The Return

The river ran backwards on the day the queen vanished. Salmon, previously swimming against the current to spawn, confused, turned and swam the other way. In the bright forest, leaves drifted upwards, eddied by small currents of wind as startled deer, squirrel, and other wildlife froze in place, lifting noses or beaks in an effort to sniff out the source of danger. Furred, tufted, and feathered ears tilted to listen. Almost as one, thousands of eyes turned toward the hill where sat Castle Cardomom.

Spear clutched tight in leather wrapped fist, razor sharp sword sheathed at his side, Sir Virgil was standing in his normal place behind and to the right of the gilded throne when it happened. Newly promoted to the position of Personal Protector to the queen, Sir Virgil took his duty seriously. His vigilant eyes had been scanning the packed audience room milling with courtiers and supplicants vying for royal attention, on the lookout for any possible source of danger to the young queen. He missed the moment it happened.

A sudden hue and cry arose in the room, starting from those nearest the raised dais and rapidly expanding through the milling crowd. What the heck? Sir Virgil stepped toward the throne, raising his spear protectively, only to realize there was no one there to protect. Despite his confusion and fear he he shouted “Seal the doors!”

Guards positioned near the huge wooden audience hall doors sprang into action. Quickly the ten foot high iron banded doors were slammed shut, a huge cross bar thunking into place. A pair of well built, steel clad guards placed themselves in front of the doors, spears held diagonally across their chests. They surveyed the milling crowd, alert for the slightest hint of violence.

As the cacophony of noise coming from the frightened and confused crowd of nobles, land owners, and servants began to grow to a roar a strong voice called out. “QUIET!” yelled Sir Virgil.

When the milling crowd had settled a bit and he could hear himself think, Sir Virgil turned to those nearest the dais. “Did anyone see anything?” Behind him, where no one should be, a silken voice responded, “I did.”

Sir Virgil spun around, spear coming to guard position. Seeing a tall, thin, man there, he jerked the bottom of his spear forward in an attempt to strike the stranger across the side of his head. Despite Sir Virgil’s well honed reflexes and youthful speed, the stranger negligently waved a hand. The spear disintegrated an inch from the man’s head. Sir Virgil, committed to the strike was taken by complete surprise. Expecting an impact which did not come, he spun too far and almost stumbled over his own feet. Jerking back to face the apparent source of danger he dropped a hand to the pommel of his sword.

“Hold, sir knight.” The tall stranger held a hand up, palm outward, The fingers were long and narrow. The very air hardened around the young knight, holding him in place.

Sir Virgil found himself unable to move. Grunting with effort he willed his unresponsive body to move, strike…, to no avail. He may as well have been chained in place. Raising his eyes he looked at the apparition. The stranger was tall, surely over six feet, willowy thin body clothed in a forest green flowing robe with expansive sleeves billowing. A hood was thrown back revealing a handsome face. A thin nose and full red lips sat above a wide cleft jaw. Baby smooth cheeks showed no sign of any type of hair growth. This was a face that had never needed to feel the touch of a shaving razor. The man’s eyes, which tilted upwards at an odd angle, were a startling blue under dark eyebrows. Ears tapering to barely blunted points poked out from midnight dark shoulder length hair. A narrow silver circlet of leaves and vines encircled the man’s head, holding back his locks.

“It is the day,” the man said.

Feeling the paralysis drop from his limbs as the stranger dropped his hand, Sir Virgil straightened. “What day is that stranger? And what have you done with Queen Veronesia? Tell me or suffer the consequences.”

“Ask Master Dunnigan Sir Knight. I believe that will be him now.”

A loud booming noise rang throughout the hall as someone slammed something solid against the doors from the other side. The cross bar, solid oak two by two feet and twelve feet in length, splintered in the center. The doors swung open as the guards scrambled to the side to avoid being smashed into the solid stone walls. Framed in the opening was a wild eyed man of indeterminate years in a flapping gray robe. Clutched in the man’s left hand was a gnarled staff topped with a large ruby red gem which shone with an internal light.

Three hundred pairs of eyes turned to the door, then back to the raised dais. A susurrus swept the hall as petitioners and hangers-on whispered frightened murmurs. Was there to be a magical confrontation? Persons, high born and low alike, scrambled to get out of the way. A path opened from the door to the dais.

“Prince Milliver,” the sorcerer said, lowering his head in a nod of respect. “I have been expecting you.”

A swarthy skinned black clad youth of about twelve summers appeared behind Master Dunnigan. Tentatively the boy cleared his throat. Failing to get the sorcerer’s attention, the boy reached out a shaking hand and tugged on Master Dunnigan’s robe. The sorcerer glanced down momentarily before returning his gaze to the dais. “Yes Felipe?” he queried.

“Uhm, Master, it’s true.”

“What’s true boy?”

“The river, it’s running backwards. Flowing uphill even.”

Lowering his staff, Master Dunnigan straightened. “I feared as much. The day is upon us. I pray we can live through it.”

Sir Virgil looked between the menacing stranger and the court sorcerer. The stranger, Prince Milliver apparently, was a sea of calm in the midst of a tempest. Prince of what? he wondered. The man did not appear truly human. “What’s that about the river? Master Dunnigan, can you explain what is happening?”

