The Royal Heir
Long ago and far away there lived a good king and queen who reigned over the land of Pleasantree. Their kingdom lived up to its name as its monarchs treated their subjects with fairness and kindness. The fame of the realm spread far and wide.
King Clarence and his wife, Amara, loved one another dearly and longed for an heir to their throne. But, alas, as the years passed and they had no child, they sought the counsel of their royal physicians, but to no avail. This left the king’s brother’s son, Aemilator, as next in line to be king.
Aemilator relished his standing and when each year passed and the queen bore no child, became more assured that one day he would be king. However, this Royal Nephew, long on ambition, was short on the qualities that made King Clarence and Queen Amara so beloved by their subjects. He perceived his uncle’s and aunt’s kindness as weakness and longed for the day when he could rule with an iron hand.
And so, time went on until one day Amara strolled through the royal forest accompanied by her maids in waiting. They came upon an old woman dressed in rags who called out her plight. “Oh, your Highness. I was once a lady of wealth, myself, but misfortune has befallen me until you see me as I am. I beg of you for some money so I can buy something better than roots and herbs to eat.”
The queen’s attendants attempted to shoo the beggar away, but she persisted. “Please, just enough for a decent meal.” Her voice resonated in Amara’s ears.
And, her plight resonated in the queen’s heart. “Come with us,” she said to her attendants’ dismay. “Come to the palace where you shall sit with me at the king’s table after we replace your rags with clothing suitable for court, of course.”
The old woman smiled broadly. “You would have me eat at the king’s table and exchange my rags for fine clothes?”
Amara smiled. “Why certainly. And not for just one meal. You will have a place in the palace for as long as you have need.”
At this the old woman began to glow and transformed into a beautiful fairy. “Queen Amara,” she said while touching her highness with a willow wand. “I had heard of your kindness, but not until I saw it now could I trust all that has been said of you. Your actions are proof of your worthiness. By this time next year, you will have what you have so longed for.”
The following spring Amara bore a son whom the king named Herrick, for he would be heir to the throne. The citizens of Pleasantree rejoiced on behalf of their monarchs, but also for themselves because they no longer had the prospect of the reign of Aemilator whom most detested. All seemed right in the land.
But the Royal Nephew, as you would expect, brooded over this turn of events. He rued the day the of the prince’s birth to the point of despair. But he saw no way to get rid of the child.
However, even in a land as pleasant as this one, there can be found those others that are discontent. One day in a tavern, a vagabond approached the displaced heir. “Royal Nephew,” the scoundrel began, “why are you so cast down? There is nothing that can’t be set right when the best minds are set to it. I expect you want to be king, as I would like to be rich, but a royal child stands in the way. What if there were no child?”
Having almost drinking himself into oblivion, Aemilator roused himself from an oncoming stupor. His eyes opened wide. “How can this be? The child lives and I have been displaced and I do not dare to lay my hand against him.”
The rogue’s eyes widened. “Nor do I, but with enough gold, I can find someone who will.”
And so, the conspiracy became set, and in the still of a night in late August, the child’s nurse carried the child to a little-used door in the castle wall where she handed the royal heir off to a woodsman who bore the lad in a basket to the forest. The knave had orders to slay the child but with his knife raised, he found he could not. And so, he ran away, leaving the baby at the mercy of the denizens of the woods.
The fairy of those parts knew all that transpired under her woods. She took pity on the child and spoke to the chief of the wolves. “Take this man-cub and protect him as one of your own and there will always be fresh game in your den. I will give you the gift of human speech and you are to speak that with the boy because someday he must rejoin his own kind.” The chief wolf did as asked.
When the child reached six years of age the fairy returned to the chief wolf. “There is an old man and his wife that live on the edge of this forest. Bring the child to them so they can teach him the ways of men. The chief wolf did so, and the boy came to live with the elderly couple. However, he never forgot the creatures of the forest that had nurtured him and often roamed about with them among the trees.
One day as the lad, who had now grown into a man, wandered the forest with his wolf family, there came the cry of a human voice. When he and the pack reached the source of the sound they discovered a maiden all alone. She sat against a boulder with her head cradled in her arms resting upon it. She eyed the pack of wolves and cringed but drew comfort at the sight of the young man among them. “Oh, man of the forest. What will you and these beasts do with me? Will you help or put an end to me? An invading army has come from the north and attacked our land. I fled to these woods and now am at the mercy of wild beasts and have no knowledge as to how to leave these trees.”
The young man took pity and reached out to the lass. “You need not fear me nor my family for these wolves are my kin. Come with us to our home. You will not be harmed as long as you are with me. But as for leading you out of the forest, if I lead you out of this forest, where would you go if your land is under attack as you say? Tell me more.”
The maid commenced with her story. She came from Pleasantree which was a pleasant country no longer. Its kindly king had died and since his only heir had been lost, his nephew had become ruler in his place. The new monarch, King Aemilitor, showed little of his uncle’s grace and soon lost the love of his subjects. He taxed them heavily and when it proved they could give no more he sought greater wealth through war. This became his undoing for he was slain in battle. Now his enemies attacked in force overrunning the once happy kingdom whose leaderless army scattered and hid. The girl wept. “Oh, if only we had a king to rally our troops and drive our enemies away.”
As she lowered her head, the fairy of the forest appeared in a ball of light. “Oh, but the rightful king of Pleasantree is here.” She pointed her willow wand at the lad who shrank back at the statement.
“Me? I’m only a son of the forest,” the young man said. “And I lead no army.”
“Ah,” said the fairy, “But you are the king, now that your father is gone. You are Prince Herrick, abandoned these many years ago, and who would have guessed that you are the warrior king your name suggests.”
The chief of the wolves stepped up. “Oh, fairy of this forest. You have kept your word to us wolves. We have cared for this man-cub, and you have provided us with plenty of game. Now let us do more than you ask. We will be the king’s army.” And with this, he howled louder than anyone ever heard before or since. Thousands of wolf voices rang through the forest.
The following great battle is recorded in the annals of Pleasantree. A great warrior arrived with an army of wolves and swept away the invaders of the kingdom. Soldiers of the land who had fled from their foes rallied behind the wolves and soon the country became free from its oppressors. Queen Amara still lived and came out to greet the leader of the wolves. She identified him as her long lost son and identified him by a birthmark on his left ear. “Herrick, I so thought you were gone forever. Alas, that your father could not see your return. But now you have come and in such a timely fashion. Can anyone deny you are our rightful king?”
And so, Herrick became king in his father’s stead. Memory of the royal usurper faded as did the scars of war. Nothing is known for certain of the conspirators that had taken him from the palace except it is the opinion of most that they each came to untimely ends.
The royal heir took the maid he had found in the forest as his bride, and they ruled as kindly and fairly as did his parents before him. The kingdom of Pleasantree once again lived up to its name.