classes and teachers.
The week before the princes would meet their princesses in mid-October, Lucian was well used to his schedule. He already had favorite classes; he loved fencing and astronomy. However, he hated hunting and horsemanship. He was also not looking forward to the meeting with the princesses because Phillipa had just told them it would be a ride through the forest on their horses. It was humiliating enough riding in front of the other boys! Lucian wasn’t actually a bad horseman, but Zephyr made the lessons long and frustrating. It wasn’t helped by the fact that Kaelen always had perfect control of his horse and pointed this out frequently.
“If you would learn to control your horse like I do,” Kaelen said on their way to fencing Tuesday afternoon, “you wouldn’t be struggling to learn how to ride.”
“I know how to ride, Kaelen,” Lucian said sourly. “Zephyr’s just a free spirit. We haven’t become a team yet.”
Kaelen laughed in a superior manner. “You’re not supposed to be a team. You lead and it obeys. That’s the way it’s supposed to work.”
“Phillipa says we’re to work with our horse,” Adrian argued. “That means being a team.”
Kaelen cracked his knuckles menacingly. “Are you saying I don’t understand horsemanship?”
“Not at all,” Adrian replied. He leaned over to Lucian as Kaelen walked ahead of them. “Just that you don’t listen.”
Lucian nodded but didn’t reply. As the boys walked towards the castle for fencing, his thoughts turned from the horsemanship disaster to Monday afternoon’s botched hunting class. He recalled Diana Foxglove, their instructor, had been teaching them to use silent signals with their hounds. While difficult for the experienced dogs, Rusty couldn’t even follow spoken commands. The class period had been made worse by Kaelen kicking Rusty. Lucian knew it stemmed from a snide comment he had made about Kaelen’s dog. It had also given him his first experience with the witches; an experience he hoped he would never have to repeat. In vivid detail he remembered Diana, a slender fairy with brown hair and golden eyes, pulling out her wand and shooting a piece of black paper from the tip. It flew to the witches’ hovel and down the chimney. Within moments, a wild-looking figure approached them. Coming close behind was Calista Periwinkle.
“You called?” the witch asked in a hoarse whisper. She was wearing a ragged, deep purple gown. Her black hair was stringy and knotted as though it had never been brushed, except for a pure white strand near the front, which had been braided and was bound with a black leather strap.
“Yes, Morghana,” Diana said. “We’re having a little problem here.”
“What has happened?” Calista asked. She looked from Kaelen to Lucian as Diana explained the situation.
“Lucian has admitted his mistake and apologized,” Diana finished. “Kaelen has not.”
“It would seem to me,” Morghana said, turning to the two boys, “that Prince Kaelen needs a lesson in humility.” Lucian instinctively stepped back from the witch. Her eyes were sunken and the darkest brown while her skin was withered and pale. Rusty hid behind Lucian’s arm with a yelp. The witch smiled wickedly, revealing yellow teeth. “Step forward, Prince Kaelen.” When neither boy moved, Morghana cackled, “Very well. Prince Lucian, please step to Calista’s right side.” Lucian wasted no time obeying the witch. He was utterly terrified! Morghana turned to Kaelen and said in a mystic tone while holding up the cane she had walked up with, “No words shall you utter nor with pen record until your apology is made by action and word.” A violet light flashed from the knotted, wooden stick and wrapped about Kaelen’s mouth and hands. Kaelen opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. “You cannot speak, young prince,” she cackled. “The only words you can say will be, ‘I am sorry,’ and that only when you have shown that you are. This punishment will be as long or as short as you make it.”
The punishment hadn’t lasted very long. After a full day of silence and not being able to take notes or do homework, Kaelen had come to Lucian while he was playing out on the lawn with Rusty and put out his hand for Lucian to shake. He then scratched behind the puppy’s ears. In a pompous tone he had muttered, “I am sorry.”
Lucian was forced to return to the present as Raphael came into the room to start their fencing lesson. Raphael had a commanding voice and presence, his hawk-like eyes missing nothing that went on in his classroom. His long, golden-brown hair was neatly pulled back from his face in a ponytail that had been braided to prevent stray wisps getting in his face. Adrian believed it was so that he had a whip handy in case the boys got out of hand.