The sorcerer strode through the open aisle, not bothering to glance at the throngs of frightened people to each side. Reaching the base of the dais he looked at the fae prince who nodded. He turned to Sir Virgil.

“The Covenant.”

“Covenant? The old story about the fae returning to claim this land? That’s but a child’s tale.”

“Not a child’s tale Sir Virgil. A promise. When man came to the land of Vardonelle they found it occupied by powerful fae creatures. Mankind had cold iron weapons which could pierce the skin of the fae bringing death to almost immortal beings. The fae were possessed of strong magics and the ability to wield nature as a weapon. The war for dominance was bloody and long. Many thousands died on both sides with no end in sight. Rivers ran red with blood. Finally, in the 5th age of Erlond, King Gregor, sick of the attrition and bloodshed, sent envoys to treat with the fae queen. A bargain was struck to end the war.”

Sir Virgil, but twenty-six summers old - the youngest ever to receive the title of Personal Protector - gripped the pommel of his sword, knuckles white with tension. It took all of his discipline and training to remain outwardly calm. “So the tale is true? The foretold day has come?”

“Yes, Sir Virgil. The bargain was struck and sealed in blood of both King Gregor and Queen Flourina. The fae would leave this land for the span of one hundred generations, leaving it to the ministration of mankind. On the day of summer solstice at the appointed time of noon nature would reverse course. When the river ran backwards it would bring with it the fae queen and her retinue. The human ruler of the time would be transported to the fae realm where she would be treated as an honored guest until fae rule was once again established.”

“Fae rule? And what happens to us at this time?”

The fae prince stepped forward. “Mankind will be allowed to live amongst the fae in partnership so long as no man raises weapon against the fae. There is no reason we cannot live in peace and learn from each other so long as man can repress his violent nature.” The fae prince stepped forward. “I am Prince Milliver, eldest son of Queen Flourina of the fae, rightful ruler of the lands of Vardonelle. True to our word we have left mankind to it’s vices here for the span of a hundred generations. We return now to reclaim this land for it’s rightful owners.”

A murmur started in the room, quickly growing to a roar as shocked nobles and lords shouted their consternation. “Peace!’ the fae prince said. His voice, although low in volume, was carried by the air to every ear in the room. “It is my mother’s wish that fae and humans set up a system of cogovernorship of this land. All will be treated fairly and with justice.”

“What of our lands and titles?” yelled Lord Tonsur. “I am a baron whose family is possessed of a fief which we have ruled under the guidance of the royal family for fifty generations.” Other voices rang out in similar declarations.

“Cease!” rang out the fae prince’s voice. “All your questions will be answered. A council will be set up consisting of both fae and human to delegate the rules by which this land shall henceforth be ruled. However, at this time, we must needs prepare to welcome home Queen Flourina.”

“Uhm. Sir Virgil…, Master Dunnigan?”

Turning to the doors, the two espied the heavyset harbor master standing there wringing his hat in nervous hands.

“Yes, Master Harden?” queried the sorcerer.

“Uhm, your lordships, there’s a ship approaching the harbor like none I’ve seen before.”

“That, I assume, will be Queen Flourina and her retinue,” Master Dunnigan replied with a sigh. “Sir Virgil, I recommend you gather an honor guard to greet her.” Turning to the shaken harbor master he smiled. “Thank you Master Harden. Please prepare an appropriate dock for the royal visitor.”

Bowing deeply the harbor master backed from the room, turned, and ran back toward the castle exit.

Sir Virgil turned to the fae prince. “With your leave,” he said through gritted teeth.

“By all means Sir Virgil.”

Turning to the confused spectators, Sir Virgil issued commands. “My lords, please return to your estates and await messengers. You there,” he said to a servant standing nearby, “tell the head cook to prepare a feast for a royal visitation. Heavy on the vegetables, I assume,” he said wryly, receiving a nod in acknowledgment from the royal interloper. The servant, eyes rolling wildly, ducked his head in acquiescence and hurried from the hall, followed by a stream of frightened nobles.

Turning to the stranger standing by the throne, Sir Virgil looked the menacing fae magicker in the eyes. “You will provide me proof of Queen Veronesia’s continued health when I return.” The fae prince nodded in respectful acknowledgment. Meeting Master Dunnigan’s gaze the young knight said, “We will be having a long talk later.”

“I’m sure we shall my dear boy,” the sorcerer replied.

“Guards, form up on me.” Followed by two lines of steel clad knights, spears held erect, Sir Virgil, Personal Protector to Queen Veronesia Kilndred, marched from the audience hall to greet Queen Flourina of the fae. He wondered what this day would bring. Peace? War? Either way he was utterly determined to see Queen Veronesia returned to her throne if it was the last thing he ever did.

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Here ends the beginning of our tale.

As a lifelong reader of fantasy, sci-fi and sword and sorcerery tales it is my true hope that my fellow lovers of the same will enjoy the tale above. As per the challenge rules the story is merely the opening of a tale that could lead in many directions. If you enjoy it, please comment and like. Thank you all for reading.

Andrew C. McDonald