Princess Maya
Chapter 1
As soon as they heard the horns, the King of Bellicia’s three children knew they were in trouble.
Prince Soren was in the kitchens, stirring a bowl of gravy and hoping no one had noticed him, when he heard the familiar horns that announced the beginning of his father’s banquet. Tonight’s banquet was very important. It was the hundredth anniversary of the King’s grandfather’s defeat of Acerbia, a neighboring country, in a battle that had ascertained Bellicia as an independent kingdom. The King was using this occasion to show off to everyone important in all of the surrounding countries, and if Soren and his siblings weren’t in attendance, there would be hell to pay. Hurriedly he tried to escape, but the head chef grabbed him before he had even taken off his chef’s hat. “You! Boy!” he cried, grabbing the gravy out of Soren’s hands. “What are you doing, leaving when we’re about to serve the food? You stupid fool; this is the most important banquet of the year!”
“I know,” said Soren, trying to stay calm. “That’s why I have to go. My father’s expecting me.”
The head chef was so surprised he dropped the gravy, spilling it down Soren’s front.
“Your Highness! What in the name of Bellicia are you doing down here?”
His question was never answered, for Soren was already gone.
Princess Maya, returning from a ride in the woods with her best friend William, was already thundering down the palace lawn when she heard the distant sound of her father’s horns. “Faster!” she urged her horse, her fingers tangled in its mane. The horse obliged, splattering Maya’s dress with mud as it galloped at breakneck speed. As soon as they reached the stables, Maya dismounted and ran as fast as she could into the palace, leaving the horse for someone else to take care of. Her gown was dripping with mud, her hair was covered in sticks and leaves, and she had completely forgotten to clean her teeth. Father’s going to kill me, she thought miserably.
Prince Nathaniel was the only one of the three who made it to the Great Hall on time, though not in the way his father expected. He had secretly joined the palace dancers a few months beforehand, and it was with them that he entered the Hall. He knew his father would be angry if he knew that his son and heir wanted to be a dancer, but he was sure his father wouldn’t recognize him- mainly because he, like all the other dancers, was dressed as a peacock. Nathaniel grinned under his mask and tried to look birdlike.
The King of Bellicia sat at the High Table, his expression even stormier than normal. “Sir Francis?” he said, glaring at the advisor on his left. “Where are my children?”
“I know not, my lord,” said Sir Francis nervously. He glanced up at the King’s face and immediately wished he hadn’t. His Majesty looked ready to impale him.
“Lord Alexander?” said the King, turning to glare at the advisor on his right. “Have you any idea where my children could be?”
“Not a clue, Your Majesty,” said Lord Alexander, staring resolutely at a dancer across the room rather than make eye contact with the famously hot-tempered ruler. He watched the dancer twirl about in a rather stupid-looking peacock costume. Suddenly, the boy’s mask fell off, and Lord Alexander caught a glimpse of his face.
Uh-oh.
“Your Majesty?” said Lord Alexander, interrupting the King, who was muttering to himself about the pointlessness of advisors. “I think I may have found your son.”
Nathaniel, dancing his way down an aisle while trying to put his mask back on in a peacockly fashion, glanced up at the High Table and realized with horror that his father was beckoning to him, his expression furious. The young prince slipped out of line and hurried over to the High Table, not even wanting to think about what would happen next.
Soren was the next to enter. As he crossed the Great Hall as fast as he could, he looked hopelessly down at his clothes, which were still dripping with gravy- he hadn’t had time to change! He tried to smile winningly at his fathers’ courtiers, who were all gazing at him with a strange mixture of horror and contempt on their faces. No, everyone, this isn’t a stain, it’s a fashion statement, Soren imagined himself telling them. It’s gravy-chic. He smiled in spite of himself. Gravy-chic. That was a good one.
Suddenly, the doors of the Hall burst open. A collective gasp echoed around the room- for there in the doorway, her dress soaked with mud and her hair a horrendous mess, was Princess Maya.
The entire room was still. Even the dancers were frozen in the middle of their peacock impersonations. Maya looked around at everyone. Then, without warning, she took off at a run, not stopping until she reached the High Table. She and her brothers faced the sea of people before them; Nathaniel in his peacock costume, Maya looking like a creature from the deepest, darkest part of the forest, and Soren covered in gravy. Their father looked from them to the stunned faces of his court. He took a deep breath and spoke, his deep voice weary and exasperated.
“These are…unfortunately…my children.”
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
For as long as any of them could remember, Nathaniel, Maya, and Soren had disappointed their father. King Oswald III had been a renowned warrior as a young prince, and as King he had led his country to win not just one, but three wars during his reign. Perhaps it was because of this military prowess that the King tended to see personal relationships the same way he saw battles and tournaments. Each person was either an opponent or a conquest; each conversation about tactics rather than feelings. His children loved him, as all children love their parents, but even so all three felt as though he saw them not as people, but as the sum of their accomplishments.
The King’s expectations of Nathaniel were highest of all. As the crown prince, he was not only expected to become King, but to become a great and powerful king like his father. This would prove to be quite a problem, for Prince Nathaniel didn’t want to be king. He had wanted to be a dancer since he was a small child. One night when he was supposed to be in bed, Nathaniel snuck out of his room to watch his father’s festival. He was immediately enthralled by the dancers. He watched them twist and leap for hours, until a maid found him and dragged him into bed.
His father, the King, made his son take fighting and jousting lessons and learn about battle tactics and the history of warfare. Nathaniel didn’t like to learn about war, and he wasn’t good at fighting. He was constantly falling off his horse. The other palace boys laughed at him when he tried to swordfight. He usually ended up tripping and knocking over his opponent, leaving them both in the dirt.
Nathaniel was athletic, but not strong. He was tall and thin, with blonde hair and blue eyes. This wasn’t fashionable for Bellician boys, who were supposed to have brown hair and bulging muscles. From the time he was born, Nathaniel had disappointed his father. The King wished Nathaniel could be more like his younger brother Soren.
Soren wanted to be King more than anything. Unlike his older brother Nathaniel, he actually enjoyed his lessons. He loved learning about tactics and strategies. He was advising the King’s generals by the time he was ten. He had his father’s Bellician good looks, with dark hair and strong features. He was shorter and more muscular than Nathaniel, and had already become the object of many Bellician girls’ desires.
Soren had another talent. He was good at cooking. He liked to help the palace chefs prepare the food for the royal feasts. His father was very proud of him, but told Soren that cooking was for women and commoners, not a prince.
Maya, the king’s only daughter, was older than Soren and younger than Nathaniel, and she wasn’t a typical princess. First of all, she wasn’t pretty or delicate, like most of the noble girls she knew. Those girls were all waifish and constantly smiling, with long golden curls. Maya didn’t resemble them at all. She was short, and she was muscular, and she had straggly brown hair and a large nose. Her ladies-in-waiting forced her into dresses and corsets, and tried to tame her hair and powder her face. But no matter how hard they tried to turn her into a lady, Maya rebelled. She tore her dresses and got her face dirty. Her best friend was William, the hostler’s son. He taught her how to swordfight and ride horses, and in return she let him attend her father’s banquets and play with the noble children. Maya liked to play with the common boys. Once she beat them at their own games, they forgot her gender and royal birth and accepted her as one of them.
