The Sword of Darrow (8 page)

“Sometimes our lives are guided by a larger hand. Sometimes the paths we travel are not ours to choose. Hear me, child. Go!”

“I won’t,” Babette whispered, stunned by Thor’s strange words. But Thor did not hear her reply, for as she spoke, Principeelia began to sing.

This time, the tiny bird changed her song. Her low whistle took on a slow rhythm, haunting and strange.

Suddenly, Babette was silent. Without the slightest expression, she rose to her feet.

All questions, all fears, and all concerns disappeared from Babette’s mind. All that remained was the song, a song that called her forward. Principeelia was outside the doorway, inviting Babette outside.

Babette turned without speaking. She gathered some bread and an apple and folded them into a blanket. Thor took his old coat and wrapped it over her shoulders.

For a moment she paused. She leaned down and, almost mechanically, gave Thor a short hug. She stepped outside and did the same to Moakie, who could sense that she was leaving and tried to follow. But Babette turned her head and did not look back. Confused, Moakie remained still.

The bird, still singing, fluttered slowly down the trail, pulling Babette in her wake.

For two days and two nights, Babette walked across the mountain trails, unaware of the world around her. No danger of any kind crossed her mind. She felt no hunger or weariness. On the third day, Babette entered the treeless plain, still guided by Principeelia’s song. She didn’t speak a word and slept very little, only a few hours before each sunrise. Along the way, she found fruit and nibbled at the bread she carried in her blanket. All thoughts of family and Thor and Moakie and her new life had fled from her mind.

On the fifth day, she walked into the dreaded Hexenwald Forest. With calm and steady steps, she continued, her mind lost in the little bird’s song and the magic of a wizard who waited at her journey’s end.

Not far into the forest, she found a basket with bread and cheese, and she finally stopped to eat and rest. When Babette rose to her feet, Principeelia led her through a forest so dense that the sun was blocked by the trees. One day into the forest, she came to a stream, where she stopped and drank deeply. She followed the stream until she came to a huge tree, a bififilous tree that towered above the rest of the forest. From there, she left the stream and veered from the trail onto a smaller path that climbed high into the hills. Thorns tore at Babette’s clothes. Her feet were bruised and covered in cuts and scratches, but she felt no pain. She did not tire. She uttered not a sound.

At the end of the sixth day, she suddenly felt cold. She looked down and saw she was standing in a stream. She collapsed into the shallow current and drank deeply for a long time. When she lifted her head, she saw a cabin. In front of the cabin stood a small round man with a bald head and bushy eyebrows. Something about this man told Babette that she was safe, for glowing in his face there appeared to be the hope and peace of the entire world.

“My princess,” he said softly. “You are a brave little girl who is surely tired from this journey. Come inside and rest.”

All at once, Babette was overcome with fatique and her body crumbled toward the ground. But the wizard reached out his hand and when she touched it, Babette felt love and kindness that gave her strength. She pulled herself to her feet and stumbled into the cabin.

Inside, Babette fell into a chair. Principeelia landed on the table and collapsed on her side, no longer able to stand. The wizard looked at Principeelia and spoke.

“You are a gallant heroine, my little bird, but do not sleep so soon.”

At that moment, the sound of another Annisan serenader filled the cabin as a handsome male bird lit on the windowsill and launched into song. Principeelia looked upward, unable to find her feet. But her prince was a patient suitor. He dropped to the table and stepped sprightly in circles around Principeelia, repeating his song.

For a long time, Principeelia could only look. But her prince did not waver. She found her feet, clumsily at first, but with growing strength. Struggling, her wings fluttered and she entered the air as her suitor circled with dips and spins that Principeelia could not return. Then she found her voice. As she fluttered clumsily, she returned his song and the two joined together in a stirring chorus of joy. The male bird flew through the window. Principeelia hesitated, looking back at Babette and then at Asterux.

Babette blinked and her bird was gone.

W
hen Babette awoke, she found herself on a bed in a room filled with strange and magical objects, each more wondrous than the next.

From the ceiling hung models of stars, planets, clouds, birds, butterflies, and creatures that Babette had never imagined, much less seen. One of these was a round creature, covered with spiny hair, with circular wings and eight short legs that swayed in the breeze. Unfortunately, it hung directly above Babette’s bed. When Babette awoke, the bright red eyes of this creature were the first things she saw. She screamed and pulled the blanket above her head.

