19. Bourengard; the Prince and the Divination

There was once a kingdom in a land far away, ruled by generations of the mightiest rulers there were at that time with unspeakable wealth bestowed to the kingdom. But as it was destined for any day to be followed by night time, the wealthy kingdom along with the mighty rulers had fallen into the depth of despair, putting the blame on their sordidness. Their greed had sparked such terrifying flame of terror throughout the land, so terrifying that the tale had lived through the test of time and had been passed from generations to generations. Even so, on the outskirts of the castle wall, there were still folks who still believed that the kingdom would one day be ruled by a ruler even more magnificent than the kingdom ever had. Those were the People of Divination, they were said to supposedly have the gift of foretelling the future and were the ones responsible to foresee the downfall of the kingdom.

It had been foretold by the People of Divination that Bourengard would claim its glory once again when the heir to the throne; fair to the nature, endowed by all the grace there were in the land and adorned with golden hair was born. Naturally, the rest of the Bourengard paid no regard to the seeings of the People of Divination, for one matter, the people of Bourengard had long ago disregard any divination offered to them. Another matter, they simply have grown too weak to hope for such heir to be born and restore the kingdom's glory simply because for centuries, the kings who sat on the throne of Bourengard were all tall, dark and handsome with locks as dark as the night. Hence, when a prince of fair skin and golden locks was born, the only logical reaction to be expected was an uproar from all over the land.

The prince was celebrated like never before in decades of the forlorn kingdom. All of the streets were lit up and the gate to the castle was opened for the public and just like that, once again joy and music filled the air of Bourengard and the joy continued for several more years. The prince of Bourengard grew beautifully into a man befitting of the foretold seeing and the crowds were finally at ease. However, deep in the castle's Court of Council, there was a rather discomforting silence uttering a concern in unison. Nothing had given the Court of Council relief more than the glimpse of hope the birth of the prince had given them, but nothing had taken off their concern of the divination was all but a farce until the fair prince had proven himself worthy of the throne. Thus, on that fateful night, exactly fifteen years after the prince was born and extensively celebrated, the council met and arrived upon a unanimous decision; the prince was to be set out to prove his worthiness by bringing his own set of Court of Council, and upon his return with the new ensemble, the current Council would assume resignation, marking the beginning of the prince's reign as King of Bourengard.

If Bourengard was slightly like any typical kingdom at that time, assembling one's own Council would not be at all a challenging task to be done, and it would not be effective to test one's worthiness to assume the role of a king, much less a king who was destined to restore the glory of his forlorn kingdom. But Bourengard was different, its downfall had not just marked the failure of the kings to maintain their mighty reigns but also torn the people apart. Although the birth of the prince brought joy among the people, the presence of the bitterness and shallowly buried anger had been undeniable. People of Bourengard, with the exception of the people of Divination were still living with a begrudging crestfallen despair, even more towards the people of different cities and villages than the nobilities, and the prince knew that perfectly well, which was why it made perfect sense to him to approach the people of Divination first to look for his first eligible Council member.

‘You would do well to listen to the words your mother will have to say to you, son,’ the King said solemnly to his youngest son. His dark skin was so in contrast against the prince’s fair one as he graced the prince with one last hug before the prince’s departure.

The prince bowed before the King and made his way to the Queen, staring longingly into her brilliant green eyes and mustered every fiber in his being to fight off any tears that threatened to fall. He then took his time to reach for her outstretched arms and faltered for a moment when he felt her fingers ran through his hair.

‘Be brave, my dear boy,’ the Queen whispered to the prince. ‘Be brave, as brave as the Kings of Bourengard should. Be chivalrous as a gentleman should and be gracious to the nature as you should,’ she looked into his eyes with such intensity he could not dare to defy her. ‘But more importantly, be true to yourself as any man should.’

Thus onwards marked the beginning of the prince’s journey to prove his worthiness, crossing the field of Bourengard towards the small town of Orion, where the people of Divination lived with no one but his manservant to keep him company. They were both received fairly by the townspeople and even the manservant was regarded as a nobility. ‘I wish to seek the consult of your leader, if you please,’ he had said over dinner to the attending maid that night. He was later met with the host of his stay and was told go Robinson’s Hut as only few people in the town dared to go there.

‘Should we wait for the dawn to break before we head out, my Lord?’ the manservant asked when he saw the young prince was hasty in collecting his belongings and headed for his stallion.