One summer’s day a few months after the disastrous anniversary banquet, when Maya and William were fifteen years old, the two of them were racing their horses in one of the palace courtyards. Maya was winning.
“Come and get me, Will!” she taunted. “Think you can catch me?” Laughing, she put on a burst of speed- and nearly ran over a little man wearing purple and gold- the Messenger’s colors. “Whoa!” yelled Maya, and her horse stopped short in front of him.
“What’s the matter, Princess? Give up?” said William, riding over. Then he saw the messenger. “You have a message for the Princess?”
“Yes,” said the little man, looking flustered. “The King wants to see his children. Now.”
Maya and William exchanged glances. The King never asked to see his children. What could possibly be going on that was so important?
When Nathaniel, Maya, and Soren arrived in the King’s chamber, they saw that he was lying in bed. He didn’t look very good. He had once been a handsome and powerful-looking man, but now his flush hung off his bones, and his hair was barely there. When he spoke, it was with a dry, raspy croak. “My children,” he began, “you can see that I am not the man I once was. I have only a few short years to live. Bellicia will soon need a new King. I have noticed, however, that the heir to the throne is reluctant to accept his duty.”
“Yes, my lord,” Nathaniel mumbled.
“I have devised a test,” the King went on. “Whichever of my sons that can fulfill it will be Bellicia’s next King. The task is to go to a little village about a mile west of here. It’s a dreary little place called Nottingham. You must slay a dragon that is terrorizing the townspeople.”
Nathaniel paled. Soren leaned forward eagerly. “How do we get to this village, my lord?”
The King smiled, showing decaying teeth. “Ride west for half a mile. When you come to a fork in the road, take the left. You’ll come to a signpost that points to Nottingham. Now go, my sons.”
The two boys left, one trudging, one almost skipping with excitement and nervousness. Maya turned to go with them, but the King called, “Maya, wait!”
Maya stopped. “Yes, Father?”
“You are of an age now, my child, when you should be looking for a husband. Why have there been no suitors lined up outside our palace, desiring your hand?”
“Father, I have no need of suitors, and I never will,” said Maya defiantly, and left the room.
For as long as any of them could remember, Nathaniel, Maya, and Soren had disappointed their father. King Oswald III had been a renowned warrior as a young prince, and as King he had led his country to win not just one, but three wars during his reign. Perhaps it was because of this military prowess that the King tended to see personal relationships the same way he saw battles and tournaments. Each person was either an opponent or a conquest; each conversation about tactics rather than feelings. His children loved him, as all children love their parents, but even so all three felt as though he saw them not as people, but as the sum of their accomplishments.
The King’s expectations of Nathaniel were highest of all. As the crown prince, he was not only expected to become King, but to become a great and powerful king like his father. This would prove to be quite a problem, for Prince Nathaniel didn’t want to be king. He had wanted to be a dancer since he was a small child. One night when he was supposed to be in bed, Nathaniel snuck out of his room to watch his father’s festival. He was immediately enthralled by the dancers. He watched them twist and leap for hours, until a maid found him and dragged him into bed.
His father, the King, made his son take fighting and jousting lessons and learn about battle tactics and the history of warfare. Nathaniel didn’t like to learn about war, and he wasn’t good at fighting. He was constantly falling off his horse. The other palace boys laughed at him when he tried to swordfight. He usually ended up tripping and knocking over his opponent, leaving them both in the dirt.
Nathaniel was athletic, but not strong. He was tall and thin, with blonde hair and blue eyes. This wasn’t fashionable for Bellician boys, who were supposed to have brown hair and bulging muscles. From the time he was born, Nathaniel had disappointed his father. The King wished Nathaniel could be more like his younger brother Soren.
Soren wanted to be King more than anything. Unlike his older brother Nathaniel, he actually enjoyed his lessons. He loved learning about tactics and strategies. He was advising the King’s generals by the time he was ten. He had his father’s Bellician good looks, with dark hair and strong features. He was shorter and more muscular than Nathaniel, and had already become the object of many Bellician girls’ desires.
Soren had another talent. He was good at cooking. He liked to help the palace chefs prepare the food for the royal feasts. His father was very proud of him, but told Soren that cooking was for women and commoners, not a prince.
Maya, the king’s only daughter, was older than Soren and younger than Nathaniel, and she wasn’t a typical princess. First of all, she wasn’t pretty or delicate, like most of the noble girls she knew. Those girls were all waifish and constantly smiling, with long golden curls. Maya didn’t resemble them at all. She was short, and she was muscular, and she had straggly brown hair and a large nose. Her ladies-in-waiting forced her into dresses and corsets, and tried to tame her hair and powder her face. But no matter how hard they tried to turn her into a lady, Maya rebelled. She tore her dresses and got her face dirty. Her best friend was William, the hostler’s son. He taught her how to swordfight and ride horses, and in return she let him attend her father’s banquets and play with the noble children. Maya liked to play with the common boys. Once she beat them at their own games, they forgot her gender and royal birth and accepted her as one of them.
One summer’s day a few months after the disastrous anniversary banquet, when Maya and William were fifteen years old, the two of them were racing their horses in one of the palace courtyards. Maya was winning.
“Come and get me, Will!” she taunted. “Think you can catch me?” Laughing, she put on a burst of speed- and nearly ran over a little man wearing purple and gold- the Messenger’s colors. “Whoa!” yelled Maya, and her horse stopped short in front of him.
“What’s the matter, Princess? Give up?” said William, riding over. Then he saw the messenger. “You have a message for the Princess?”
“Yes,” said the little man, looking flustered. “The King wants to see his children. Now.”
Maya and William exchanged glances. The King never asked to see his children. What could possibly be going on that was so important?
When Nathaniel, Maya, and Soren arrived in the King’s chamber, they saw that he was lying in bed. He didn’t look very good. He had once been a handsome and powerful-looking man, but now his flush hung off his bones, and his hair was barely there. When he spoke, it was with a dry, raspy croak. “My children,” he began, “you can see that I am not the man I once was. I have only a few short years to live. Bellicia will soon need a new King. I have noticed, however, that the heir to the throne is reluctant to accept his duty.”
“Yes, my lord,” Nathaniel mumbled.
“I have devised a test,” the King went on. “Whichever of my sons that can fulfill it will be Bellicia’s next King. The task is to go to a little village about a mile west of here. It’s a dreary little place called Nottingham. You must slay a dragon that is terrorizing the townspeople.”
Nathaniel paled. Soren leaned forward eagerly. “How do we get to this village, my lord?”
The King smiled, showing decaying teeth. “Ride west for half a mile. When you come to a fork in the road, take the left. You’ll come to a signpost that points to Nottingham. Now go, my sons.”
The two boys left, one trudging, one almost skipping with excitement and nervousness. Maya turned to go with them, but the King called, “Maya, wait!”
Maya stopped. “Yes, Father?”