Asterux was there in an instant with reassuring words. “Don’t be fearful. It’s only a stuffed koowik! She can’t hurt a thing.”

Babette pulled down the blanket only slightly, inspecting the kindly wizard. His eyes, tiny and almost lost in his large face, twinkled brightly. What made him smile so, Babette could not possibly imagine. She lowered the covers and pulled herself up.

“Where am I? And who are you?” she asked, now glancing back at the koowik with a sly smile.

“I am Asterux, Your Highness. I stand here in your service and that of your kingdom.” Asterux gave a great bow. “You are at my cabin, deep in the Hexenwald Forest. I am a wizard and you have been sent here for protection.”

Babette looked concerned. “Are the goblins still after me? Can they find me here?”

“The goblins will never find you, my princess,” he replied, his eyes sparkling again.

“How can you know?”

“Because when they find you—if they find you—it won’t be you they find.”

Babette blinked. Asterux made no sense, but Babette was so distracted by her surroundings that she barely noticed.

“What will I do here?” she asked, eyeing the ceiling with interest.

“My dear, you have powers that you do not know. One day, you will walk out of this cabin and into the forest and undo the goblin rule.”

Babette’s heart sank. Battles and kingdoms again!

“And how will I do all that?” she asked, annoyed to be reminded once more of that awful crown.

“My dear, you are about to learn the wizard’s trade.”

Babette’s eyes grew wide and for the first time a little smile emerged. Magic. That could be fun.

“For a time, you will be my student. I have no magic to give you, for these powers can neither be given or taken from you. But I can help you find what is within your own reach. Those skills can shape the world around you, as the world around you has shaped you. It will be the hardest work you have ever imagined. It will require patience and perseverance you may not imagine you possess. But we only have a short time, so we must start quickly. ”

“How long do we have?” asked Babette.

“Merely ten years,” replied the kindly wizard.

“Ten years!” exclaimed Babette. “That’s hardly a short time at all! That’s a lifetime!”

“And like a lifetime, it shall pass in what will seem like the blink of an eye,” replied the wizard. “Now come with me.”

She turned and looked straight into Asterux’s eyes.

“No magic is going to make me a queen.”

“Did you consider, my dear, that you may already be the queen, whether you like it or not?” Asterux asked with a smile. He stared hard at Babette’s face. “Before we go, I’m afraid we need to make some changes.”

Before Babette could fully consider those words, the room went dark. From the darkness exploded a display of tiny lights as dazzling as the stars in the heavens. Babette covered her eyes against the brightness. Slowly at first, but with increasing speed, the room began to spin. Babette sank to the floor, burying her face against her knees, and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs.

As the room reached a terrifying speed, the princess wondered if the cabin might be launched high into the sky, never to grace the earth again. A great hum echoed in her ears; above the hum, she could hear a voice—Asterux’s voice—chanting, almost singing, strange words she could not understand.

Those words were followed by a thunderous noise that shook the cabin and bounced Babette into the air. Before she landed, the room exploded in a final flash of lights. Darkness followed by. The room was quiet.

When the princess opened her eyes, the first thing she saw were toes. They were fat, thick, and short. She was about to laugh at whoever had such ugly toes, until she realized that they were connected to
her
feet. She raised her hand to touch her hair and found that it was coarse and inky black. Her fingers, also stubby and short, touched her face and found a new nose, long and pointed, a bit crooked and surely quite ugly.

“A witch,” thought Babette. “He has made me a witch! He is not kind at all!”

Asterux interrupted her thoughts.

“The goblins will search every inch of the forest for Princess Babette. But they will never look for Sesha, the young gypsy girl.”

The wisdom of Asterux’s plot began to dawn on her.

“Sesha. A gypsy girl.” Babette grew delighted at the thought. A sly smile crossed her face. Before she could say a thing, Asterux was walking through the door to the next room.

“Come, Sesha, we have work to do.”

Babette paused for a moment, then she hopped to her feet and paused again.

“Asterux.”

“Yes, my dear?”

“There is something you must know. Perhaps I can never learn magic at all. I cannot read.” She searched Asterux’s face, wondering if he would change his mind about teaching her.

Asterux smiled at the princess. He already knew.

“My dear, you don’t have to worry at all. You will not find this magic with your eyes. You will find it in your heart.”

