Upon A Time

Chapter Twenty-Two Part Two

“Then we must ride, with all haste. Have you horses?”

“A few, but as I said, you have mine, My Lady.”

“We must ride two upon one horse, then, and any others who may accompany us should follow on foot with all due haste.”

“Where are we going?” Etienne asked, “I will send a man on ahead to help to spread any word Your Ladyship may wish, to aid us in our endeavors to prepare for the eventual company from the Duke’s guard.”

“We are going to St. Fleur,” Charlotte said, and Etienne shook his head.

“Of all the tiny corners of our kingdom, never would I have imagined the Prince could be hidden there.”

“Let us hope you are not the only one.” Charlotte moved to dismount her steed, but Etienne instead gestured for her to move back a little. “If the Lady does not object, I would like to ride my own horse.”

The horse responded instantly to Etienne’s touch and voice; it was clear the animal was his.

“Of course, sir. Before we depart, I will give you word to spread, as far and wide, as you can.”

“What is the word?”

“That Prince Tristan lives,” Charlotte declared, her voice wavering with emotion. “In hiding, somewhere in the countryside.”

* * *

Morning dawned upon the village of St. Fleur, and Walter and Julien watched the sun rise as the last of the fire in the hearth burnt down to embers.

The younger man turned toward the older, speaking for the first time in hours.

“Still, I await your answer, sir. May I have your daughter’s hand in marriage? I offer all I am, all I have, and all I will have as king, to share with her as my partner, my wife, and my queen.”

“Can you have her hand?” Walter said, and with a sigh he rose from his chair and moved to stir the fire. “I will tell you what, young Prince. I give my blessing for you to have my daughter’s hand and her heart...” He turned, a twinkle in his eye as he added, “If you can catch them.”

Julien grinned, for the first time since Walter had met him. The motion tugged painfully at the scars on the left side of his face, but he was too happy to care. For the first time in his life, he had chosen to try for something he wanted, all on his own, and he could only hope whatever her feelings may be now, that in the end, he would be able to win Charlotte over.

“I hear the sound of a horse,” Walter said. He peered out the window and saw the elderly blacksmith, Rowan, approaching quickly upon a horse he did not recognize. “You had better hide, Julien.”

Julien rose upon his crutch and moved into the other room as quickly as he could, leaning toward the window to listen.

“What is it, Rowan?” Walter asked. “Is everything all right with your animals?”

“It is not the animals brings me here,” Rowan huffed as he struggled to get down from the horse. “It is word, upon the wind, only just reaching my ears. I wondered if you’d heard anything about it, Walter?”

“Word?” Walter blinked innocently. “I have heard no word. What is it you hear, old friend?”

“That Prince Tristan lives,” Rowan said, the joy and hope in his words mixed with equal parts worry and fear. “That he is in hiding, somewhere, and the Duke will soon seek him out. We must find him, Walter. He must be protected.”

“Are there others in the village who have heard this?” Walter asked, still not giving Julien’s presence in his own home away.

“Word has spread like wildfire from town to town in the dark of night, and the word was sent to me with a message from Thomas that only I would understand, so I know it must be true.”

“What was the word from Thomas?”

“The word exactly matters not, but the message was clear.” Rowan wrung his gnarled hands. “We must get ready, in case the Duke’s search party finds its way here, to St. Fleur.” He looked at Walter sideways. “You don’t suppose the Prince could really be here, somewhere?”

Walter gave him a look to try to convey he must be dreaming, and old Rowan chuckled at his own perceived foolishness. “Of course not. How could anyone hide the Prince in a town this small? They’d have to be a magician!” He struggled to get back on his horse, and Walter helped him up.

“What will you do now, Rowan?”

“I will take into my confidence anyone I trust who is left in this little town who knows how to wield a sword,” Rowan said, turning his horse away and preparing to go. “After all, if anyone should know who that is, it’s the blacksmith.”

Then he was gone, and Walter hurried back into the house. Julien met him in the doorway.

“It has begun,” Julien said, standing as tall as he could.

Walter’s eyes turned red. “May God protect you, Your Highness, should your loyal subjects fail in their duty.”

“They will not fail,” Julien affirmed, patting the old man on the shoulder. “Just as you and your family have never failed me for a moment, Walter, I entrust my fate into the hands of my people.”