“You are of an age now, my child, when you should be looking for a husband. Why have there been no suitors lined up outside our palace, desiring your hand?”
“Father, I have no need of suitors, and I never will,” said Maya defiantly, and left the room.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
The next day, Nathaniel set off on a quest to slay the dragon. His armor made him feel like he was wearing a very small prison, and he was riding a very old and ornery horse that did not make the ride any more comfortable, with its habit of stumbling on every alternate step. He rode west, came to a fork in the road, and seriously considered taking the wrong path to go and find a new life. At seventeen, he was more than old enough to make his own way in the world. But he knew he couldn’t neglect his duty. Like it or not, he was the King’s oldest son. He was expected to do great things. With that in mind, he rode down the path to Nottingham.
Nottingham turned out to be the most depressed little place Nathaniel had ever seen. All of the inhabitants were going about their daily chores, but they all looked very sad, like someone they knew had died. Nathaniel decided to find out why. He rode up to a large woman who was doing her washing. She was a strong commoner-woman, not like the dainty ladies at the palace. She attacked her washboard with the strength of a bull. In a way, she reminded him of Maya. He smiled.
“Hello,” said Nathaniel brightly. “How are you this fine day?” The woman stared at him.
Nathaniel tried again. “My name’s Nathaniel,” he said. “What’s yours?”
The woman laughed heartily. “You’re the King’s son, aren’t you?”
“Um…yes…”
“You aren’t very kingly, are you? You’re a skinny little thing. You could use some common cooking. My youngest daughter’s bigger than you,” said the woman, still chuckling.
Nathaniel decided to change the subject. “Why does everybody look so depressed?”
The woman’s expression darkened. She beckoned him closer. “We are sad, Prince Nathaniel, because today is Lottery Day. It’s the day when one of our young maidens is sacrificed to the evil dragon.”
Nathaniel was horrified. “Why?”
“Because if we don’t the dragon will eat all of our sheep,” said the washerwoman. Understanding came to her eyes. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Nathaniel, sitting up straighter.
“All right, little Prince Nathaniel. Go and slay our dragon. And try not to get killed.”
Nathaniel grinned. Someone, at least, wanted him to succeed. He rode away from the woman and up a hill. Something told him that was where the dragon was.
He was right. At the top of the hill was a cave. And in the cave was a dragon. The Dragon was the biggest creature Nathaniel had ever seen. It barely fit in its cave. It was a mixture of all different colors-blue and green and red and orange and several others Nathaniel had never seen before. It skin was scaly. It had a long neck, and from that neck protruded a huge head covered in the same bright scales as the rest of its body. It yawned, and in its mouth Nathaniel could see huge fangs. Its black eyes were as big as Nathaniel’s fist, and the eyes looked-how could that be possible?-sad. Then Nathaniel realized that the dragon was missing its wings. The poor beast couldn’t fly. He didn’t want to kill it.
It was then that he saw the maiden. She was sitting with her knees clasped to her chest. Her red hair obscured her face. She was wearing a white dress with no shoes. Nathaniel couldn’t believe that her own neighbors would allow her to be eaten by a monster, a monster that Nathaniel knew he couldn’t bring himself to kill. He hoped for the girl’s sake that his brother Soren could. He looked at the scene one last time, and then rode away, feeling that perhaps riding off to find a new life would have been a better plan after all.
When he came back to the palace, his brother and sister were sitting on opposite sides of a chessboard in one of the sitting rooms. Maya was looking out the window. She seemed bored.
“Come on, Maya, it’s your move!” said Soren impatiently. Maya looked intensely at the board. She seemed to be concentrating. Soren looked away, thinking it was going to be a long wait--and Maya made her move. She managed to use one of her bishops to capture his queen and checkmate the King at the same time.
Maya tapped her brother on the shoulder. “Wake up, Soren. I’ve made my move.”
Soren looked at the board. “Well done, Maya,” he said. “You’ve learned well.”
“Learned? I taught myself.”
“No, you didn’t, I taught you!”
“Did not.” Nathaniel entered the room hastily, before the bickering turned into an argument. “I went to Nottingham,” he said. “I talked to a woman doing her washing. She said that the dragon was about to eat one of their maidens.”
“Did you get it?” said Soren. He tried to disguise it, but both Nathaniel and Maya could see the eagerness in his eyes.
“No,” said Nathaniel wearily. “It’s a sad creature, really. It doesn’t have any wings.”
Soren didn’t even hear him. His mind was filled with heroic images-Soren slaying the dragon, Soren bringing back the skin of the dragon, Soren impressing the village girls with his armor…He shook the last image out of his mind and stood up. “I’m off,” he said in what he hoped to be a manly, commanding tone. Then he strode out of the room.
“Want to play chess?” Maya asked Nathaniel. “I’ve gotten pretty good…”
“No, thanks,” said Nathaniel. “See, that’s what happens when you get too good. No one wants to play with you anymore.”
Maya scowled and left in search of an unwitting victim, leaving Nathaniel alone with his thoughts.
When Soren arrived in the village of Nottingham, he didn’t notice the depressed expressions on the faces of the townspeople. His head was too filled with visions of glory. His armor was freshly polished, his horse was newly shod, and he had brought his most impressive sword. He definitely looked the part of the brave and daring rescuer, if he did say so himself.
Soren spotted a peasant woman outside of her house, washing clothes. He remembered Nathaniel talking about the woman who told him about the dragon, and rode closer to her.
“Hail and well met, woman,” he said mightily.
The woman looked impressed. “Well now. You’re a sight to be seen. Wearing your daddy’s armor, are you? You must be the King’s other son. You’re quite a bit manlier than the other one, I’ll give you that, but it’ll be a bit before you grow into that sword of yours.”
Soren drew his sword. It was a beautiful weapon. The hilt was studded with the amethysts Bellicia was famous for. The blade sparkled in the sunlight.
“This was my father’s sword,” he said. “It’s the one he used to fight all of his famous battles.”
“And this was my mother’s washboard,” said the woman. “It’s the one she used to wash all of her famous clothes.”
“You’re still washing clothes, then?” said Soren. “My brother told me about you. You must have a lot of clothes to wash.”
“I don’t just wash clothes, lad,” said the woman. “I wash sheets, blankets, handkerchiefs, everything. I do all the washing for the whole village. That’s my job- village washerwoman.”
“And how much are you paid?” said Soren, who was interested in how the various towns of Bellicia operated. After all, if he succeeded in his quest, he’d be King someday!
“I’m not paid,” said the woman. “We do things differently here in Nottingham.
Everyone has a job-there are people who hunt the food, people who prepare the food, people who make the clothes, people who wash the clothes, everything. We don’t use money, because everyone helps each other out. Everyone has all they need.”
Soren was fascinated. He would definitely tell his father about this. The whole Kingdom could take advice from this little village.
The village did, however, have one rather large flaw-the fact that it was being terrorized by a maiden-eating dragon. Something would have to be done about that, of course. He asked the woman, “Where is the dragon that is causing all these problems?”
“Up that hill,” said the woman, pointing. “In a cave. You’ll see it. It’s hard to miss.”
