Chapter 5

Linden was gratified when the next day at midden meal most of the conversation concerned the Avenger's artful demonstration. The King described the entire drill to Camden and Linden. Linden didn't have to pretend her rapt attention. "I'd love to meet the gallant Avenger someday and thank him personally for honoring me." She told King Wildar.

She glanced slyly at Vandar, she was hoping to see that her expressed interest in another young man had an affect on him, but she was disappointed to see he seemed to be totally unaffected by her interest in another youth.

King Wildar remarked, "Sir Klaron, if your young Friend's Family is unhappy with the lad, perhaps he would consider joining our service; he would be richly rewarded."

"Oh, I hardly think that likely, my Lord." Sir Klaron's eyes twinkled with amusement. "As I've hinted, the student is of a Royal Family. There would be a great scandal, I'm certain, if that fine youth were ever to bunk in your barracks!" Sir Klaron could not resist an amused wink in Linden's direction.

"You won't even give your old Friend some hint as to which of the neighboring countries the mystery Prince is from, Sir?" The King blustered.

Klaron sat still, he smiled, but he still refused to divulge the student's identity. "I am certain you of all people will understand I would be betraying the student's confidence if I were to tell anyone, Your Majesty."

The issue stayed at this point until a few days later, they were all seated at evenmeal. "Lord Lamdor came to see me today." King Wildar threw his tempting bait in front of Sir Klaron with a splash.

"Did he bring you the ten bags of gold you wagered, Sire?" Klaron nibbled at the enticing bait.

"Yes, he did, and I've already collected on my other bet on the side. You know, I might think the Avenger deserves a hefty portion of that fine prize himself if I were ever to meet him again." The King twitched the tasty bait.

"That's too bad." Klaron deftly dodged the hook, before King Wildar could set it. "I think our young Friend may have already returned to his own country." This was not the last time King Wildar was to bring up the mystery of the youthful Avenger of Calvar!

Even Royalty can have difficult teen years!

Linden's love for Vandar had grown as the years went by. When their mutual adolescent awkwardness caused them to draw apart, Queen Camden and Sir Klaron often comforted her. She understood in her mind the awkwardness between them was a natural process that would come full circle in time, but her heart yearned for the relaxed closeness they had enjoyed as Children.

On one occasion of the Kingdom's elders visit to court, she had watched Vandar leave for the hunt that morning from a window of her chambers and she had listened with delight and amusement to the commotion he and his wolves had caused in the kitchen on his return. She knew nothing at all about the cause of the elder's visit, the fateful results of which would soon alter all their peaceful lives.

A FATEFUL DAY

Xandar the All Knowing was in a terribly foul state of mind. The Wizard had not been seen of late, but that he was in a foul mood was evident to all the populace of Zuldar due to the inclement nature of the weather. The reason everyone connected the ancient Wizard's moods to the weather was a reasonable one. He had been controlling it throughout most of the Kingdom's recorded history.

It was an accepted fact of their lives that if it rained Xandar was unhappy, if the sun shone Xandar was happy, and if it sleeted or snowed, as it rarely did, then it was assumed that Xandar must have a slight touch of the grippe.

The elders of the villages surrounding the Castle had discussed the weather among themselves, and their being a methodical group, some among them were delegated to research the history of the weather.

As far as the elders were able to ascertain, after several sun orbits of research, Xandar had not been so out of control of the climate since he had been jilted by a comely young Witch and had let loose a Cyclone in his relative youth. That unfortunate incident had occurred in the reign of King Maldar the Flatulent over two hundred and fifty summers before.

The elder's womenfolk, who made the real decisions in the villages, had decided anyone could talk about the weather but it was about time for their men to see that something was done about it. At the womens insistence, the men sent Hundel the Flat Footed to the Castle to request an audience with King Wildar and Queen Camden.

Hundel was received at the Castle by the King's steward, Lord Kildar the Shrewd, and was told that his delegation should appear at Court the next day, promptly after midden meal.

That day, Prince Vandar was in the huge Palace kitchen partaking of his midden meal. A large portion of tender venison roast and fresh baked bread had just comfortably filled his youthful belly.

Demon, Devil, Satan, and Heller, his four wolves were attentively watching Vandar. He was thinking very fondly of them at the moment because they had all just returned from a successful elk hunt. The hunt had been productive; a large bull's heavy carcass was now cooling in the Castle larder. The Prince reached out and patted his favorite of the four, the black male he had named Demon, on the creature's hip-high broad head.

Lord Kildar the Shrewd slowly edged into the kitchen. He eyed the pack of savage wolves nervously. The wolves returned Lord Kildar's mistrust by growling menacingly, baring their long fangs, and bristling up their long fur. Kildar cautiously approached the Prince and bowed. Vandar shushed the wolves and they meekly obeyed immediately.

"Prince Vandar the Incontinent, it is the King's wish that Your Highness attend the elder's audience at the Court today. His Highness said that he considers these audiences to be an indispensable part of Your Highness's education."

Prince Vandar winced at hearing his Wizard given name. He had always felt it was a terrible injustice he had been saddled with such a humiliating Wizard given name for innocently piddling on the Wizard's leg during his naming rite. Vandar sighed wistfully. If only his momentarily inattentive nurses had fastened his swaddling clothes more securely, he might have been given a name truly worthy of a Prince.

