Sarahl - Prologue

“They have no inn, Your Majesty,” claimed the soldier. “However, the townsfolk would be glad to have you.”1

The King contemplated. He sat tall on his speckled white stallion, the cool breeze blowing his tan hair gently. His thin red traveling cape fluttered behind him and settled on the horse’s rump. His friendly brown eyes took in everything, every detail around him. The King was quite handsome, from his shiny riding boots resting in the stirrups to his broad hands, holding the reins capably. Somehow, the man managed to have a casually majestic air, as if aware of his position but not ready to flaunt it.2

“Very well,” he said after a pause. “Have four men inspect every house in this village for the most appropriate one,” he ordered a lieutenant. The man nodded and singled out four soldiers. He pointed them in different directions and returned to his place by the King, staring straight ahead.3

The men were completely silent. They’d been traveling for two days since the last town. None of them were hungry or even tired, but the King had insisted that they take every opportunity to rest.4

To the King’s right sat mounted the Captain of his Guard. To his left sat the lieutenant on a mild bay horse. Three more officers sat on horses somewhere behind them. The rest of the men were foot soldiers, fifty of them.5

Women from the cottages around them were threading their way through the ranks, passing out loaves of bread and cups of water to the soldiers. The men were uncertain about taking the food, but the King gave a slight smile and nodded to all of them.6

The women were shy and, after passing out all of the rations, clustered on either side of the small band of soldiers. A few minutes later, the first of the four dispatched soldiers returned, followed soon by the other three.7

“Your Majesty,” greeted the last soldier to arrive. “We’ve found it.”8

The King nodded. “Lead the way.”9

The soldier turned sharply and marched down the dirt road. The other three bowed to the King and resumed their places in the group.10

When the King and his escort reached the cottage, the door was standing open and a homely woman was peering at them through the window. The King dismounted. Trusting his horse to the lieutenant, the King strode into the cottage. Outside, the soldiers dispersed to find a place of their own to stay or camp. The lieutenant tied the horse to a wooden post and left for the next cottage, to ask for oats or hay. 11

The Captain of the Guard sat straight and positioned his horse carefully at the bottom of the short path leading up to the cottage. From there, he could see anything that happened along the dirt road and the sides of the house. He ordered a straggling soldier to become a sentry for the back area of the cottage. As Captain of the King’s personal Guard, it was his job to keep the King protected at all times, even when the King didn’t order it.12

Inside, the King spoke to the tenant of the cottage, the homely woman. “Madam, I sincerely hope you don’t mind my using your cottage as a temporary home. I promise you that I and my Guard will move out by noon tomorrow.” He smiled charmingly. The woman looked startled. 13

“Oh, I – No. I mean, I’m honored that you would choose to stay here, Your Majesty,” she said softly, looking admiringly up at him. 14

“May I ask your name?” the King asked formally.15

“My name is Gwen,” she said in a rush, and then added, “Your Majesty.”16

The King smiled at her, a tall, strong noble to a shorter, wide-eyed housewife. “Thank you for your kind hospitality. I must go attend to other matters, but I will return soon.” 17

He strode out of the cottage, leaving Gwen to stare out the window after him. She was weak at the knees. This was so different from her usual self, she knew. She was the most strong-willed woman in the village. She always spoke her mind, never faltered, never stumbled. But this day, in front of the handsome King, she had hardly been able to speak. She watched as he made his way down the incline leading to the dirt road. She stared after him as he spoke briefly to the mounted man at the wooden gate, then untied and mounted his horse and trotted off. 18

“Ohh…” she moaned to herself. She was in love with the King, the ruler of her country. At that moment, Gwen could have slapped herself. Instead, she pushed herself away from the wall and got to work cooking dinner for two. 19

That night, after eating the largest dinner Gwen could have prepared alone, the King sat back and smiled at her like a satisfied schoolboy. “The meal was excellent. Fit for a King, you might say.” 20

Working hard to keep herself from blushing, and failing miserably, she sunk lower in her chair and felt her cheeks burn up. “Ah…Thank you much, Your Majesty. It’s just a humble meal, as humble as my cottage.” Just knowing that she’d said something wrong or inappropriate, she stood abruptly and began gathering the dishes on the table, simple wooden plates and knives. She carried them out back, into the fading light, and put them on a shelf attached to the outside of the house. Under the shelf was a barrel full of water and one bar of homemade soap. 21