Soren saluted to the woman and rode off, sword pointed forward. Several villagers stared at him as they passed, but Soren didn’t notice. His horse galloped up the hill. Soren tensed. This was exciting. He was going to prove once and for all that he would make a good King.
When he reached the mouth of the cave, he saw the dragon. It was huge and ugly, full of colors and scales and spikes. It opened its mouth, showing gigantic teeth. Soren dismounted his horse, ran forward and jabbed his sword into the dragon’s side. The sword bounced off. Soren cursed under his breath. Those scales were tough. He thrust at it again, this time hard enough to alert the creature. It turned its great head and looked at him with something approximating surprise.
Soren jabbed the sword into the top of its long neck. The neck had less scales than the rest of its body. The dragon let out a strangely human bellow of pain and turned its snout toward Soren, who could see it was about to incinerate him with its fiery breath. He quickly ran around to the other side and was about to stab it in the eye when the dragon hit him from behind with the back of its tail.
The blow from the dragon’s tail caused Soren more pain than he had ever felt in his life. He fell to the ground and lay there in absolute terror. There, on the floor of the dragon’s cave, he realized something. It was all well and good to train to fight soldiers and knights. It was great to learn tactics and history. But nothing he had ever learned in his cozy life at the palace had prepared him for fighting an actual, live dragon. He remembered that he wasn’t a great hero yet. He was thirteen years old, and he had rode into this with absolutely no thought to the consequences.
And now he was going to die. He knew that. The dragon’s head was looming over him, coming ever closer. Any moment now and it was going to open its jaws and grab him. And then-impossibly, wonderfully, the dragon paused. It looked at him with reluctance in his eyes. Was that possible? Did beasts have morals?
Soren grabbed his sword and ran out of the dragon’s way. He knew the fight was over. There was no way he could beat the thing. But there was no one left to save the maiden.
The next day, Nathaniel set off on a quest to slay the dragon. His armor made him feel like he was wearing a very small prison, and he was riding a very old and ornery horse that did not make the ride any more comfortable, with its habit of stumbling on every alternate step. He rode west, came to a fork in the road, and seriously considered taking the wrong path to go and find a new life. At seventeen, he was more than old enough to make his own way in the world. But he knew he couldn’t neglect his duty. Like it or not, he was the King’s oldest son. He was expected to do great things. With that in mind, he rode down the path to Nottingham.
Nottingham turned out to be the most depressed little place Nathaniel had ever seen. All of the inhabitants were going about their daily chores, but they all looked very sad, like someone they knew had died. Nathaniel decided to find out why. He rode up to a large woman who was doing her washing. She was a strong commoner-woman, not like the dainty ladies at the palace. She attacked her washboard with the strength of a bull. In a way, she reminded him of Maya. He smiled.
“Hello,” said Nathaniel brightly. “How are you this fine day?” The woman stared at him.
Nathaniel tried again. “My name’s Nathaniel,” he said. “What’s yours?”
The woman laughed heartily. “You’re the King’s son, aren’t you?”
“Um…yes…”
“You aren’t very kingly, are you? You’re a skinny little thing. You could use some common cooking. My youngest daughter’s bigger than you,” said the woman, still chuckling.
Nathaniel decided to change the subject. “Why does everybody look so depressed?”
The woman’s expression darkened. She beckoned him closer. “We are sad, Prince Nathaniel, because today is Lottery Day. It’s the day when one of our young maidens is sacrificed to the evil dragon.”
Nathaniel was horrified. “Why?”
“Because if we don’t the dragon will eat all of our sheep,” said the washerwoman. Understanding came to her eyes. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Nathaniel, sitting up straighter.
“All right, little Prince Nathaniel. Go and slay our dragon. And try not to get killed.”
Nathaniel grinned. Someone, at least, wanted him to succeed. He rode away from the woman and up a hill. Something told him that was where the dragon was.
He was right. At the top of the hill was a cave. And in the cave was a dragon. The Dragon was the biggest creature Nathaniel had ever seen. It barely fit in its cave. It was a mixture of all different colors-blue and green and red and orange and several others Nathaniel had never seen before. It skin was scaly. It had a long neck, and from that neck protruded a huge head covered in the same bright scales as the rest of its body. It yawned, and in its mouth Nathaniel could see huge fangs. Its black eyes were as big as Nathaniel’s fist, and the eyes looked-how could that be possible?-sad. Then Nathaniel realized that the dragon was missing its wings. The poor beast couldn’t fly. He didn’t want to kill it.
It was then that he saw the maiden. She was sitting with her knees clasped to her chest. Her red hair obscured her face. She was wearing a white dress with no shoes. Nathaniel couldn’t believe that her own neighbors would allow her to be eaten by a monster, a monster that Nathaniel knew he couldn’t bring himself to kill. He hoped for the girl’s sake that his brother Soren could. He looked at the scene one last time, and then rode away, feeling that perhaps riding off to find a new life would have been a better plan after all.
When he came back to the palace, his brother and sister were sitting on opposite sides of a chessboard in one of the sitting rooms. Maya was looking out the window. She seemed bored.
“Come on, Maya, it’s your move!” said Soren impatiently. Maya looked intensely at the board. She seemed to be concentrating. Soren looked away, thinking it was going to be a long wait--and Maya made her move. She managed to use one of her bishops to capture his queen and checkmate the King at the same time.
Maya tapped her brother on the shoulder. “Wake up, Soren. I’ve made my move.”
Soren looked at the board. “Well done, Maya,” he said. “You’ve learned well.”
“Learned? I taught myself.”
“No, you didn’t, I taught you!”
“Did not.” Nathaniel entered the room hastily, before the bickering turned into an argument. “I went to Nottingham,” he said. “I talked to a woman doing her washing. She said that the dragon was about to eat one of their maidens.”
“Did you get it?” said Soren. He tried to disguise it, but both Nathaniel and Maya could see the eagerness in his eyes.
“No,” said Nathaniel wearily. “It’s a sad creature, really. It doesn’t have any wings.”
Soren didn’t even hear him. His mind was filled with heroic images-Soren slaying the dragon, Soren bringing back the skin of the dragon, Soren impressing the village girls with his armor…He shook the last image out of his mind and stood up. “I’m off,” he said in what he hoped to be a manly, commanding tone. Then he strode out of the room.
“Want to play chess?” Maya asked Nathaniel. “I’ve gotten pretty good…”
“No, thanks,” said Nathaniel. “See, that’s what happens when you get too good. No one wants to play with you anymore.”
Maya scowled and left in search of an unwitting victim, leaving Nathaniel alone with his thoughts.
When Soren arrived in the village of Nottingham, he didn’t notice the depressed expressions on the faces of the townspeople. His head was too filled with visions of glory. His armor was freshly polished, his horse was newly shod, and he had brought his most impressive sword. He definitely looked the part of the brave and daring rescuer, if he did say so himself.
Soren spotted a peasant woman outside of her house, washing clothes. He remembered Nathaniel talking about the woman who told him about the dragon, and rode closer to her.