Lord Kildar's groan of discomfort reminded Vandar that his Father's steward was still bowing. "Yes, thank you, Lord Kildar." The Prince said in dismissal. "You may convey word to Their Majesties that I will be in attendance soon."

Vandar scraped the scant remnants of his meal on to the stone floor beneath the table. The aging steward rose gratefully and straightened his back; he cautiously moved away from the Prince to avoid arousing the vicious wolves again, and backed away a judicious distance to watch the fun.

The four huge wolves, who had been waiting patiently for Vandar to finish eating, dove under the table in a race for the remaining morsels. The massive table heaved and bobbed around like a light boat in a turbulent sea. As usual, Demon was the first to reach the food. He gulped it down greedily then he turned to face the wrath of his resentful Pack mates.Vandar turned and ran lightly up the servant's stairs to the lavish living quarters above. His timely exit was accompanied by the savage snarling of the fighting wolves and the screams and threats of the kitchen staff. Vandar chuckled mischievously.

The Prince was usually a happy young man, despite the sad misfortune of his name and the heavy load of responsibility he bore as the Heir to the Throne of the Kingdom of Zuldar. He had been somewhat moodier than usual of late.

As he entered his rooms, Vandar undid his crimson Weapon Master's Sash and pulled his soiled tunic off over his head. He hurriedly washed his face and upper body at his ornate washstand then he opened the heavy oaken chest at the foot of his couch to find a fresh tunic. Vandar turned to look at his image in the Magic reflection frame that Xandar had conjured for him several years before.

The reflection frame's swirling mists cleared to show a tall, broad, blue eyed youth of sixteen summers who was swiftly approaching his manhood. He had gotten his large size and strength from his Sire. As good fortune would have it, he had inherited his handsome features from his dear Mother.

"Enough of this dallying, slackard. Their Majesties will be waiting." Vandar scolded himself. He pulled the fresh tunic over his head; he belted it with a sash holding his favorite bejeweled dagger and ceremonial sword. Vandar picked up a small crown from a table and put it on his head at a rakish angle, then with a dashing swirl he pulled his robes about his shoulders.

The Prince agilely ran down the hall. When he reached the banister that overlooked the main hall, he jumped lightly to the polished rail and ran down it as nimbly as any mountain goat. He was unmindful of the six man-heights that he would surely fall if he slipped.

Vandar lowered himself to sit facing downward on the handrail where it descended several floors and slid down as swiftly as an otter on a riverbank. He leaped off at the bottom to run through the wide halls to the Throne room entrance.

The youth abruptly changed his headlong pace to a stately walk as the silent guards opened both doors wide and Lord Kildar loudly announced his presence to the gathering inside. "Prince Vandar the Incontinent, Heir Apparent to the Throne of Zuldar."

Vandar did his best to keep from reacting visibly as he was introduced by his entire title. As it was, his consternation caused him to trip on the hem of his robe like a clumsy oaf and he almost fell.

His eyes quickly sought for and found those of Princess Linden the Ever Lovely, and he saw she had demurely averted her gaze. She was smiling sweetly as if amused. She must think me a dreadfully clumsy fool, the embarrassed Prince thought miserably.

Linden had groomed and dressed herself carefully, and made her early entrance intentionally, the ever-vigilant Klaron had joined her. She had been missing Vandar so much lately she had yearned to see him enter the Court. She thought her poor heart would melt when he did enter and when he stumbled she had to avert her gaze and hold herself to keep from rushing to him!

Linden had seen his flawless footwork when practicing his swordplay and had often spied on him when he ran down the railing of the upper balcony so she knew he was as agile as any mountain goat. Of course, her own poor heart nearly stopped whenever she saw her love do anything daring!

Linden was seated in her throne to the left of the King's and Queen's. Though he felt he had been grossly humiliated by his clumsiness, Vandar was glad to see he had at least reached the throne room before his Parents. He took his customary place to the King's right and was seated. His gaze was irresistibly drawn back to Linden's intriguing face and form like a moth to a fatal flame.

She sat regally at ease on her own bejeweled Throne of Calvar. She was wearing a beautifully brocaded gown; her long auburn hair was intricately braided and wrapped in wire of precious metals and jewels.

To Vandar, the brilliance of the flawless gems was dim in comparison to the sparkling of her own large brown eyes. A priceless tiara glistened atop her head and a matching diamond pendant dangled in the cleavage between her budding breasts.

The Prince's ears and cheeks reddened as he found himself, once again, dwelling on the flawless smoothness and inviting roundness of the small breasts surrounding Linden's diamond pendant. He tried to concentrate instead on the overall picture of serenity and beauty she exemplified. Vandar remembered that even as a three-year-old, newly orphaned Babe, Linden had looked and acted every bit of a Royal Princess.

Linden, in almost exact contrast to Vandar's thoughts, was feeling very self-conscious about her appearance. She was smaller busted than most of the girls her own age. This was only natural considering her spartan training schedule, which kept her fat layer to a minimum and had delayed her maturation.