successor and there were bitter arguments as to who should act as lord protector while the king worked through his grief. While debate raged, influential high earls and earls close to the king were killed by a fearsome beast which still prowls these lands unhindered. Then a man came to Cyningham.”
He ground his teeth for a second.
“A merchant, a man who made his fortune trading various wares to different towns, nations and tribes came to the castle. William Normand is his name but he claims to be William of Benedictus.”
“What!?” Alfwuld exclaimed.
“He said that he was the illegitimate son of Fredwitt and that his mother had only told him the truth on her deathbed. Of course, he had no evidence and he refused to attempt drawing the sword from the stone. But a moot was called and all the earls and high earls gathered to discuss his claim to the throne.”
“A moot?” Alfwulf cried. “A moot? Is this jest? Why call a moot when his legitimacy could be tested by simply asking him to draw the claymore from the Kingstone? What madness has gripped the kingdom?”
“No madness,” Wulf replied, “only politics and manipulation. That beast I mentioned killed a large number of the wise and respectable earls who would have demanded William try the sword. And I have checked this, the majority of the remaining high earls are either good friends of William Normand, business associates or indebted to him. Those who have no direct dealings with William, have ties to his friends and partners. William is in good stead with many other merchants who hold considerable influence over many of the lords who now remain. The majority of the votes were in William Normand’s favour, he now declares himself to be of Benedictus and has been officially declared as prince regent.”
Alfwuld opened his beak but apparently his tongue was in a state of shock because he said nothing.
“He does not wear the crown but he holds the Sceptre of Kings. One of his first actions was to call all the black knights back to High Realm to serve as his guards and servants. He also forced the court wizard and the guards of the Royal Castle into early retirement and replaced them with black knights and recently pardoned criminals. He chooses people who have nothing and owe him everything to be his lackeys because he knows they will never bite the hand which feeds them. He governs by decree and has promoted many of his merchant lackeys to positions of power and authority. Robert Greenfield was just a rich merchant but now he is a high earl and one of William’s most loyal stooges.”
“But what was his herald doing here? Why did he demand Peter’s animals and why was everyone kidnapped?” Sam asked.
Wulf growled.
“The prince regent and his henchmen are soft-bellied and have bottomless appetites. Thrice every week, the prince regent holds a feast and his feasts are never modest, they are full banquets with no expense spared. Except, expense is spared because the regent doesn’t pay for his feasting. No, he orders his black knights to requisition all the food and drink he desires from the farmers and traders who live close to Cyningham. Anyone who resists is thrown into jail and no one has been released so far. Tolheath isn’t the first village to be completely imprisoned. Edgerton’s farmers refused to give the regent bread for no payment and the whole region stood in defiance. The black knights were sent in and the whole village is now imprisoned in one of the many new gaols which have been erected in the kingdom. As to why Robert Greenfield was requisitioning from our shire rather than his earldom? I would guess he just wants to humiliate our own earl, Eric Bromley.”
Venom dripped from Wulf’s words as he finished this last sentence and his smouldering anger burst like a flame for a split second.
“How can the regent go imprisoning entire villages?” Morgana asked. “The fields need to be tilled and livestock need to be tended. How has he replaced Edgerton’s farmers?”
“Barbarians,” Wulf replied, “foreigners from the north. They barely speak our language. The prince regent imported several hundred of these savage folk and told them that Edgerton was theirs so long as they obeyed his laws and provided him with free food and supplies for his feasts. They accepted his offer gladly.”
There was a pause in the conversation as everyone processed what had been said. The situation was dire and a dark feeling now loomed over the party.
“So,” Sam said, slowly, “my parents and our friends and neighbours are jailed somewhere?”
Wulf nodded.
“Where are they? How do we get them out?”
Wulf looked at Sam and for the first time, he looked neither gruff nor angry. A hint of sadness showed in his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Sam’s heart fell.
Then he felt something tap his hand and he looked down to see Alfwuld with his wing raised.
“Do not worry my friend,” he said, looking at Sam warmly, “your parents and the whole of Tolheath shall be freed, you have my word.”