“What’s he need a whip for?” Lucian had asked when Adrian had voiced this concern. “He’s got a sword. He’s fast enough he could run us through and have the sword clean before any of us knew he was mad!”
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Raphael said. After a cacophony of response, he continued, “Please put on a mask and a shield then go with your partner to your exercise mat. Today we will be working on basic defense.”
Adrian and Lucian grabbed their gear before going to the far corner they worked in. Going to the sword rack, each grabbed his sword before taking their stance. They’d been working for a while when Adrian asked, “Why is it you can do all this stuff so easily and I’m struggling to figure it out?”
“Dad taught me when I was little,” Lucian replied. “As soon as he realized I was left-handed he started working with me using sticks, a wooden sword and teaching me to use a bow. Besides,” he continued as he lunged, “you’re getting better every day.”
“Yes you are, Adrian,” Raphael interrupted. “Please continue your exercise,” he said as the two startled boys stopped to look at him. They continued and he watched for a while before saying, “Class, I want everyone to come see how Lucian is handling his sword.” The boys gathered around the mat and Lucian felt himself blushing. Raphael looked at Adrian and asked, “May I borrow your sword?”
“Sure,” Adrian replied, handing his sword over to Raphael as they had been taught to do.
“Thank you, Adrian. You did very well passing your sword safely. Now, Lucian, I am going to attack and I want you to block. Everyone, I want you to watch his hands. Oh, here, turn to this side so that everyone can see. I’d forgotten you were left-handed. There we are. En garde.” Raphael began a slow attack. “Watch how he holds the sword. He has a firm grip and is in total control, but notice how his hand is light. He has easy movement throughout his hand making him a better swordsman. You must learn this kind of control. Clutching your weapon restricts movement. Barely holding it can lead to fatal mistakes. Such control is difficult to master, especially when you are left-handed in a right dominant world. Excellent work, Lucian. Everyone return to your mats.”
Lucian couldn’t help beaming. Praise was so rare for him in many of his classes. This was the one class in which he was undoubtedly the best; much to Kaelen’s chagrin. The fact that this class ended the day made it even better. He could carry the feeling of accomplishment on for the remainder of the day. Lucian was in total control in this class; he didn’t have to rely on other students or animals. He just had to rely on himself and his own skills. It also gave him one beautiful hour and half with no gloating from Kaelen since for once, Lucian was better at something. He couldn’t quite push away a smug feeling of pride as he watched a scowling Kaelen return to his mat with his partner.
By Saturday, Lucian truly dreaded meeting Moira. Between Adrian’s stories and the failed attempts to control Zephyr, Lucian was sure the day was going to be a complete catastrophe. When he woke up, he got dressed in his uniform and went downstairs for breakfast. Adrian was already in the dining hall enjoying toast and eggs. “Good morning, Lucian. Pull up a chair.”
Lucian sat heavily and began eating. “How long are we supposed to do this meeting thing?”
“Four hours,” Adrian replied.
“Lovely,” Lucian said sarcastically.
“Hey, look at it this way, after lunch it will be over. Best make do with it. I h
eard Kieffer tried faking sick to get out of seeing his princess. Tallia caught him easily enough though. She didn’t fall for the thermometer under the lampshade trick.”
“Isn’t Kieffer in his fifth year?”
“Sixth,” Adrian corrected. “If he doesn’t figure out how to get along with that princess of his, his quest is going to be difficult at best. Tallia sent for the witches after whatever it was he said about his princess. He might be in for quite a bit of ridicule from her.”
“I suppose somehow it could be worse.”
“Sure it could. It could be raining. Of course, if it were raining, we wouldn’t have to ride at all. Phillipa would have a conniption if we rode out in the rain.”
“I just want today to be over,” Lucian admitted.
He was interrupted from speaking further by Calista’s voice piercing the air, though she was not shouting. The two boys turned to see who she was talking to, as did everyone else in the dining hall. There in the entrance was Kaelen, his jacket dripping once again with medals. “Prince Kaelen, it is incredibly regrettable to me that you have been informed of the dress code and have still chosen to disregard it. Do not make the mistake in believing that you are the only prince here to have been recognized for something. We allow such recognition to be