Enchanted~The First of Four

Preamble

Once upon a white summer, in the kingdom on Arayle , the only daughter of King Reynold and Queen Loryssi was born.

“A white summer?” you ask, and I shall explain. It was so incredibly hot in Arayle that summer, that all the corn in then fields popped, creating a substance no one had ever seen before! The King saw a new commodity in this ‘popcorn’ as it came to be called, and ordered it mixed with butter and/or caramel to be sold. And now, let us return to our story.

A hushed, hurried atmosphere lay over the palace. All rushed about their business quietly, yet still found time to chatter about the extraordinary event that was taking place.
Two maids finished their chores and hid in a cozy alcove close to the Royal bedchamber to gossip about the happenings.

”Well I happen to know,”

said one of the maids, a mousy creature with a cheerful face and a turned-up nose.

“that for all the years of their marriage, the Queen has had no baby!”

“Phhht!”

said the other, the opposite of mousy, she was tall and fair, with the right clothing she could pass for a high-born lady.

“Everyone knows the Queen was childless! That’s no secret. And all of Arayle is relieved she is finally with child.”

The door to the Queen’s bedchamber flew open, cutting off the maids’ conversation. A harried, rumpled man in rich robes stood in the doorway, finding himself being backed out by a rag-shaking midwife.

“A room where a child is being birthed is no place for a man! I don’t care if you are the King! Out! Out! Out!”

she shrieked, finally using brute force to shove him out of the doorway.

“And you two!”

she cried, espying the maids

“get me some clean rags and hot water. Be quick about it too!”

The two ran for the kitchen as if the very devil was after them. The two returned only a few minutes later, bearing enough rags and water to birth ten children. They peeked into the hall, unsure how the midwife, who was known for her bad temper would react. The King sat on the floor opposite the door, nervously twiddling his thumbs. The maids crept into the hall, dropping him a timid curtsey, then opened the door gingerly and stepped inside. An instant later they fled, empty buckets following their flight.

“This water isn’t near hot enough!”

the midwife hollered,

“bring me back hot water next time! And only two buckets next time! Not four!”

The maids bolted for the kitchen, hauling the buckets with them. For the second time they returned, this time arguing over who had to go inside first.

“You go in first, Sofi.”

insisted the tall fair girl,

“No you Tama,”

Sophie said, backing away.

“I’ll settle this.”

said the King, rising to his feet with an effort, and
knocked on the door loudly.

“Midwife! Sofi and Tama are here with the hot water!”

The midwife opened the door, grabbed the buckets roughly, testing the water with one finger. “Well it’s hot enough.” she grumbled, appearing to be disappointed with nothing to find fault with.

“Come in here, girls. I could use your help.”

The maids looked at each other nervously, then stepped inside the room.

“You stay out here.”

the midwife said, poking the King in the chest.
As the door shut they could hear him muttering,

“I don’t want to leave my wife. I’m the King. Why should I listen to a midwife?”

The door banged shut, leaving no room for argument.
The King paced outside of the room for what seemed like days; in actuality it was six hours.
Finally, just as he was ready to burst in and demand what was going on, the door opened, and the maids scurried out, followed by the midwife who had a grim look on her face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

demanded the King, about ready to faint with worry.

“Your Highness,”

started the midwife carefully.

“Your wife is very weak. You should probably go in and see her and your new daughter.”

The King pushed past the midwife and rushed into the room. He knelt by his wife’s side, gently stroking her hair.

“Look darling.”

her voice was barely a whisper.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

The King bent his head, tears running down his face; he knew she was dying.

“Shhhhh, it’s all right, sweetheart.”

she raised one hand in a supreme effort and touched his forehead.

“I’ll be fine. No tears, love.”

He raised his head, forcing himself to smile at her.

“That’s better.”

she smiled up at him, then turned her head and gazed at the baby, nestled safely in the crook of her arm. She was perfect, all pink and rosy, sleeping cherubically.
The Queen swept a lock of hair off her cheek, than looked intensely into the King’s eyes.

“Reynold,”

she said softly.

“Call her Elyne.”

Her eyes closed, and for a moment he thought she had merely fallen asleep.
But when he saw her limp hand fall from the child’s cheek he knew the truth.
He cried out, sobbing uncontrollably. He wept, tears streaming down his cheek,
gazing at his wife’s face. He cried until he fell asleep right there, head on the dead
Queen’s shoulder, one hand resting lightly on her hair.
When he awoke some time later, he ordered that the Queen’s body be taken care of, lifted the baby, cradling this little piece of his wife to him, and strode out the door, nearly knocking against the Prime Minister.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

he called over his shoulder.

Then went directly to the stables, ordered his steed saddled,
and left, heading east. When he returned that evening he had with him
the sorceress Reana. None knew how he had convinced her to come, neither
did they know why she stayed at the castle. But she did, for the next eight years,
doubling as the child’s nanny, and when she grew older, her governess.