‘No, Jack. The sooner we are to arrive at Robinson’s Hut, the better,’ he said as he mounted his stallion. ‘What could possibly go wrong? It’s just a hut at the outskirts of town, and it’s just dark outside. Brock here won’t fail us, would you, Brock?’ he added as he brushed the mane of his stallion before galloping away out of the town.

Jack followed closely behind dutifully while looking around frequently for any signs of danger. It was not much of use, for the path to the Robinson’s Hut was a lined by thick, tall trees which leaves hid away the moonlight, making the already dark night even darker and impossible for any of them to see through their way. Even Brock was stepping more slowly the deeper the got into the woods. Jack was about to comment on how lost they had been when suddenly a howl broke the silence of the forest. He ushered his horse closer to the prince and once again stopped from saying anything when a second howl was heard through the already dead silence. ‘My Lord,’ he whispered, only to be replied by a brisk hush from the prince, who then signaled him to draw out his sword and raise his guard up.

The horse and the stallion circled each other back to back in look out for the possible approaching danger. But as fate would have it, a pack of wolves pounced through the bushes and surrounded them. The wolves were not terrifyingly big nor were they in large number, but they were enough to outnumber the prince and his manservant and left them paralyzed in fear that the only luck they had was wounding the wolves by aimlessly swinging their swords respectively. The panic-stricken prince considered his survival rate before the enraged wolves became more dangerous and stroke them both and he sorely lamented his boast when all of the sudden arrows came flying from out of nowhere, given that it was too dark to see who were shooting the arrows.

Just like that, the prince and his manservant were no longer the target of assault of the wolves. The prince saw silhouettes of men came barging from everywhere around the woods attacking the wolves. ‘They were fighting off the wolves,’ he thought to himself and some part deep inside of him mocked him for his incompetency as a royalty to sever even a single wolf despite of his bloodline’s legacy. He simply was not going to have any of this nonsense casted down upon him, so he tightened his grip on his sword and launched Brock towards the group of fighting people when just as sudden he felt a tip of something sharp pressed against his cheek.

‘Don’t.’ said the voice, ever so commanding that it froze the prince for a moment. ‘You have been stupid enough to wander aimlessly here, nobleman. Don’t be any stupider than to help the bandits to rob you.’

‘I’m heading to Robinson’s Hut,’ he did not know what made him told the unknown person such a thing, perhaps it was the chaotic atmosphere clouded his better judgement. ‘I reckon I got lost,’

‘That’s another stupid thing to do, telling off where you’re going and whatnot.’ the voice mocked the prince. ‘The Hut’s not far north from here, go now before they pay any attention to you.’ with that said, the sharpness on his cheek was gone and he was left dumbfounded until Jack nudged Brock by the midsection, causing both the stallion and the prince to startle before continuing to ride into the dark night.

When they finally arrived at Robinson’s Hut, Jack and the prince finally understood why few people from Orion dared to come. The Hut was a ghastly sight to behold and the surrounding was grotesque in every way possible. There could not been anyone in their right mind who wishes to casually take a walk or even do anything for that matter there. The Hut was surrounded by forsaken swamp and covered by stench air and there was mist to blind anyone’s sight, a place enough to keep anything alive out of the way. Yet, the prince could see the lit window from across the swamp which had encouraged him to approach the miserable looking hut however dreadful the thought was.

‘Prince Anthony of Bourengard, I thought I see you making your way here among the stars,’ a woman with skin as fair as his and hair as golden as his greeted him at the door before he even raised his hand to knock. ‘Come in, with those beads of sweats on your forehead, I suppose you had a rather eventful trip here?’ she inquired as she ushered them into the hut, which was tremendously misleading given by the miserable exterior. The interior of the hut was nothing at all befitting to the size and condition of what anyone would see from the outside, it was extensively spacious and decorated glamorously to be a hut, to be correct, it was a home in disguise. The woman led them to what it seemed like a dining room with a table and chairs enough to serve a hunting party. ‘You know, the trees had told me that you, sire, is out looking for your own Council,’ she said as she poured them some tea. ‘I must say, I was wondering what was the deal with a prince such as your age going out alone finding a council of his own and when I learned that you are on your way here, oh well, can you imagine how intrigued am I?’ she exclaimed.

‘Yes, on that matter, I wish to speak to the leader of the people of Divination, and they sent me here to consult with Robinson,’ Anthony said, wondering how could anyone would be capable of such magic or trickery as to steer any unwanted visitor by such ways.

