Two beautiful stories magically intertwined into a delightful read written by Natalie!
Long ago, in the days when eating locusts was the delicacy, and riding horses was the fad, a princess galloped swiftly over a seemingly never-ending blanket of sharp needles. She lifted her head high, and carried a small two-edged sword. Flowing from her beautiful face were softer than honey ringlets. Clucking her lips, the horse cantered across the wide forest, as the trees magnificently towered over her.
"Sir," she said with anxiety as she approached the castle, "am I too late?"
The man looked down at her, with dark brown eyes and a gentle grin. "You, my dear princess, are never too late. Go at once!"
The girl fluttered down the steps and back onto her horse, then swiftly rode away.
"Good dady, squire!" a jolly young man walked up the stone steps of the castle. "Any more locusts left for me, good sir?"
His companion, Jonathan, looked on with glee, and nodded.
"Oh, these are mighty fine!" the jolly man said, smacking his lips. "It's sure good to be home."
Jonathan grinned, "Indeed, Matthias!"
"Well, I better be going. I'm going to Cancelot's courtyard. An aqcuantince of mine shall be there. Bye," Matthias waved. "Thank you, dear man, for the locusts. They were simply marvelous."
"Anytime, my boy, anytime," came the happy reply.
Then, as soon as the boy vanished, Jonathan sat with gloomy eyes. He tossed away the locust-filled plate, and wept.
"Are you sure you have not heard from him?" Henry asked, his eyes filled with worry.
"No," George said.
Trying to sound brave, he whispered in t he lowest tone, "I will go try to find my son. I'll do everything I can!"
Henry, who sported a deep purple shirt with a dark blue robe hurried down the valley to search. Just as he entered the dark, sorrowful valley of trees, he stared down.
"Matthias, is that you?" Henry asked quietly.
The only reply was a deep moan from Matthias' dying body, then a heavy sigh, and there was no more.
"He's dead!" Henry wailed, "My own son - dead! Who would do such a thing?"
"I did it," Jonathan said, riding up towards Henry. "I killed him."
"Yes, I did it. I poisoned him to death. You do not understand, Henry. I had to," Jonathan said chalkly.
"HAD TO?!" Henry roared in a fury.
"Yes," Jonathan quacked, "someone paid me to do it."
"Who would do such a thing?" Henry said.
With that, Jonathan mounted his appaloosa horse, and rode off deep into the night.
Several weeks later...
The cold stars shone down on the ground as Henry trotted along the spot where his son had died shortly before.
"God, why do this to me?" he asked in pain.
There was no reply, except for the lush waves of the ocean. Suddenly Henry could hear horses' hooves, and they were coming faster - much faster.
"Henry, there is a battle to be fought!" George galloped up and dismounted. "The Charlottes are headed our way."
"Send the men to the watch towers," Henry instructed, "and the soldiers to the grounds. I'll be there shortly."
But without warning, a trumpet sounded, and before Henry knew it, the war had begun.
"Who are you?" a crisp voice shot.
"My name," the reply came, "is Emily."
"Emily, eh?" the man asked, stroking his long beard.
The girl nodded her head. "I am not too late, he said. But it has taken me weeks to arrive. I'm afraid this was in vain," she wept. "Do what you wish, but make it quick."
The dark man strode towards her, then stepped back. "Fine, if you say," he darted towards his rope, then, tying her up, thrust her into the glassy blue sea.
. . . . . .
Meanwhile, at the castle, preparations were made ready and worry brewed.
"Sir, the Charlottes are closing in. I'm afraid - afraid we'll..." George continued.
Henry darted back, "Afraid of what? Go on."
"I'm afraid that we'll lose," George confessed wearily.
Henry's brow rose in fury, then settled. He turned his horse, and rode off. There was work to be done. and it must be done fast. Very, very fast.
\\ To be continued. \\