Chapter One
Flight from the Castle

When I was eight I discovered a secret passage
that led from my bedchamber, which had once been
my mother’s, to my father’s Counsel room, where he met
with his advisors. Almost daily I crept through the dust-filled
passage to listen in at the door.
I heard state-secrets that the Captain of the Guard didn’t know.
One day, I was found out.

“……and as we all know the Rydorian army is advancing at an alarming rate.”

The Prime Minister’s voice filtered through the thin wall,

“so we all agree you must send Elyne to the countryside.”

I leapt to my feet, pushing open the secret door,

“I won’t go! I won’t go! I want to stay here! You can’t make me!”

Chaos reigned. All the advisors leapt to their feet, shouting, and waving their arms. A few voices were distinguishable over the general hubbub.

“…how long as she been there?”

“…what does she know?”

My father raised one hand, bringing instant silence.

“Daughter, I was wondering how long it would take you to discover that passage.”

He smiled slightly.

“You take after your mother in that wise.”

his voice grew sterner.

“I need to know. How much do you know?”

I refused to hang my head or look ashamed. I stood, head held high,
every inch a Princess.

“I know about the assassination plot.”

I said in a high clear voice.

“I know that the Rydor is attacking Arayle.”

Murmurs began to ripple through the room, It was becoming apparent I knew most of the state secrets.

“I know that you plan to head south and then circle around to the back to attack the 7th division of the Rydorian army to gain the advantage. I know you are going to use the new weapon you invented, the cannon; I know,”

My father raised his hand.

“Enough.”

He looked impressed.

“you have been busy. you know most of, if not all of the state secrets. Have you told anyone?”

I shook my head.

“No, Papa.”

I jumped off the ledge I was perched on, half-way up the wall, running to my Papa, throwing my arms around his neck. I whispered in his ear.

“I’m sorry Papa. Don’t be mad at me, I’ll go.”

My Papa carefully disentangled me from him.

“Go to your room.”

he instructed me.

“We are not going to send you away unless there is imminent
danger. Now go.”

I ran off quickly, wiping back the tears I had been holding back, and I ran right into Reana. I looked up and hugged her spontaneously.

“What art the problem, love?”

I smiled up at her, my whole story coming out in a tangle, tripping over myself in my eagerness
to blurt the whole thing out.
When I was done she remained silent for some time, deep in thought.
She finally broke out of her thoughts, turning to me.

“Darling, though this seemeth strange to you, thy father is right in making preparations to send thee away. There is danger dearheart, and I wouldst not have thee harmed for the world.”

I relaxed comforted by her presence and by her way of speech, strange as it was to all others.

“Reana,”

I asked,

“you are coming with me, are you not?”

“Elyne, I wouldst not dream of leaving thee. Now go to thy chambers, I will be along shortly after I hath consulted with Reynold thy father in this matter.”

I reluctantly pulled away and ran to my chambers.

Reana returned only a few minutes later, she seemed unchanged in this face of the impending war, I wondered how she could stand it!

“Reana,”

I asked, hanging off a bedpost,

“Where are we going, exactly?”

“To the country, dearheart.”

she replied absently,

“And when will we leave, Reana?”

“When thy father decides that it is time.”

“How long will it take us to get there?”

“About a week on horseback.”

“Can I ride my own horse?”

“Yes.”

“What will the horse’s name be?”

“I know not.”

I knew I was pushing my luck with all these questions, but I decided to try one more.

“Reana?”

“Yes, Elyne?”

“Are you married?”

Her jaw tightened and she said in a very calm voice,

“No, Elyne.”

“Reana,”

She sighed heavily,

“Yes, Elyne?”

“Are you going to marry Papa?”

Reana leveled her gaze at me, I felt like I was going to fry in its intensity,

“Where didst thou get the notion that thy father and I wert even considering the notion of marriage?”

I waved my hand vaguely,

“Some of the maids......”

“The maids’ gossip art nonsense.” “

she said firmly,

Thou shouldst not listen to their idle chatter.”

“Yes, Reana.”

Another thought occurred to me,

“Reana?”

Reana spun around to face me,

“Elyne, dost though not have some chore to perform?”

“Not really.”

“Than go and write out a one-page essay on the war.”

I sighed heavily, slid off the bed and trotted over to my little desk. It was the one thing I really loved, it was roll-top desk, made from cherry wood and polished until it reflected the light, I loved to use it, even if I did have to write out an essay.

“Elyne, write it in Latin.”

“Reana!”

“Child, thou knowest enough Latin to write a simple essay.”

I grumbled while I was writing-though very quietly, and I made sure my handwriting was neat. Reana would make me write it over again if it was messy.

“I’m done, Reana.”

I sang when I finished. Reana picked up the piece of paper and examined it carefully.

“Thou hast done well.”

she approved,

“Now go show this to thy father, he wast closeted with his advisors when I left him, though he may be finished by know.”

Rena kissed my forehead.

“Thou art growing up to be a fine child, dearheart. Thy life shall be blessed.”

Her benediction hang over me all day like a soft, comforting blanket.