‘Yes, yes, of course. Always Robinson for consultation,’ she waved the thought as if it was the least important thing to talk about at the moment and turned her attention to Jack. ‘You are the manservant, I suppose?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Jack nodded and continued to sip his tea.

‘That’s a lovely locket you’ve got there,’ she said pointedly to Jack. ‘Almost too lovely for a manservant,’ she added.

‘My family used to be noblemen, before…’ Jack’s voice trailed as he clutched on his locket and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘So the downfall costed your family’s wealth and freedom, too?’ Anthony’s voice grew somber.

‘Oh, pish-posh, your Majesty, the only ones who had not been affected by the downfall were the royalties,’ she said casually like she was telling it was the most natural thing to happen every day. ‘You have a long journey waiting ahead of your, sire, you best make sure you are fully well for all that’s coming your way.’ she rose from her seat and went up the stairs, making no regards for them to follow her, so they stayed there, sipping more of the tea and before long, she came down from the stairs with a locket similar to Jack’s in her hand.

‘The locket, it looks awful lot like mine!’ Jack exclaimed.

‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ she gestured for the locket hung around Jack’s neck to be handed to her. Jack handed her the locket and she closely compared it to hers. A look of relief and satisfaction was shown on her face when she handed back Jack his locket. ‘These are not mere lockets, boy,’ she said with such bitterness in her voice that it made both Anthony and Jack trembled with guilt they did not know existed in them. ‘These are the crests of Councils. Your family and mine had once been in a service of the Court of Council, and it was long before the downfall, too,’ she explained.

‘You’re meaning to say that you are the Robinson, the host of Robinson’s Hut that few people dared to venture to?’

‘How is that surprising to you?’ she asked the prince as if he was out of his mind. ‘I cannot say if this crest will symbolize anything regarding your quest to assemble your Council, young prince,’ she said as she settled on a seat. ‘But, I can say that you have found your first Council,’ she stated.

‘Thank you, Bourengard would be lucky to have you in its Court of Council,’ Anthony said.

‘I cannot believe how many times you could be so wrong, your Majesty, and I don’t dare to wonder how many more times you will be wrong before you get to finally be right,’ she casted him a hopeless look. ‘He is your first Council,’ she pointed at Jack. ‘Oh, come now, don’t look so shocked. Surely, one of you have figured it out all along, now, don’t you?’ she snapped her finger and pounded her fists against the table, rattling the teacups and knocking both of the prince and the manservant off their shock. ‘Now, something tells me that you two owed me the telling of your adventure here,’ she got up and fixed them more tea and biscuits that it was impossible for them not to think that she was indeed another version of Bourengard’s tea party enthusiast.

‘Come to think of it, why would anyone roam the woods, anyway?’ Jack said when Anthony finished telling Robinson the story their trip.

‘Easier to prey on unsuspecting young princes and their manservants who know no better than to avoid woods in the dark night,’ she replied. ‘So, you’ve met Alice,’ she said with her eyes gleamed brightly than it should.

‘Curious and curiouser,’ Jack muttered.

‘Alice?’

‘Alice of Cottondale, now, she will do you a great deal to be in your Council, sire,’ she said. ‘Will you do yourselves a favour and spend the night here?’ she asked. ‘You’re both very, very young and it would be very, very pitiful if anything more happens, you were both very lucky that Alice was happened to be there, but she wasn’t going to be around anytime soon, now, was she?’ she said.

‘Very well, then. We’ll set out in the morning,’ Anthony decided.

Hence, that night was spent to recover from their adventure and Anthony wondered to himself if it was wise to recruit a stranger who tried to cut open his face earlier into his council. Then again, without said stranger’s brusque help, he would not arrived and found his first Council. Jack. Never had it occurred to him before that his manservant could be his Council, perhaps Jack had to prove himself worthy as well before he was to be officially entitled as a Council. Then again, was it not Jack who advised him against travelling in the middle of the night in haste before? If only he had listened to Jack, they would not been attacked, and possibly they would have a much more secured travel in daylight. Indeed, he had too much to learn before he could prove himself worthy of a throne, or even a council. It was decided then, Prince Anthony of Bourengard would prove himself worthy of Alice of Cottondale to be in his Court of Council. Little did he know, in the other room, Robinson smiled upon the resolve that she could not help overheard through the stars.

‘You do well to be brave and courageous, your Majesty,’ she whispered to the stars as she clutched her locket tightly.