“And who are you?” Wulf asked. “You did not share your name before and now I see you making promises beyond your power.”
Alfwuld turned to Wulf.
“Now is the time to reveal myself. I am Alfwuld of Benedictus, slayer of the great forest bear, crown prince of High Realm, first born of the king of High Realm, Fredwitt of Benedictus. I was cursed and sent far away to Creta to go mad in an accursed labyrinth but I was rescued from darkness by the persons in front of you whom I am happy to call my dearest and most trusted friends.”
Chapter Three
THE EARL OF APPLEWATER
Later in his life, Sam could not remember how he had expected Sir Wulf to react to Alfwuld’s claim to be the prince. Perhaps he had imagined Wulf would respond joyfully or laugh derisively.
There was no way Sam could have predicted how Wulf acted next.
The knight roared, leapt to his feet and his hands reached for the mighty blade hanging from his belt.
“Liar!”
He drew his claymore and its song filled the air. The weapon was called Head Hunter and it sang for its wielder to strike the head of his foes.
“Yet another pretender!” Wulf shouted. “Yet another deceiver to bring ruin and disaster to our land!”
He marched towards Alfwuld, his sword raised and Sam knew what he intended to do.
“No Wulf!” he cried, pushing Alfwuld behind him and stepping towards the enraged knight.
Wulf stopped but did not lower his blade.
“Out of the way,” he commanded, growling every word, “this must be done!”
“We won’t let you hurt him!” Stella yelled.
Stella was sparkling with lightning and Morgana had taken out her small crossbow and was pointing it at Wulf. Herbert had also moved beside Sam in front of Alfwuld, blocking the knight’s path to the penguin.
“None of you can stop me,” Wulf said, his voice low, “step aside.”
“Sir, he’s telling the truth!” Sam cried. “He is the prince! He has been cursed to be this bird!”
Wulf’s eyes were still fierce and burning with fury but there was a subtle change in the air as his body loosened and he sheathed his sword.
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“Because I know who you are, I shall at least listen to what you have to say. Why do you say he is the prince?”
Then Sam told Wulf and Edith the whole story. How he was teleported to the labyrinth, how he met Stella, Morgana, Herbert and Alfwuld. The penguin then detailed how he ended up in Creta, and Sam with some help from Stella and Morgana continued the rest of the tale ending with their journey over the mountains of Grēndæl.
Both Edith and Wulf listened in silence, the librarian was fascinated by their adventures and her eyes grew wider and wider as she listened but the knight of Tolheath remained stoic.
When the story was finally finished, Wulf examined the penguin coldly and looked at Sam, his gaze no less stern.
“So you have no proof that he is the crown prince,” Wulf said, “just his word and your trust in it.”
“He has shown courage and skill in battle despite his form,” Sam said, “who else but a knight, an earl or prince could do either?”
“During all the time we’ve travelled together, I’ve never observed him telling a lie,” Morgana added, “because of this, I have no reason to distrust his claim that he is the prince.”
Herbert made a soft clunking sound.
“Oh and Herbert thinks he is telling the truth as well.”
It was subtle but Sam could tell that Alfwuld was beaming with pride at his friends’ descriptions.
“He has also been very kind and polite,” Stella said, “well… actually he wasn’t very kind or polite when we first met him. But he has become much nicer recently.”
“Yes… thanks Stella,” said Alfwuld hesitantly, his chest deflating a little.
“So no evidence,” said Wulf, his arms crossed, “your assessments of his honesty do not count.”
“But Wulf…”
“No listen to me Sam,” Wulf said, his anger returning, “ever since the regent took charge of the country, there have been numerous charlatans and fools posing as some distant heir to the throne. Some people are desperate for hope – even fool’s hope.”
Sam noticed a change in the man’s expression, the knight became more mellow but the anger remained and then Sam saw it; the fury in his eyes did not come from irritation or poor temper but instead from pain – the pain of seeing tragic events and being helpless to stop them.
A sad quiet fell.
“A few have even tried leading rebellions. Foolish but innocent folk have lost their lives because of these pretenders. The prince regent takes no prisoners in these matters,” Wulf said, his voice grim and slow.
