Just a Boy
A short story
Six-year-old Aldwin chased an invisible enemy through Castle Dunvara’s Great Hall. Swinging an invisible sword, his full-throated “Surrender or else!” echoed off the castle’s stone walls when he collided with the king.
The King's gold and ruby scepter fell onto the stone floor, and his emerald and diamond-filled crown skewed to the side. He bared his teeth and snarled.
Aldwin’s mother, Goda, who was following behind, gasped, grabbed Aldwin by the back of the shirt, and yanked him toward her as if he were a fish on a rod. She curtsied deeply. “My Lord, I am sorry. Please forgive Aldwin. I will punish him.”
“You shall punish him.” King Leofwin picked up his scepter and drew his sword halfway out of its sheath. “I would punish the boy myself by taking his head if we weren’t in the middle of a war.” He flicked his arm, bellowed, “Out of my way!” and marched down the hallway with his entourage of four knights, chief advisor, and grand wizard.
The Next Day
Aldwin stood in the courtyard with his eyes closed, tossing stones at five rings of concentric circles carved in the dirt, landing a bullseye with a resonant thunk every time. He cast a squat shadow under the noon sun. The clanging swords and screams of fallen knights pierced the castle walls, but he only looked up from his game when his mother tapped his arm. “What are you thinking, Aldwin? There’s a war outside these walls. Come back inside.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. I was playing with magic and forgot all about the war.”
Goda and Aldwin had barely moved a quarter of a perch closer to the castle door when the king and grand wizard approached. “Boy!” the king shouted. “Why aren’t you crying from a beating by your parents?”
“My Lord,” the wizard said. “We have no time. We need to get you to safety. Castle Cwrden’s knights have breached the south wall!”
“Escape to where?” Leofwin stretched his arms out. “Cwrden is everywhere.”
“There’s a way,” Aldwin said, his thin voice almost inaudible among the notes of battle. “I know magic. I can hide you so that the enemy won’t find Your Majesty.”
The grand wizard narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps he can. The boy has shown promise with wizardry, but he’s still a boy.” He shook his head. “Alas, I have no sorcery that can save Your Highness. We should try his magic.”
Aldwin nodded. He knew he could protect the king. “But I can’t make magic on anyone who doesn’t want it because my magic isn’t powerful yet as I’m only six. You have to desire my spell,” Aldwin said.
“I want you to. You must cast your spell on me,” the king growled.
“I can make you appear like a bush so you can hide in the forest.”
The clamor of enemy knights rang closer.
“Do it!” Leofwin commanded.
Aldwin took the grand wizard’s moon-tipped wand and waved it as he spoke words from long ago, a primordial alluvium of lost languages. As he chanted, the air in the bailey shattered as if made of mirrored glass into which a rock had been thrown, reflecting light all around, momentarily blinding the eyes of the other children, vendors, soldiers, mothers, and everyone inside the castle walls. A green tornado spun around the king, gyrating him, too, and when the tornado stopped, the king was covered from head to toe with vegetation.
Olives filled the whites of his eyes, moss grew where his hair had been, one pink and one white hydrangea replaced his ears, and his flesh looked like mushroom skin.
“It worked,” the king said, his words muffled and mumbled because his lips were twigs and his tongue a poplar leaf.
“Run to the forest, my Lord,” the wizard said. “Go, go!”
Wobbling as he propelled himself forward on legs made of knobby branches, King Leofwin exited the castle through a secret door on the north side that led toward the forest, where he would be perfectly camouflaged.
The wizard turned to Aldwin. “For how long will he be a forest creature?”
He kicked the dirt and shrugged. “I don’t know how to undo spells. I’m just a boy.”
If you enjoyed this story, I think you’ll also like How to Slay a Monster.
Great job Bill. Enjoyed this. The King will be colorful in the fall but come winter, when the leaves drop...yikes. Haha. - Jim
I loved this line, Bill: “It worked,” the king said, his words muffled and mumbled because his lips were twigs and his tongue a poplar leaf." Poor King. Now crows will be nesting in his branches.