“Hail and well met, woman,” he said mightily.
The woman looked impressed. “Well now. You’re a sight to be seen. Wearing your daddy’s armor, are you? You must be the King’s other son. You’re quite a bit manlier than the other one, I’ll give you that, but it’ll be a bit before you grow into that sword of yours.”
Soren drew his sword. It was a beautiful weapon. The hilt was studded with the amethysts Bellicia was famous for. The blade sparkled in the sunlight.
“This was my father’s sword,” he said. “It’s the one he used to fight all of his famous battles.”
“And this was my mother’s washboard,” said the woman. “It’s the one she used to wash all of her famous clothes.”
“You’re still washing clothes, then?” said Soren. “My brother told me about you. You must have a lot of clothes to wash.”
“I don’t just wash clothes, lad,” said the woman. “I wash sheets, blankets, handkerchiefs, everything. I do all the washing for the whole village. That’s my job- village washerwoman.”
“And how much are you paid?” said Soren, who was interested in how the various towns of Bellicia operated. After all, if he succeeded in his quest, he’d be King someday!
“I’m not paid,” said the woman. “We do things differently here in Nottingham.
Everyone has a job-there are people who hunt the food, people who prepare the food, people who make the clothes, people who wash the clothes, everything. We don’t use money, because everyone helps each other out. Everyone has all they need.”
Soren was fascinated. He would definitely tell his father about this. The whole Kingdom could take advice from this little village.
The village did, however, have one rather large flaw-the fact that it was being terrorized by a maiden-eating dragon. Something would have to be done about that, of course. He asked the woman, “Where is the dragon that is causing all these problems?”
“Up that hill,” said the woman, pointing. “In a cave. You’ll see it. It’s hard to miss.”
Soren saluted to the woman and rode off, sword pointed forward. Several villagers stared at him as they passed, but Soren didn’t notice. His horse galloped up the hill. Soren tensed. This was exciting. He was going to prove once and for all that he would make a good King.
When he reached the mouth of the cave, he saw the dragon. It was huge and ugly, full of colors and scales and spikes. It opened its mouth, showing gigantic teeth. Soren dismounted his horse, ran forward and jabbed his sword into the dragon’s side. The sword bounced off. Soren cursed under his breath. Those scales were tough. He thrust at it again, this time hard enough to alert the creature. It turned its great head and looked at him with something approximating surprise.
Soren jabbed the sword into the top of its long neck. The neck had less scales than the rest of its body. The dragon let out a strangely human bellow of pain and turned its snout toward Soren, who could see it was about to incinerate him with its fiery breath. He quickly ran around to the other side and was about to stab it in the eye when the dragon hit him from behind with the back of its tail.
The blow from the dragon’s tail caused Soren more pain than he had ever felt in his life. He fell to the ground and lay there in absolute terror. There, on the floor of the dragon’s cave, he realized something. It was all well and good to train to fight soldiers and knights. It was great to learn tactics and history. But nothing he had ever learned in his cozy life at the palace had prepared him for fighting an actual, live dragon. He remembered that he wasn’t a great hero yet. He was thirteen years old, and he had rode into this with absolutely no thought to the consequences.
And now he was going to die. He knew that. The dragon’s head was looming over him, coming ever closer. Any moment now and it was going to open its jaws and grab him. And then-impossibly, wonderfully, the dragon paused. It looked at him with reluctance in his eyes. Was that possible? Did beasts have morals?
Soren grabbed his sword and ran out of the dragon’s way. He knew the fight was over. There was no way he could beat the thing. But there was no one left to save the maiden.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Maya, who was in the middle of beating William at chess, again, looked out of the nearest window and saw her younger brother approaching. He looked dirty and tired, and not in the least triumphant. In that instant, she knew what had happened. Soren, like Nathaniel, had failed to slay the dragon. The quest was over. But this wasn’t just about who would be the next King. Nathaniel had mentioned something about a maiden. The girl would die if nothing more was done to save her.
That’s it!” said Maya out loud.
“What’s it?” said William. “Thought of another way to beat me, you lily-livered hussy?”
“Quiet,” snapped Maya. “I’m thinking.” What had her father said about Nottingham? It lay a mile west of the palace. She could do that. She was a good rider, and had ridden farther than that before.
“Right,” said Maya. “I’m off.”
“You mean I win?” said William, amazed.
“No,” said Maya. “I’ll be back to win later.” She leapt out of her chair and ran all the way through the corridors, down the marble stairs, through the great hall, and out of the palace. She raced into the stables, saddled the nearest horse, and, clad in some of Soren’s armor and carrying one of his swords, rode away down the road to save the peasant girl.
When she got to Nottingham, she looked for the washerwoman Nathaniel had told her about. Immediately she saw her. Maya rode over to the woman and said,
“Hello. I’m Maya, the King’s daughter. I’m here-”
“I know what you’re here for,” the woman interrupted. Maya was astonished. Where she came from, no one ever interrupted her, not even William. If some common woman had interrupted her father, he’d punish her somehow-by making her pay a fine, maybe? But Maya wasn’t like that. She liked that someone was finally showing some assertiveness other than her.
“You’re here to slay a dragon,” said the woman. “Your brothers have been here, but neither of them managed to do it. I was wondering who the old King would send next, but I never expected a woman. Whose armor and weapons have you stolen? Or has the King decided to have female soldiers all of a sudden?”
Maya sighed. “They’re my brother’s.”
“I assume you want to know where the dragon is,” said the woman. “It’s up there on that hill. Hopefully you’ll do better than those two princes.”
Maya was about to turn away when she thought of something. “Why do you feed the dragon young girls?”
“He’ll eat all our sheep if we don’t,” said the woman. “You know the stories.”
“So you value sheep more than girls,” Maya thought out loud.
“Aye,” said the woman. “I never thought of it like that. We women do all the work. They say we’re the fairer sex? We do all the washing, all the cleaning, and all the child-bearing. We’re more useful than the men think.”
Maya nodded. “You’d think they’d be feeding the thing sheep so it doesn’t eat their young girls.”
The woman laughed. “I like you. For the first time today I feel like someone’s got a chance to beat the dragon. Good luck, Princess.”
Maya nodded and rode away, up the hill toward the dragon.
When Maya reached the dragon’s cave, she immediately noticed two things-one, that the maiden looked bored rather than terrified, and two, that the dragon still hadn’t eaten her.
Maya dismounted and went over to the girl. “Hello,” she said. “Have my brothers been here?”
“If you mean those two idiots who didn’t manage to poke the dragon in the eye, let alone slay it, then yes, they were here. Why are you here? Have you been sacrificed too?”
“No,” said Maya. “I’m here to save you.” She looked over at the dragon. “This is going to sound like a rather rude question, but why aren’t you dead yet? That dragon doesn’t seem too interested in killing me, either.”
“I don’t think it wants to eat me,” said the girl. “It’s been lying there all day, and once in a while it looks over at me like it can’t bring itself to eat me. It’s been terribly boring.”
Suddenly Maya got an idea. If Nathaniel and Soren hadn’t managed to kill the beast using violence, why would she be any more likely to succeed? Unladylike or no, she still wasn’t as physically strong as the boys. She would have to use different skills.