Gwen paused and leaned against the familiar log wall. The wood was rough and caught her deer skin jerkin and her rich, dark brown hair. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling the lingering breeze. “How can I be so stupid?” she muttered to herself, and swore. “I can’t be in love with the King!” She swore again. Gwen shook her head wildly and heard a snap as a twig broke a ways in front of her. She stood still. In the new darkness, she couldn’t see ahead of her, and she hadn’t bothered to bring a candle. “Who is there?”22

A man’s voice broke through the darkness. “I am the sentry. Is everything well?”23

Gwen sighed in relief, then tightened as she wondered if he’d heard what she’d been saying to herself. Was it a crime to love a King if you weren’t royalty yourself? Gwen sincerely hoped not. She comforted herself with the thought that she had been speaking too quietly for the man to hear even a few feet away. “Yes,” she replied. “I – The King is fine.” She sensed the sentry nod and move back into the darkness. Breathing a sigh, she turned back to the dishes.24

Nearly four hours later, she and the King were sitting around the hearth in the front room. The King picked up the metal rod and began stoking the coals, which had begun to die. Gwen awoke from her thoughts at the sound. “Oh! I’m so sorry, there’s no need for you to do that,” she exclaimed nervously, but didn’t dare reach out and take the rod from his hand. She had just been getting slightly comfortable around the man, and she didn’t want to disturb that.25

The King glanced at her. “No, it’s fine. I’m not fragile.” He studied her for a few moments, making her blush and stare determinedly at the fire. “Madam – Gwen…Perhaps you should go to bed. You look dreadfully tired, and I don’t blame you.”26

Gwen kept her eyes on the fire. It was true. She was tired. She usually went to bed much earlier than this, and today had been an even more tiring day than usual, but she couldn’t fail her guest. Not any guest, but especially not the King. Not this King. Suddenly realizing that she was being incredibly rude by not looking at him, and not answering his comment, she mentally slapped herself and forced her eyes up to his face.27

“I…I’m not –”, but the truth came spilling out anyway. How could she lie to the King? “Actually, I am tired, but I cannot retire before my guest.” 28

The King smiled at her kindly. “Gwen, you go to bed. I’ll be sleeping where we arranged earlier, by the other wall, but I must stay up a bit longer to…think.” Gwen looked at him. That had sounded like an order…Sighing in defeat, she stepped into the back room and changed swiftly into looser clothes to sleep in. When she re-entered the front room, the King was hunched over in his chair, obviously deep in thought. Gwen said nothing to him and, trusting that he would know to put out the fire before retiring to his mat by the opposite wall, lay down. Almost immediately, she fell asleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire and her own comfortable thoughts.29

A few minutes later, the King stood up slowly and stretched. He carried his seat back into the back room, then returned and extinguished the fire in the hearth. In the darkness, the flames seemed printed into his eyes. He blinked to clear it away and looked over at where his mat was. Then he looked over at Gwen lying peacefully in her bed, and slowly moved toward her.30

The next morning, the King was standing outside the door of the cottage when Gwen awoke. She kicked off the covers and stood up abruptly, making her slightly dizzy. She moved almost monotonically into the back room and changed into her clothing from the day before.31

Outside, she heard the deep voices of men conversing. Among them, the King’s unmistakable tone. Gwen froze for a moment, remembering. 32

Outside, the King walked down the incline for the last time. The lieutenant had his horse ready and waiting. The Captain of the Guard was sitting on his horse nearby. The other soldiers were slowly gathering along the dirt road, many of them carrying gifts of food and canteens from their hosts. Gwen hurried out her cottage, bearing no gift for the King but a strange look in her eyes, which the King understood perfectly. He smiled at her, just the same as the day before, except the smile communicated a secret with Gwen. To her own surprise, she smiled back.33

The King mounted his horse easily and said in a carrying voice, “Form ranks!” The rambling soldiers immediately became alert and formed their lines. The few officers there were moved among them making sure the men were in proper order. The King issued a new command. “Turn about! Move north!” The soldiers began to march. The lieutenant followed behind them. The Captain of the Guard moved down the road a bit but stopped and waited patiently for the King. 34

Gwen looked up at the man, towering over her now on his horse. Without any preparations, she curtsied for him. “Your Majesty…May you have a safe journey.”35

The King, in a sudden show of nervousness, bit his lip. “And may you have a content life.” He turned his horse to face the distancing soldiers, then turned back to look at Gwen. “Thank you again for your kind hospitality. I…will return,” he added, and Gwen nodded, satisfied. The King gave her one last solemn smile. 36

“Brennik…” He whispered the village’s name to himself as he heard Gwen moving back up the path to her cottage. “Good luck, Gwen,” he added quietly, and galloped his horse away after his men.37