Gadolor

Esthena

Shouts of joy sounded throughout the land. All Esthena rejoiced in the enemy’s defeat, the riches gained from the war, and a strengthened friendship with Astor. The two kingdoms had united in conflict, and now there were plans for union of a different kind.

Princess Entressa stood high in a castle tower, watching the bustle of people in the city market below. Her adventures began as waves of summer heat were rolling over Esthena’s capitol city, farmers’ crops were ripening, and anthills were scurrying to store food against the approach of autumn. She stood in that tower’s tiny dusty room and bounced a little on her toes, eager brown eyes watching the people swarm below, straining to hear snatches of speech. “The market is lively today!” she said to herself, “I can barely hear it. And what does it smell like? I must go down.”

With that, the girl leapt down the spiral staircase on light feet and descended to the castle’s ground floor. It took a moment to convince the steward to open the door, but once a soldier had been assigned to guard her, she was allowed to step out onto the street.

Immediately a donkey trotted close by her, hee-haw-ing a wheezy protest at the clamor. A barefoot boy was chasing a chicken between hurrying feet. By the castle wall a buyer was arguing, “Worthless!” while the seller insisted, “It’s a treasure!” Since during the war they had captured new trade routes, this city Esthen brimmed with commerce. Everyone was shouting or hurrying or both. When she caught her breath the smells reached her: dry straw, animal sweat, sharp pepper spice, manure, vegetables. The cacophony was enough to knock a person over, and Entressa hugged herself and grinned.

A man with a stringy goatee noticed her and called, “Hail, Princess!” and bowed low. She nodded to him appropriately, then hopped across the street to start exploring the market. The soldier used his elbows to make room for her.

“Your majesty,” another voice hailed. A woman sitting cross-legged was surrounded by jewelry and piles of cloth. She curtsied in her seat. “May health and wisdom find the house of King Austin! Please accept a gift for one of your maidens,” she held out a necklace inset with an amber-colored stone.

“Delightful,” Entressa received it and offered some money. The woman waved her hands, professing the joy of serving kind royalty. Entressa was used to this. “The king is only glad to share these blessings with—”

“Look out!” she cried. The boy had finally caught his chicken by diving on it in the middle of the road. Just then a two-horse wagon rounded the bend at a trot. Without a thought Entressa dove after the boy and rolled him out of the way. The wagon slowed, but the driver was distracted by an argument with his companion and drove on.

“Wow,” the little boy was gaping at Entressa with an open gap-toothed mouth.

“My lady!” exclaimed her soldier, running over. “You could have been killed. What possessed you?”

“He could have been killed,” Entressa rejoined as she helped the boy up, who continued to stare.

“As,” the soldier seemed to chew on his tongue, “Tragic as that would be, how much worse if you were hurt? Please, let us get away from the open street.” Entressa brushed the dust off her dyed linen dress a little guiltily and followed the soldier’s offered hand.

Farther into the market, she saw the glint of something bright flashing in the air, near the corner of a house. Someone was throwing things up, above the heads of people watching. She went to see.

It was such a display of skill and daring, and the juggler was standing so tall and smiling so wide, that Entressa laughed with delight. The young man stood on the street, juggling an array of objects high in the air, some of which looked sharp, while another man beat lively on a drum. When the act ended, each object landed neatly in the juggler’s hands, and he bowed as the watchers applauded. There were bowls, which he and the drummer held out to them. The people put money in; naturally, this was how these performers made their living. Entressa put in a whole silver coin. The juggler cried “Ah!” and winked at her when he saw it.

Entressa stayed and talked to him. “How do you juggle so well, jester?” she asked.

“Ah ha,” he bowed, “I ask the tricksy spirits to help me, and they carry the things when I throw them up.”

“Hmm. I think instead that you practice often and become very skilled,” she replied.

“I do that too,” the juggler said. “And what better way to earn the spirits’ help than to practice with their things? Sebastian knows this well.”

“Fine then, Sebastian. You juggle well, however you do it.”

“Thank you, your majesty princess. Your praise is like sunlight in my heart.” Sebastian bowed again and kissed her hand. Before he said this, she had supposed he didn’t know she was the princess, because he talked in a friendly way. But now she saw this was how he talked to everyone, even important people like herself. Entressa liked him at once.

“Is it fun juggling in the market?” she asked, “Do you do this every day?”

A grand smile passed over the performer’s face. “I juggle and dance and play many tricks that few people of the world have seen,” he said, “And I walk where my feet lead me, and never worry where I’ll rest my head.”