His eyes then lit up once more with fierce conviction.
“This is why I cannot allow another pretender to walk in High Realm. He’ll cause more damage and make everything worse than it already is.”
“But just because everyone else has lied doesn’t mean…” Edith said, speaking after being silent for so long.
“Which is why I have asked for evidence.” Wulf interrupted. “And I have been shown nothing!”
“What would it take to persuade you that I am telling the truth?” Alfwuld asked.
Wulf looked at Alfwuld his face unreadable.
“There’s… nothing you could do…”
He paused.
Sam furrowed his eyebrows.
“You’re thinking of something,” he said, “what is it?”
“There’s… there’s one person who could tell us whether you are telling the truth… but taking you to him would be a great risk for everyone and besides I know the outcome.”
“Who is this man?” Stella asked. “Is he near?”
“I can reveal none of these things here,” said Wulf, “and I do not see the point. This bird is another pretender. It would be a waste of time.”
“How can you speak like that?!” Sam said, taking a step forwards, it was his turn to get angry. “The prince regent is a tyrant! You’ve said as much yourself. The only way to remove him is to reveal a true heir and you’ve admitted there is a way to determine if Alfwuld is telling the truth but then you say it is a waste of time! What is the matter with you?”
Everyone stood back surprised by Sam’s challenge, even Wulf was silent for a moment.
“He’s not telling the truth,” Wulf said finally, “he will prove no different to all these other pretenders who have popped out of the woodwork ever since the great pretender took the king’s sceptre. You should stop looking for hope when there is none!”
Sam did not step back. He trusted Alfwuld, he knew that the penguin was the prince of High Realm and would argue his claim anywhere and to anyone.
Wulf saw the defiance on Sam’s face and made an irritated growl.
“I can see you will not let this go,” he said, “we shall go to my friend. But I warn you now: that bird is just another pretender but with a different coat of paint. And when it is confirmed that his story is a fiction, I shall be there to deliver punishment fit for the crime.”
Wulf told them it was not safe to remain where they were and that they needed to leave soon.
They took everything they could from the galleon. The surviving pieces of Morgana’s alchemy set and the three chests full of gold were placed on Herbert’s platform for him to carry. They would have taken the two brass cannons and some of the pikes and sabres as well but, not only was there no room left on Herbert’s platform, he was already being pushed to his limits by the rest of the baggage.
Before they set off properly, Wulf rode to his house on Galahad to retrieve his armour and see if his home had been looted. When he returned, a large knapsack was strapped to his back and two big saddle bags were hanging on Galahad. Sam could see the armour pieces in the bags.
“They robbed Peter’s farm,” Wulf said, “but left my house untouched. I don’t know why but it is a small bit of good luck.”
Edith shared the possibility that the looters and black knights had left his house alone because of his reputation. Some years ago, Wulf had fought in a campaign repelling a northern barbarian intrusion and word had it he was a fearsome warrior. Wulf merely grunted at Edith’s suggestion.
The captain colossus was told to stay behind and guard the skysailer before Wulf mounted Galahad and everyone else climbed aboard Herbert’s platform. Then the party set off at a leisurely pace up the dirt road following the knight’s lead.
“Where are we going?” Sam asked.
“To Applewater,” Wulf said in response, “and to my lord. Our earl remains true and is no friend of the prince regent or Robert Greenfield. He wouldn’t have allowed Greenfield to do what he has done.”
Sam hadn’t met the earl of Applewater but he had heard of him and everyone in Tolheath knew of him and his home. Applewater was the name of a large village, its surrounding land and of a river which both were named after. The river was ringed by fertile farmland but it was most famous for its apple trees which grew next to the water in great numbers and produced an abundance of fine apples. Most of these were used in the creation of cider and Applewater cider was the finest in High Realm. The earl was in charge of the earldom which encompassed this land as well as Tolheath.
“Is he…?” Sam began.
“No,” Wulf replied, guessing Sam’s query, “our discerning friend is far from here but we will need to speak to Eric to plan the journey. For the moment, we shouldn’t discuss any of these things. Private conversation is not so private in High Realm now.”