Maya walked up to the dragon, cupped her hands around her mouth, and yelled, “Hello, dragon. Are you going to kill me?”
The peasant girl looked at her like she was insane. Then, to their mutual astonishment, the dragon said, “I don’t want to, but if you’re going to stick pins in me like that other human, I might have to.”
“So you can talk, then,” said Maya.
“Obviously,” yawned the dragon.
“Well then, I’ve got a few questions to ask you. Why do you eat these girls?”
“Because they’re the only food I get,” wailed the dragon. “I don’t like eating people, but I’ve lived in this cave all my life. I don’t have any wings, so I can’t fly to greener pastures. One time I walked down to the village and ate some sheep because I was so hungry, and from then on the humans just assumed I liked eating virginal girls.”
It was obvious the dragon needed someone to complain to.
“So then I just ate the girls,” said the dragon, “but I always waited until I was starving because I don’t like eating people. I hate it when they scream. I’d be happy with a tuna sandwich, but the humans just assume I want girls!”
“A tuna sandwich,” said Maya, shaking her head. Dragons really were a misunderstood species.
“I suppose we could make you a tuna sandwich…” said the maiden doubtfully.
“Yes!” said Maya. “That’s it! A tuna sandwich! Every year, the best cooks in Nottingham can make you a huge tuna sandwich. My brother Soren’s a great cook, he can help you.”
“That would be lovely,” said the dragon, and rested its head on its claws once more.
“Wow,” said Maya, looking at the peasant girl. “That was easy. Everyone’s been assuming the only solution would be to kill the dragon, and all we had to do was make it a tuna sandwich. This is why there should be more women knights.”
When the two girls went back down to the village, they told the washerwoman about their plan. The washerwoman told one of the cooks, who told the others, and they told the fishermen, who promised to catch enough tuna for a dragon-sized sandwich.
When Maya rode away from the village, most of the villagers waved and cheered as she left. Maya grinned. Her father wouldn’t know what to think when he learned that his daughter had solved the problem without killing anything.
The King was indeed very surprised. “Obviously the quest was not hard enough,” he said when his children gathered in his bedchamber that evening.
Nathaniel was astonished. “But, Father, neither Soren nor I could do it!”
“Yes, it was plenty hard enough,” grumbled Soren, who was still sore after his bout with the dragon.
“I will devise another test,” said the King. “The three of you will climb the tallest mountain in Bellicia. On the top of this mountain is the Cup of Life. Whoever reaches the top first and gets the cup will be Bellicia’s new King…or queen.”
Nathaniel, Maya, and Soren looked at each other nervously. This time they were being asked to directly compete with one another. This was going to be interesting.
Maya, who was in the middle of beating William at chess, again, looked out of the nearest window and saw her younger brother approaching. He looked dirty and tired, and not in the least triumphant. In that instant, she knew what had happened. Soren, like Nathaniel, had failed to slay the dragon. The quest was over. But this wasn’t just about who would be the next King. Nathaniel had mentioned something about a maiden. The girl would die if nothing more was done to save her.
That’s it!” said Maya out loud.
“What’s it?” said William. “Thought of another way to beat me, you lily-livered hussy?”
“Quiet,” snapped Maya. “I’m thinking.” What had her father said about Nottingham? It lay a mile west of the palace. She could do that. She was a good rider, and had ridden farther than that before.
“Right,” said Maya. “I’m off.”
“You mean I win?” said William, amazed.
“No,” said Maya. “I’ll be back to win later.” She leapt out of her chair and ran all the way through the corridors, down the marble stairs, through the great hall, and out of the palace. She raced into the stables, saddled the nearest horse, and, clad in some of Soren’s armor and carrying one of his swords, rode away down the road to save the peasant girl.
When she got to Nottingham, she looked for the washerwoman Nathaniel had told her about. Immediately she saw her. Maya rode over to the woman and said,
“Hello. I’m Maya, the King’s daughter. I’m here-”
“I know what you’re here for,” the woman interrupted. Maya was astonished. Where she came from, no one ever interrupted her, not even William. If some common woman had interrupted her father, he’d punish her somehow-by making her pay a fine, maybe? But Maya wasn’t like that. She liked that someone was finally showing some assertiveness other than her.
“You’re here to slay a dragon,” said the woman. “Your brothers have been here, but neither of them managed to do it. I was wondering who the old King would send next, but I never expected a woman. Whose armor and weapons have you stolen? Or has the King decided to have female soldiers all of a sudden?”
Maya sighed. “They’re my brother’s.”
“I assume you want to know where the dragon is,” said the woman. “It’s up there on that hill. Hopefully you’ll do better than those two princes.”
Maya was about to turn away when she thought of something. “Why do you feed the dragon young girls?”
“He’ll eat all our sheep if we don’t,” said the woman. “You know the stories.”
“So you value sheep more than girls,” Maya thought out loud.
“Aye,” said the woman. “I never thought of it like that. We women do all the work. They say we’re the fairer sex? We do all the washing, all the cleaning, and all the child-bearing. We’re more useful than the men think.”
Maya nodded. “You’d think they’d be feeding the thing sheep so it doesn’t eat their young girls.”
The woman laughed. “I like you. For the first time today I feel like someone’s got a chance to beat the dragon. Good luck, Princess.”
Maya nodded and rode away, up the hill toward the dragon.
When Maya reached the dragon’s cave, she immediately noticed two things-one, that the maiden looked bored rather than terrified, and two, that the dragon still hadn’t eaten her.
Maya dismounted and went over to the girl. “Hello,” she said. “Have my brothers been here?”
“If you mean those two idiots who didn’t manage to poke the dragon in the eye, let alone slay it, then yes, they were here. Why are you here? Have you been sacrificed too?”
“No,” said Maya. “I’m here to save you.” She looked over at the dragon. “This is going to sound like a rather rude question, but why aren’t you dead yet? That dragon doesn’t seem too interested in killing me, either.”
“I don’t think it wants to eat me,” said the girl. “It’s been lying there all day, and once in a while it looks over at me like it can’t bring itself to eat me. It’s been terribly boring.”
Suddenly Maya got an idea. If Nathaniel and Soren hadn’t managed to kill the beast using violence, why would she be any more likely to succeed? Unladylike or no, she still wasn’t as physically strong as the boys. She would have to use different skills.
Maya walked up to the dragon, cupped her hands around her mouth, and yelled, “Hello, dragon. Are you going to kill me?”
The peasant girl looked at her like she was insane. Then, to their mutual astonishment, the dragon said, “I don’t want to, but if you’re going to stick pins in me like that other human, I might have to.”
“So you can talk, then,” said Maya.
“Obviously,” yawned the dragon.
“Well then, I’ve got a few questions to ask you. Why do you eat these girls?”
“Because they’re the only food I get,” wailed the dragon. “I don’t like eating people, but I’ve lived in this cave all my life. I don’t have any wings, so I can’t fly to greener pastures. One time I walked down to the village and ate some sheep because I was so hungry, and from then on the humans just assumed I liked eating virginal girls.”