The princess followed him to the next room, leaving the name Babette behind.

O
n Sesha’s windowsill lay a moonflower seed—the same moonflower seed that had been there for four years. Sesha sat in a chair, staring at the seed, just as she had done every day for four years, as she tried—and failed—to find the power to open the seed.

The power, as Asterux explained, came not from strange potions or mysterious powders. It had little to do with words, although more difficult magic would require a language she did not yet know. This magic was different. It was a power Sesha would have to discover inside the deepest recesses of her soul.

To begin her search, Asterux offered a simple instruction.

“Remember all those who treated you with kindness and love. Remember their deeds, each of them. Consider them. Cherish them. And from those deeds, you will find a power within.”

Indeed, this task was easy, for in the life of a princess there are many such deeds to remember. Through Sesha’s mind passed a grand parade of people who lived in the palace and who, eager to please, had helped her, praised her, and encouraged her. For many weeks, she thought of these deeds and they made her feel good. She thought of Thor, who had saved her life, cared for her, and sent her to live with Asterux in the forest. She thought of her mother, who always understood that she was not like the others and protected her from the king. She thought of Hugga Hugga, the great but kindly Minotaur who gave her rides as a child. She thought of Asterux himself. And when she thought of these things, she felt a glow inside and that glow made her strong.

The next step was harder.

“Sesha,” Asterux told her, “now you must think of all those who have hurt you, who have given you small offenses, and who have caused you annoyance, and worse, pain. You must consider them all. You must understand them. You must understand the weaknesses and hardships that gave rise to their deeds. Then you must care for them. You must love them. And when you are able to love them, you must forgive them.”

Sesha had lived the life of a princess. Who at the palace would risk bringing harm or insult to a young royal? So the annoying deeds were few, and Sesha wracked her brain to remember them. There was an episode with her brother, Prince Keanu. She had stolen his crown and hidden it behind a dung heap in the stables. When he found out, he painted her name on the wall of the cathedral. The king knew exactly who did this or so he thought. He raged at Babette and punished her severely.

But forgiving Keanu was easy. The whole matter was her fault from the start. So she thought of the goblins who tried to catch her in the meadow and she forgave them, but that was easy because they did not know her and were merely doing their jobs. Catching her would make them heroes, and Sesha could easily imagine herself in their place.

After much searching, she could find no more, so she went to Asterux.

“No one insults a princess. I have endured few hardships or wrongs. I can forgive the small deeds, but the forgiveness is too easy. There is no power from that.”

Asterux thought for a long time.

“I had not considered this problem. But you are right. Not having these small offenses will make your next challenge even harder. You will have to find strength for the final step. Think of your greatest pain in your life, think of its source, think of the one individual above all others whose wrongs have hurt you in a deep and lasting way. Consider him, understand him, and forgive him.”

So Sesha went back to her room and she immediately thought of the goblin, the executioner, who had held the sword on the balcony as her family awaited their fate. When she thought of this goblin, she felt hatred.

How could anyone, even a goblin, raise a sword above her family before a cheering and heartless army? How could she possibly love or forgive this creature? No matter how she tried, she failed.

After months of trying, with no success at all, she went to Asterux and told him that her magic would never come. But Asterux was nothing if not patient and spoke these words: “What brings someone to commit acts of violence? Understand the life that stands behind their terrible deeds. Understand the burdens those deeds become. And if he bears no shame, pity him all the more because he has lost the goodness that is the true magic of life itself. Search your heart. Look deeper. It is there. And when you find it, you will find compassion and understanding, even for the executioner.”

For months, Sesha thought of the goblin with the sword. She thought what it must be like to lift a sword to take the life of another—perhaps each and every day. She wondered what lived inside of him and what must have surely died. She felt his emptiness and it felt painful. And then it made her sad. She realized that somehow, in some way, this creature had been robbed of kindness, affection, and love, and that grief was the first step on the path to forgiveness. In her imaginings, she saw cruelties and humiliations and wondered, though she could not know, which of these had befallen the executioner and stolen from his soul. The more she imagined, the sadder she became. She grieved for all that he must have endured. She ached for what he had lost. From her sadness, she began to understand that he was indeed as much a victim as her own family. From this understanding, she found love. And then, after months of struggle, she forgave him.