Wulf said they would reach Applewater after nightfall. For the first hour of travel, everyone remained in a serious silence, eyes open for any possible spies of the prince regent. However, there was no one suspicious hiding in the fields, hedges or bushes and they didn’t meet anyone on the road.
After a while, conversations about unrelated topics began and everyone relaxed a little. Sam and Alfwuld talked about the countryside, Edith began pestering Wulf about his favourite books and he tried to give only single word responses. Everyone in Tolheath knew that Edith had a crush on Wulf but if the dark and brooding knight knew anything of her affections, he pretended not to notice them.
Meanwhile, Stella would float on and off Herbert’s back to pick nearby flowers. Stella’s herb lore was good, excellent in fact, but occasionally she would ask Morgana for the name of one flower or another.
“Campanula rotundifolia,” Morgana said, when Stella showed one flower from a large bundle in her arms, “harebell.”
“Harebell,” Stella mused, looking at the blue flower, “it’s pretty! But I have been all over Home Wood and never seen it.”
“It’s not native to High Realm,” Morgana said, “it comes from the Northlands where the barbarians live. It is not normally seen this far south in the country.”
“Oh!” Stella replied with interest, “can I put some of these harebells in your hair Morgana? I am running out of room to hold all these flowers.”
Morgana sighed but everyone knew she was only feigning annoyance.
“If you want.”
The journey took them up and over many hills and past numerous fields high with corn or populated by grazing animals. As twilight drew near, the party reached the top of a wooded hill, low grasses grew between the tall trees and a brook could be heard. As they continued to follow the path, some of the ground formed into a natural ditch with trees flanking it on either side, in this trench a shallow stream was flowing. Sam’s eyes followed the stream and saw that it started from a small knoll which was dominated by a large ash tree; the water was coming from a hole in the side of the hill.
“That stream is one of the starting tributaries of the Applewater River,” Alfwuld said.
“We are not far,” Wulf stated.
As they left the wood and went down the hill on the other side, the country opened up and the landscape was smooth rolling hills high with corn for miles around. In the distance, the land levelled next to a turning point in a gentle river, on this flat plain was a village far larger than Tolheath. The details were difficult to make out due to the distance and the setting sun but it was clearly Applewater.
They continued down the path, the sun set an hour later but with Herbert’s bright light they were able to travel without difficulty. By this time, everyone was growing hungry and they all hoped they would arrive at Applewater shortly.
Another hour passed, till Herbert’s light found the walls of houses, from here they followed the path onto a street and Wulf led the way to a stone bridge which went over the river. Upon crossing the bridge, they saw the dark outline of a large house to their left, light was coming out of a few windows.
“Eric Bromley’s grand house,” Wulf said.
They moved under the wooden arch which marked a gate in the walls surrounding the earl’s garden and then proceeded up the path to the doors of the house. Sam, Stella, Morgana, Alfwuld and Edith climbed off Herbert’s back and stood next to Wulf who used the doorknocker.
A minute passed before the door opened. The man on the other side was a bit shorter than Wulf and ten years older, he had dark blond hair verging on brown and a trimmed beard, he was of a slighter build than Wulf but he stood with a refined air of confidence and authority. His clothes nevertheless were simple in fashion and the colours were far from stately, his trousers were black and his shirt was a dark blue. Sam noticed that the man’s finger tips were stained black and he was wiping them with an already-blackened cloth.
The man looked at them in surprise with his bright green eyes.
“Wulf,” he said, his manner and voice were friendlier than Wulf’s yet his clear authority remained undiminished, “I knew you would return swiftly but this is a record even for you.”
“My lord,” Wulf said respectfully, “I have completed the task you set me. But as I am sure you are aware, Tolheath has been taken.”
The earl made an anguished sigh and his eyes turned sad.
“The news reached me only hours ago. I hoped that you might have been spared those ill tidings until you had arrived back here. Take your horse and colossus to the stable and come in. We have much to discuss.”
“Right,” Wulf said.
He took Galahad’s reins and looked at Herbert.