It was obvious the dragon needed someone to complain to.
“So then I just ate the girls,” said the dragon, “but I always waited until I was starving because I don’t like eating people. I hate it when they scream. I’d be happy with a tuna sandwich, but the humans just assume I want girls!”
“A tuna sandwich,” said Maya, shaking her head. Dragons really were a misunderstood species.
“I suppose we could make you a tuna sandwich…” said the maiden doubtfully.
“Yes!” said Maya. “That’s it! A tuna sandwich! Every year, the best cooks in Nottingham can make you a huge tuna sandwich. My brother Soren’s a great cook, he can help you.”
“That would be lovely,” said the dragon, and rested its head on its claws once more.
“Wow,” said Maya, looking at the peasant girl. “That was easy. Everyone’s been assuming the only solution would be to kill the dragon, and all we had to do was make it a tuna sandwich. This is why there should be more women knights.”
When the two girls went back down to the village, they told the washerwoman about their plan. The washerwoman told one of the cooks, who told the others, and they told the fishermen, who promised to catch enough tuna for a dragon-sized sandwich.
When Maya rode away from the village, most of the villagers waved and cheered as she left. Maya grinned. Her father wouldn’t know what to think when he learned that his daughter had solved the problem without killing anything.
The King was indeed very surprised. “Obviously the quest was not hard enough,” he said when his children gathered in his bedchamber that evening.
Nathaniel was astonished. “But, Father, neither Soren nor I could do it!”
“Yes, it was plenty hard enough,” grumbled Soren, who was still sore after his bout with the dragon.
“I will devise another test,” said the King. “The three of you will climb the tallest mountain in Bellicia. On the top of this mountain is the Cup of Life. Whoever reaches the top first and gets the cup will be Bellicia’s new King…or queen.”
Nathaniel, Maya, and Soren looked at each other nervously. This time they were being asked to directly compete with one another. This was going to be interesting.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Chapter 5
Chapter 5
The next morning, the three teenagers stood at the foot of Mount Stagnum. Their horses would have to be left there. They would proceed on foot up the face of the mountain.
It wasn’t a particularly tall mountain. Bellicia wasn’t a mountainous country. It was several hundred feet up, full of rocks, ledges that jutted precariously off the face of the mountain, and places where one could easily plummet to the ground.
The three King’s children stood in silence for a few minutes, staring up at the mountain. Maya broke the silence first. “Listen,” she said. “The only one of us who actually wants to rule Bellicia is Soren.”
Soren nodded. “You want to make it up the mountain to prove that girls can do it.”
“And I want to make it up the mountain to prove that I’m not a complete loser,” said Nathaniel.
“Right,” said Maya. “We all want to get to the top of Mount Stagnum. But only one of us wants to get the Cup of Life.”
“So...” said Soren.
“So,” said Maya, “there’s no reason for us to compete. Father thinks we have to triumph over each other to prove ourselves? We’ll prove a lot more if we work together.”
Soren immediately understood. “So we’ll each use our strength to help each other up the mountain! I’m good at planning. I’ll figure out our strategy.”
Soren looked up at Mount Stagnum and tried to figure out how they would get up it. Now that they were ready to climb it, it looked much taller. For about two hundred feet, it was covered in a forest of dark, strangely shaped trees that swayed and bent in the wind. At one point, the forest simply ended, and the rest of the mountain was bare, without even a bush to decorate its desolate peak. It became much steeper at that point, and looked much harder to climb.
After a few minutes of thinking, Soren said, “We’ll start there.” He pointed to a spot at the foot of the mountain. Then he knelt down and drew a line in the dirt with his finger. “We’ll go up this way. If you look closer you’ll see that there aren’t as many obstacles through there.” He drew more lines, describing each one. “We’ll go up there…around there…and then once we get out of the forest, I’ll figure it out. Maya, your job is to clear a path for us. You’ll be the one who gets rid of branches and rocks and makes it easier for us.”
“I’m the one who’ll prevent us from falling off the mountain,” said Maya. “That’s always good.”
For a moment the three of them stood in silence. Planning was all well and good, but actually climbing it…Soren and Nathaniel looked at each other nervously. Then Nathaniel said, “Hey-where’s Maya?”
“Hello!” they heard someone say. Looking up, they saw their sister waving at them. She’d already started up the mountain. The two boys grinned and followed her.
It was dark in the forest, and cold. The trees were strangely shaped, and swayed and bent in the cold wind that blew through their branches, ruffling the boys’ hair and causing them to pull their cloaks tighter around their shoulders. An owl hooted in the distance, but other than that, there was no sound. Leaves crackled under the princes’ feet as they hurried to catch up with their sister.
When they found Maya, she was leaning against an old oak tree, waiting for them.
“This place is strange,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure why she was whispering-there was no one there to hear her, save for Soren and Nathaniel. “Let’s hurry through, okay?”
Her brothers nodded. The three teenagers set off through the woods.
For the first two hundred feet, their plan worked well. Maya went first, clearing away bushes and cobwebs and kicking away rocks, trying to clear a path for her brothers, who followed after her. She was too far away for them to see, but every once in a while they would hear her call to them: “Huge rock up ahead!” or “Be careful, there’s a hole to your right!”
After about an hour of this, the forest abruptly ended. Now, there was not even a bush to decorate the mountain’s rocky terrain. There were no signs of life at all, not a bird or even a spider. It was as if the mountain itself had died.
The three siblings sat down together at the edge of the forest and tried to make themselves comfortable on a large rock.
“What’s so special about this Cup, anyway?” grumbled Nathaniel, taking off his boot and shaking it. A torrent of rocks poured out.
Soren’s eyes took on a reverent gleam as he said, “It’s the Cup of Life. Legend has it that whoever drinks from it will be blessed with uncommonly long life. I could be King for a hundred years with that cup!”
“So why is everything around here so dead?” wondered Maya.
“It probably doesn’t work on anything other than humans,” said Soren, who sounded annoyed that she doubted the power of his Cup.
“Oh, no,” said Nathaniel. “I don’t think this Cup thing is a good idea.”
“Why not?” said Maya.
“Soren with an uncommonly long life? We’ll never be rid of him!” Nathaniel and Maya both laughed.
Soren scowled and stood up. “We’d better get going,” he said.
“Yes, if we want to find your precious Cup,” said Maya, still chuckling.
Soren turned and stalked away, muttering to himself.
“I think we’ve offended him,” said Nathaniel.
A few minutes later they were back in their original formation: Maya leading, trying to make the way up easier for her brothers, who followed behind. This time, the going was much harder. Several times Soren or Maya would slip on a rock, and Nathaniel, whose feet were nimbler, would struggle to catch them. Once, Maya’s foot got stuck in a hole, and her brothers had to catch up with her and pull her out. And still there was no sound other than their breathing.
After what seemed like hours, they were almost at the top. They could see the very top of the mountain now, and-was it possible?-a glint of gold.
“Nathaniel,” Soren said. “This is when you prove that you’re not a complete loser. You’re going to run up, grab the Cup, and bring it down to us. Are you ready?”