Her forgiveness stirred a new power inside her. A deep goodness stirred in her body. It was strong. It was hopeful. With this new power, she turned to open the seed. She felt a surge inside of her. Her body shook with energy. With all her might, she focused on the seed that had stood motionless on the windowsill for four long years.

The seed still did not open.

She slumped in her chair, her body still trembling and covered with sweat. She rose, ran to Asterux, and fell to the floor before him.

“I am not good enough,” she cried. “I will never find the power. Why can’t I just say chants or use magic potions?”

“There are many magics, my dear,” Asterux responded. “There are magics that rise from old texts and languages no longer spoken in this world. There are potions, chants, and spells that trade power for possession of the soul. But these are the magics of evil. The magic of the good is different.” Asterux paused. “And far more powerful as well.”

“But I have forgiven and no magic has come.”

Asterux spoke slowly and gently.

“Perhaps, my dear, you have not forgiven all.”

Days later, Sesha stared at the seed and searched through the memories of her life. When she could not find that person—the one who caused her the greatest pain—she laid her head on the table and wept once more.

In this sadness, her memories wandered. She saw her father. Red-faced and raging, angry at Babette’s endless antics, he exploded in a tirade against his young daughter, whose pet snake had almost been swallowed by the visiting king.

“You are unworthy of this kingdom! The fate of every man, woman, and child of this kingdom rests with this family to which you belong. Do you know what that means? What if our kingdom is forced to turn to you in search of a queen? What will they find? A lowly girl unworthy of the crown!”

Though this moment was years ago, the king’s ferocious eyes burned in Sesha’s mind. She arose and left the room.

“Father was right,” thought Sesha. “I am not worthy even to live here in Asterux’s home.”

The next day, Sesha sat in her room and thought of her father again. Her remembrance of his harsh words, so often delivered, drove her deeper and deeper into despair.

Memories rolled by. He was standing before his subjects, thousands of them, at the gates of the palace and he spoke with beautiful words of kindness and love. But he found no such words for her, for she was not worthy.

Another memory emerged. She had entered a room and found him alone. He was seated, slumped forward, his head in his hands. When he heard her, he looked up. She jumped back, fearing his rage. But what she saw in his face was not anger but a deep sadness.

“Babette,” he said, “if I have failed you, if I have failed our kingdom, please forgive me. A king, your father, is only a man.”

An advisor entered the room and whispered something to the king. The king stepped out onto the balcony. There, standing before him, was the army of Sonnencrest, ready to depart for the forest to defend their land. His words betrayed none of his doubts.

His voice boomed out over the army, “The fate of our kingdom rests in your hands. Some say that a terrible destiny lies ahead. But goodness is always the greater force. Our own courage, fortified by virtue, is a mighty power. Darkness can never withstand the power of the sun. As you leave this city to do battle in the forest, know that the force of evil can never vanquish the good. We will drive these goblins from our land.”

With those words, a great cheer erupted and the soldiers, confident and inspired, marched away to meet their foe. Stepping back into the palace, the king’s sad face returned and he went to his study to be alone.

It had been a long time since Babette had thought of that moment. It had confused her at the time. Now, four years older, she saw her father in a new way. She saw in his life a loneliness she had never realized before. She saw the weight of the kingdom pressing down upon him. She understood for the first time that every citizen, in some way, depended upon him for their well-being, their livelihood, and their freedom itself.

As she thought of these things, his harsh words took on a different meaning. His words were meant to prepare her. She was never meant to wear the crown, but the crown might find her nevertheless. That her father never understood her could not matter. His job was to make her ready to rule.

Suddenly, a new idea raced through her mind.

“Perhaps his words were painful to him as well. Perhaps he understood her better than she knew. Perhaps he was never free to love me as I am.”

From these thoughts came a new understanding of the man who had towered over her life. From this understanding, she found a new love for her father. As she did, she felt a powerful force grow inside her.

Her arms began to tremble and she climbed to her feet. More and more, the power grew until it surged with a force that she never imagined possible. With this power, her life passed before her and once again she forgave Keanu and the goblins in the meadow and even the executioner who danced across the balcony with his sword. At the end, she saw her father and the love she felt for him welled up from deep inside her soul. For a long time she trembled and shook until finally she fell to her bed.

An hour later she rose. She looked to the windowsill.

The moonflower seed had sprouted.