“Follow me colossus.”
Wulf moved but Herbert did not follow.
“Herbert go with him please,” Morgana said, “you won’t fit in the house and we need to keep a low profile.”
Herbert made what sounded like an annoyed groan and followed Wulf very slowly.
Eric welcomed the rest of them into his house. As Sam walked into the earl’s hallway, he noticed an open door nearby which led into a room with a strange machine in one of its corners. Most of it appeared to be made of wood, although a few metal components could be seen, but Sam could not tell what it was as the only light in the room was coming from a table covered with thick candles and piles of paper.
Eric noticed his gaze but said nothing. He walked over to the door, shut it and then locked it with a key from his pocket before turning round again.
“Please tell me your names.”
Everyone introduced themselves, except Alfwuld who stayed quiet.
“I’ve heard of you, Sam,” Eric said after their introductions, “you’re the boy in Tolheath who disappeared?”
“Yes, I’ve been gone a while,” said Sam, “I only just returned today, my lord.”
“At ease, the formalities can rest tonight,” Eric said, his voice kind, “I regret that you had to return to High Realm in these dark times. My heart breaks for Tolheath. Every village for miles around has now heard of what happened.”
Wulf came through the front door.
“Your colossus doesn’t like me,” he said to Morgana.
“His name’s Herbert,” Morgana replied, “you should address him by his name.”
Wulf scowled, before looking to Eric.
“I hope we have not interrupted anything.”
“No my friend,” said Eric, closing the main doors, “the servants have gone to their homes for the night. I have some food leftover from supper. Go to the feast hall and I’ll bring some refreshments.”
Eric walked to another part of his house while Wulf led the group up the corridor to the dining hall. As they walked, Sam leaned over and whispered to Morgana.
“Did you see what that machine was in the room?” he asked quietly.
“You mean the room which the earl locked?” she whispered back.
“Yes.”
“No, I didn’t get a chance to look at it.”
Sam shrugged. He didn’t know why but he wanted to know what the contraption was, however, he knew by the way Eric had acted that he wasn’t meant to have seen it and he didn’t feel comfortable asking either Eric or Wulf what the machine was.
For the moment, he pushed his curiosity to the back of his mind, he knew there would be another time to investigate.
The modest feasting hall had an aged oak table lined with many chairs in its centre and, at the end of the room, a large stone fireplace with dying flames which lit up the chamber. Above the fireplace, there were several mounted deer heads and a pair of crossed blades.
Everyone took a seat. Sam, Stella, Morgana and Alfwuld sat together on one side of the table, while Edith and Wulf sat on the other side. The librarian kept stealing glances at the knight and he kept ignoring her. The earl entered through a door next to the fireplace carrying several trays, upon these were thick slices of bread and big wedges of cheese.
“Eat your fill,” he said, placing the trays before his guests, “you must be hungry.”
Everyone expressed their thanks and ate. No one talked for a short while and Eric said nothing but instead sat at the head of the table in patient silence.
Finally, when everyone had refreshed themselves with his food and drink, Eric spoke.
“You’re here about Tolheath.”
“Yes my lord,” Wulf replied, “although that is only the first matter we need to discuss.”
“Please, is there anything which can be done to rescue Tolheath?” Sam asked, suddenly. “You’re our earl and this is your earldom.”
Eric shook his head sadly.
“It pains me but there is little I can do,” he said and Sam’s heart sank, “other than send a formal complaint to the regent and I doubt he will rule against Robert Greenfield as he is one of his greatest allies. If I had known before what he was going to do, I might have been able to stop him in the act but I was not even informed that he had sent his herald to Tolheath searching for food to requisition for the regent’s feasts. He deliberately took a route far away around Applewater so I would not spot him or his war band.”
“Do you know why he sent his herald to Tolheath?” Edith asked, “it is rather far.”
Edith was right, although Sam’s geography knowledge wasn’t the best, he knew that Wheathampton was in the shire north of Applewater.
“Couldn’t he requisition from his own lands?”
