The Hill-King's Bride: an Allegory for the Modern Church

Waiting

Hidden in the shadows, a member of her tribe, one she didn't recognize, waved to her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying not to draw attention to her fellow tribesman.

"Keeping watch over you," he replied in kind. "The Hill-King hears your calls. Stay strong, Princess. We're preparing to free you, once and for all."

"I'll be waiting," she promised with renewed courage. "Tell my betrothed I'll be ready when he comes."

The watcher chuckled. "He knows. Word is, they had to physically restrain him, the first time he heard you call. Though you cannot hear, he answers, every time. He's taken to sitting on the top of the fortress morning and evening, waiting to hear your voice."

Maple looked at him but didn't dare ask what was on her heart. "He's healing from the attack still," the watcher explained quickly, "but we're preparing to come get you. As soon as he can, he's coming." With that, he melted back into the shadows, higher up the hill where the others wouldn't see him. After that, Maple looked for those who kept watch and saw them more times than not.

Maple worked quietly and didn't make any more overtures to the girls after that, though she was polite and kind to them if they spoke to her. She continued to call out to her beloved king, morning and night, even though she knew it would spark retaliation from her guards. Just the knowledge that he could hear her, that he was listening to her and anticipating hearing her voice gave her the courage and will to continue.

"Why do you do that?" asked one of the girls one day when Maple was rubbing her jaw, after she'd been back-handed by one of the guards for calling out for the Hill-King. "My father says the Hill-King is dead."

Maple laughed out loud. "I'd know if he were dead," she informed them, thinking of the watchers hidden by the trees, who infrequently found ways to keep her abreast of news from the hills.

The oldest of her companions rolled her eyes. "Why is that?" challenged the maid, recently wed and pregnant with her first child. "Because of your love, you'd know it in your heart?" She made no attempt to hide her sarcasm.

"Because if he were dead," Maple replied pointedly, "my people would have overwhelmed this place and put every one of you to the sword by now. I sit on the council of elders, in my tribe. Obviously, he's preparing to come for me, so they've delayed."

The maids fell silent at that, shocked into silence by her blunt reply, so uncharacteristic of the girl they obviously still thought of as 'Gardener Howe'. "You know," Maple observed after a long, uncomfortable silence, "you should tell your High Elder to release me. Perhaps if he wrote a message of apology, I could carry it to the hills and prevent the valley from being attacked."

The following day, Maple noticed that the watch had been doubled and she was kept as close to the village as possible. Nobody called her 'Howe' after that day, either. The change continued, until none of the adult males were assigned by the village elders to work the land. Maple realized that they were preparing for the worst, having finally accepted the eventual consequences of their actions.

The hill-folk watchers could do little more than pop out from the shadows and wave briefly when Maple alone would see, but, the sight of whoever had chosen to be seen bolstered her spirits like nothing else could. The king would come for her. Maple simply had to keep faith that he would.

The change in the villagers was marked as well, following the doubling of the watch. They studied Maple with the same suspicion as usual, but also with a curiosity that was new. Few adults addressed her beyond any business of the day, but the youngsters could not be repressed in their curiosity. Since no one tried, Maple understood that the adults were as curious, and openly using the children to get the information they wanted.

"Maple?" a little girl asked as they weeded vegetables one day, "what is it like, in the hills?" Maple was partway through describing the view before she realized that the little girl had addressed her in Maple's own tongue. "But what about the people?" the little girl pressed when Maple fell silent, ignorant of the tears Maple tried so hard to hide from her small inquisitor.

Maple described what village life was like, the customs, celebrations and social structure. Part way through her narrative, punctuated by anecdotes and tales of the villagers and members of Maple's clan, Maple discovered that, a short distance away, someone else was quietly translating her stories for the other girls in the field.

"Now you tell me something," Maple suggested when she'd finished what she'd been saying. "If the elders here accept who I am, as they obviously do, then why have I not been returned with apologies? Why do they persist in keeping me prisoner here? I don't understand why they would risk a war with my people when it's unnecessary."

The maids around her had no answers. "Are you so sure your people will win?" an older girl scoffed instead of replying.

Maple shook her head. "I've seen your people, and I know mine," she reminded the girl. "The same must be asked of you, when I am so certain."

The little girl tugged on Maple's hand. "Maple, you didn't tell us about . . ."

She was interrupted by the older girl. "That's enough, Blossom. Go back to your section and weed." Maple held the little girl's hand long enough to pick a particularly nice strawberry and hand it to her with a wink.

The change in Blossom, by the small bit of kindness, was immediate. "I can work and listen at the same time," she stormed back. "And I want to hear about what people eat in the hills, since food won't grow there." As soon as she'd finished speaking, she popped the small fruit into her mouth. Maple chuckled and told her little friend about the foods her people ate.

"They eat meat?" Blossom's incredulous voice made Maple smile. "Everyone does?" Knowing that most meat was reserved for the elders as it was hard to come by in the agrarian society of the valley-dwellers, Maple understood. That evening, when Maple called to Bryn, a second voice piped up. "Bryn Ma'ar, I want to go, too!" Maple could only wonder why Blossom would want to forsake her family in favor of the hills.