Nathaniel straightened. “Yes,” he said. “I am ready.”
Then he was off. He ran straight up the mountain, avoiding rocks and pebbles that would send him crashing down. His feet were fast and his legs were strong after years of dancing when his father wasn’t looking. Wind blew in his hair as he ran higher and higher. He was going to get it! He would get the Cup of Life!
Down below him, Maya and Soren cheered. They were standing on a steep ledge that jutted out of the mountain at a strange angle.
“Go, Nathaniel!” Soren yelled. “You can do it!” He watched his brother run. Their plan had worked perfectly. All three of them had worked together to complete their fathers’ quest. Everything was going great.
And then, in that moment, Soren’s foot slipped. Terror jolted through him as he scrambled to find something to hold onto. He was slipping off the ledge fast. “Maya!” he yelled. But by the time she turned around, Soren was hanging onto the ledge by the tips of his fingers.
Maya tried to grab him, but he had already fallen.
The next morning, the three teenagers stood at the foot of Mount Stagnum. Their horses would have to be left there. They would proceed on foot up the face of the mountain.
It wasn’t a particularly tall mountain. Bellicia wasn’t a mountainous country. It was several hundred feet up, full of rocks, ledges that jutted precariously off the face of the mountain, and places where one could easily plummet to the ground.
The three King’s children stood in silence for a few minutes, staring up at the mountain. Maya broke the silence first. “Listen,” she said. “The only one of us who actually wants to rule Bellicia is Soren.”
Soren nodded. “You want to make it up the mountain to prove that girls can do it.”
“And I want to make it up the mountain to prove that I’m not a complete loser,” said Nathaniel.
“Right,” said Maya. “We all want to get to the top of Mount Stagnum. But only one of us wants to get the Cup of Life.”
“So...” said Soren.
“So,” said Maya, “there’s no reason for us to compete. Father thinks we have to triumph over each other to prove ourselves? We’ll prove a lot more if we work together.”
Soren immediately understood. “So we’ll each use our strength to help each other up the mountain! I’m good at planning. I’ll figure out our strategy.”
Soren looked up at Mount Stagnum and tried to figure out how they would get up it. Now that they were ready to climb it, it looked much taller. For about two hundred feet, it was covered in a forest of dark, strangely shaped trees that swayed and bent in the wind. At one point, the forest simply ended, and the rest of the mountain was bare, without even a bush to decorate its desolate peak. It became much steeper at that point, and looked much harder to climb.
After a few minutes of thinking, Soren said, “We’ll start there.” He pointed to a spot at the foot of the mountain. Then he knelt down and drew a line in the dirt with his finger. “We’ll go up this way. If you look closer you’ll see that there aren’t as many obstacles through there.” He drew more lines, describing each one. “We’ll go up there…around there…and then once we get out of the forest, I’ll figure it out. Maya, your job is to clear a path for us. You’ll be the one who gets rid of branches and rocks and makes it easier for us.”
“I’m the one who’ll prevent us from falling off the mountain,” said Maya. “That’s always good.”
For a moment the three of them stood in silence. Planning was all well and good, but actually climbing it…Soren and Nathaniel looked at each other nervously. Then Nathaniel said, “Hey-where’s Maya?”
“Hello!” they heard someone say. Looking up, they saw their sister waving at them. She’d already started up the mountain. The two boys grinned and followed her.
It was dark in the forest, and cold. The trees were strangely shaped, and swayed and bent in the cold wind that blew through their branches, ruffling the boys’ hair and causing them to pull their cloaks tighter around their shoulders. An owl hooted in the distance, but other than that, there was no sound. Leaves crackled under the princes’ feet as they hurried to catch up with their sister.
When they found Maya, she was leaning against an old oak tree, waiting for them.
“This place is strange,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure why she was whispering-there was no one there to hear her, save for Soren and Nathaniel. “Let’s hurry through, okay?”
Her brothers nodded. The three teenagers set off through the woods.
For the first two hundred feet, their plan worked well. Maya went first, clearing away bushes and cobwebs and kicking away rocks, trying to clear a path for her brothers, who followed after her. She was too far away for them to see, but every once in a while they would hear her call to them: “Huge rock up ahead!” or “Be careful, there’s a hole to your right!”
After about an hour of this, the forest abruptly ended. Now, there was not even a bush to decorate the mountain’s rocky terrain. There were no signs of life at all, not a bird or even a spider. It was as if the mountain itself had died.
The three siblings sat down together at the edge of the forest and tried to make themselves comfortable on a large rock.
“What’s so special about this Cup, anyway?” grumbled Nathaniel, taking off his boot and shaking it. A torrent of rocks poured out.
Soren’s eyes took on a reverent gleam as he said, “It’s the Cup of Life. Legend has it that whoever drinks from it will be blessed with uncommonly long life. I could be King for a hundred years with that cup!”
“So why is everything around here so dead?” wondered Maya.
“It probably doesn’t work on anything other than humans,” said Soren, who sounded annoyed that she doubted the power of his Cup.
“Oh, no,” said Nathaniel. “I don’t think this Cup thing is a good idea.”
“Why not?” said Maya.
“Soren with an uncommonly long life? We’ll never be rid of him!” Nathaniel and Maya both laughed.
Soren scowled and stood up. “We’d better get going,” he said.
“Yes, if we want to find your precious Cup,” said Maya, still chuckling.
Soren turned and stalked away, muttering to himself.
“I think we’ve offended him,” said Nathaniel.
A few minutes later they were back in their original formation: Maya leading, trying to make the way up easier for her brothers, who followed behind. This time, the going was much harder. Several times Soren or Maya would slip on a rock, and Nathaniel, whose feet were nimbler, would struggle to catch them. Once, Maya’s foot got stuck in a hole, and her brothers had to catch up with her and pull her out. And still there was no sound other than their breathing.
After what seemed like hours, they were almost at the top. They could see the very top of the mountain now, and-was it possible?-a glint of gold.
“Nathaniel,” Soren said. “This is when you prove that you’re not a complete loser. You’re going to run up, grab the Cup, and bring it down to us. Are you ready?”
Nathaniel straightened. “Yes,” he said. “I am ready.”
Then he was off. He ran straight up the mountain, avoiding rocks and pebbles that would send him crashing down. His feet were fast and his legs were strong after years of dancing when his father wasn’t looking. Wind blew in his hair as he ran higher and higher. He was going to get it! He would get the Cup of Life!
Down below him, Maya and Soren cheered. They were standing on a steep ledge that jutted out of the mountain at a strange angle.
“Go, Nathaniel!” Soren yelled. “You can do it!” He watched his brother run. Their plan had worked perfectly. All three of them had worked together to complete their fathers’ quest. Everything was going great.
And then, in that moment, Soren’s foot slipped. Terror jolted through him as he scrambled to find something to hold onto. He was slipping off the ledge fast. “Maya!” he yelled. But by the time she turned around, Soren was hanging onto the ledge by the tips of his fingers.
Maya tried to grab him, but he had already fallen.
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