“Well he has and continues to… but mostly for his own feasts,” Eric said, “High Earl Edwin Stoutstan and his entire family who ruled Wheathamptonshire were killed by the beast weeks ago and Robert Greenfield assumed his place by order of the regent. I don’t think he has squeezed the people dry in his earldom but he and I have butted heads on a number of occasions. I think he issued the requisition demands to Tolheath so he would have an excuse to jail the village and so attack both me and my shire. Greenfield is a spiteful and petty man but he is also as cunning as a snake.”
“But he’s not allowed to take from your lands is he?” Sam asked.
“Technically no,” Eric said, “he does outrank me but under the laws and traditions of the kingdom, he has no right to do as he has done in my earldom. And a real prince regent would never stand this behaviour.”
“But we don’t have a real prince regent,” Wulf said gruffly.
“No, for the moment the village is gone, the most I can do is stop any foreigners or criminals taking Tolheath for themselves. Invited by the regent’s lackeys or otherwise.”
“There is one course of action that could be taken,” said Wulf, “you could challenge Greenfield to a duel. A duel for the people of Tolheath.”
Eric rested his head on his chin and he stared into the dying fireplace, his eyes deep in thought.
“You are right, it would stand,” he said, finally, “I have been disrespected and he has overstepped his boundaries and authority with his actions. However, Greenfield is a merchant and cares nothing for the chivalry found between knights and lords. He would refuse my challenge outright.”
“He is a coward,” Wulf agreed, “his hands are more acquainted with the coin than the sword. However, he is no idiot. Not so many of the earls have been replaced with dishonourable wretches that he could refuse such a duel without disgrace. I reckon he would select a champion to fight in his stead and in that case you too would have the right to choose your own champion for the duel.”
“What you say is true,” Eric replied.
“My lord, if you challenge and this happens,” Wulf said, “I beseech you to select me as your champion. I shall not fail.”
These last words were delivered with a fierce but tempered passion and Sam knew that the knight would not be refused not even by his own lord.
“Oh Sir Wulf! You are so brave!” Edith cried in admiration, her hand on her chest.
Wulf pretended not to hear her.
“This is a subject for tomorrow,” Eric said, “I shall prepare a challenge which I’ll give to my herald. But there was another matter you mentioned?”
“We came here to tell you that Alfwuld has returned!” Stella said, excitedly. “He’s with us now.”
Eric snapped around to look at the shadow wisp, his face a mixture of bewilderment and shock.
“It is true,” Alfwuld said opening his beak for the first time, “I have returned.”
The earl looked at the penguin and froze.
“Is this a cruel jest?” he asked, slowly.
Sensing that the earl was not taking any of this well, Sam, Stella, Morgana and Alfwuld told their tale, each starting with how they were teleported out of High Realm and into the puppet master’s labyrinth in Creta.
Together, they told the story of how they escaped the labyrinth, defeated the puppet master, of their journey across the Raging Sea, their first confrontation with Stratos Kane and their escape from his tower in Mystos and their discovery of Dælford, their victory over Wilfreda and her woollies, their final battle with Stratos Kane and ended with their journey over the Southern Mountains.
“Your knight Sir Wulf has withheld certain data,” Morgana said as they finished the story, “but he has told us that you both know someone who can ascertain whether Alfwuld is telling the truth about his identity.”
The earl had been listening intently to their tale, leaning forwards in his chair, his chin on his hand as he took in all the details and considered them in his mind.
“I know to whom you are referring,” he said.
Not moving his head, Eric looked to Sir Wulf.
“Do you trust Sam?” he asked. “I don’t know any of these four but he is from your village.”
Wulf sighed.
“I think the bird is lying,” he said, “I do believe that Sam thinks the penguin is the prince in a cursed form. I said I’d take him to you-know-who to get the matter settled. They refuse to drop this.”
Eric nodded, before taking his hand off his chin and leaning backwards in his chair.
“All this talk can stop for now,” he said, “Wulf and I shall have to speak privately about this. In the meanwhile, we should all retire for the night, everyone has had a long journey. Tomorrow, we shall return to these matters.”
With this, the meeting ended and Eric led everyone to the guestrooms.