I looked at my father as he spoke, his words sounded so heavy, each one a giant boulder sinking down to the bottom of a cold dark pond. This was the story he told. I have written it down as best I can remember.
As a young man my father often traveled about his father's kingdom, so that he might see for himself all the land he would one day inherit. His parents, the Good King and Fair Queen indulged his wandering, and soon he was known as Prince Wandering. "Where did you wander today? he was often asked and he would gladly tell them. Sometimes his wandering took him to the forests on the very borders of the kingdom. In those days wandering through the forest wasn't as dangerous, but occasionally he got lost. Once he wandered so far, and got so lost he somehow ended up in the Fire Woods, and he might never have escaped if not for the help of a bright young girl he met there.
I knew this part of the story well, it was how he met my mother, and how eventually he rescued her from the clutches of a spiteful old dwarf, after guessing the dwarf's name was Jack. This time Father didn't go into details, instead of the usually familiar story and its happy ending, he continued.
Prince Wandering, he said in a soulful voice, had to give up his wandering when he inherited the crown of the kingdom. A King doesn't go out to wander here and there, and dare not get lost in the forest. He never forgot his youthful days of wandering. He was content enough in his new life as King, happy even. The birth of two daughters pleased him, though he longed for a son that never came to be. He did his best, but true prosperity was always just out of reach, the crops often failed, or the orchards suffered blight. He couldn't tax his people very much, because they had so little themselves. He often wondered if he was a good king, like his father had been. In his heart, part of him still longed to wander. Then the cursemaker came.
Curses ravaged the land, ruining so many lives: good men became donkeys, children disappeared in the forest, animals suddenly spoke in human voices, sons turned into ravens, and daughters carried off by eagles, even the Princess fell under a curse so that she would die on her sixteenth birthday.
I might have too, if things had turned out differently, if my Aunties hadn't discovered a cure for the curse, changing it into a sleeping spell, and then I might have slept for years (not hundreds as Aunt Luna exaggerates when she tells the story). Luckily it turned out the curses were broken easily. Mine came from a kiss. In truth it didn't have to even be a kiss. What really mattered was the true affection, just the touch of someone who loved me. If mother and father had abandoned me, I would have slept like the dead. I was lucky, many others never broke their curses, even now killing a raven if a serious crime. Although the fear has never really left me, I can't stand the sight of a needle, or anything I might prick myself on. What if it should happen again, and this time I would not wake up?
The cursemaker was never found, although my Father and many others searched for her. Years went by, Father saw his daughters grown and sent them into the nearby kingdom to seek their fortunes and good husbands.
(I unfortunately didn't find either in the circle kingdom.)
As King, my father had his duties, and the only consolation he found was the wander in the castle gardens. Even in winter he found pleasure in it. Once, while taking a short walk he discovered a path in the garden that led him to a different place. He knew every inch of the garden, yet he saw trees and plants he'd never seen before.
to be continued . . .
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