“And what if there are no people to see your tricks?” she asked, “Will you starve without someone to put money into your bowl?”

The cheerful juggler threw his head back and laughed. Normally, people didn’t do this when she had spoken, and the burst of merriment made her leap inside. “I’ll no sooner starve in the wilderness than in the city,” Sebastian said. “The bounty of the land is never far from my fingertips.”

Entressa decided to tease him, as it seemed he would enjoy it. “Your skills seem to have no end. I think you’d have to walk across the whole world to find one.”

He spoke gravely, though merriment was probably still under it. “So far, lady princess,” he said, “I have found no such end.”

That evening, Entressa dined with her father under the castle, in the cellar where it was cool. It was pleasantly damp and dark, with the rich smell of aged wood filling the room. Her father sat with bread at one hand and wine at the other, ignoring both for the moment, instead gesturing with his big hands. “These bandits in the West are only trouble,” he declared, “While my throne stands, I’ll have none their mischief.” King Austin was a burly man. His thick muscles matched his strong voice, and a dark beard fell over his chest. In recent years, silver had begun to tinge its edges. Entressa liked to watch it swing back and forth as he moved.

“I think they’re in league with the wild ones, whom King Lorind of Astor is facing,” he continued, “Just because we’ve fought a war, they think we’ve grown weary. We’ll see about that. I fought to keep justice in Esthena, and I will have my justice.” Austin heaved a great sigh and set an elbow on the table, rubbing his forehead. Candlelight reflected on his graven arm-band. “I’m sorry, my dear. I don’t know why I burden you with these thoughts. Our kingdom is safer than I make it seem.”

“I’m sure it is, Father,” Entressa said.

He blinked as if remembering something. “Were you stepped on by a horse today?”

“No,” she said truthfully, and resolved to avoid the soldier who had gone with her for awhile.

Austin shrugged. “The crown is a burden, my dear, more than even the barons know. We kings bear the weight of all our people—their happiness, their sadness, their hunger, their safety. I must pursue the injustice and stamp it out. If I fail my people, where can they turn?”

He looked up at her. “Of course, this will never fall to you, my daughter. The prince of Astor will carry the crown when he rules our two kingdoms, but you will be his queen. You will help him as no others can. Our proverb-tellers say a nation rises and falls by the wisdom of its queens.” Entressa nodded and under the table, lightly touched a scrape on her knee from that afternoon. Her father often talked like this. She was glad her father was so wise, though she wasn’t sure she would be a very wise queen.

Next day, in the afternoon, Entressa was walking in the palace garden when something caught her eye. There was a handful of objects sailing through the air beyond the wall, making regular arcs before dropping out of sight. With them came a cheerful, humming voice. Entressa walked to the base of the wall and stared up. A wooden spoon came into view then dropped out of sight, followed by a bowl and a little bag.

A lattice leaned against the wall, grown through with vines. Entressa glanced about the garden, smiling mischievously. She had learned to climb as a child, romping in the garden, evading her nurse. It was frowned upon for a grown-up princess to climb things. But right now, no one was watching.

Entressa kicked off her shoes so her toes could grip the lattice. She felt heavier than she remembered, and scrambling up was difficult with ankle-length skirts. But in a moment, she was sitting on the wall and leaning over.

The humming stopped when a smiling face met hers. Entressa laughed. “Sebastian!” she said, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see the princess,” he said amiably. “Our talk yesterday was delightful, and her beauty is inspiring. Tell me, lady, might you know how to find her?” He winked. What a cheeky character, she thought.

Entressa decided to play along. “Well, I might,” she said, rolling her eyes girlishly, “But I’m not sure she’ll want to see you. She’s very busy, and she’s the princess after all.”

Sebastian had been leaning against the wall, looking up at her backward. Now he caught all the things he was juggling and faced her. “She’s missing the fun, but I guess that makes sense. After all, the princess is in high demand. She’s betrothed to marry the northern hero, Prince Andel!”

People were constantly talking about this, but it always caught her by surprise. Sebastian continued, “Everyone I meet is singing songs about it. Have you heard?” For some reason, Entressa was left without the nerve to keep playing this little game. But she didn’t need to say anything, for the juggler was moving off. “If you see her, tell her I came and wanted to see her face again.

“And,” he paused, turning back, “I’ll come again tomorrow, in case she’d like to talk.” Then he left.