The Boy and The Man - Offer R (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📗

was a ghost, and even the prince himself couldn't detect the slightest trace of him. Some believed The Boy was escaping from his past and didn't wish to be found. But the prince believed that he'd gone to correct himself and that one day he'd return to where he belonged.

There had been many nights throughout that time in which they'd sit together outside the palace and speak of him. They both had engraved on their minds such sweet memories of him that if he were suddenly to appear in the darkness, they would embrace him and shower him with love so deep that it would drown all of his lies. Every time a memory of him was evoked between them, they would each secretly wish that this time he would really come back. But he never did.

A week before the wedding, when there wasn't a living soul in the kingdom that wasn't aware of the exact day, place and time in which the ceremony would take place, the prince sent a messenger to The Boy's home with the purpose of extending personal invitations to the whole family and perhaps getting word of his whereabouts. Alas, The Boy's mother was barely better informed than the prince. She'd received an undated letter from her son several weeks earlier informing her that he was well and had found his place. He'd asked her neither to worry nor to search for him, and she did her best to oblige. To The Boy's mother his disappearance was an even greater mystery, as the reason for his escape from the palace had been kept in the dark. Aside from the prince, the future queen and the Chief Investigator, nobody in the kingdom knew the truth while everyone in the kingdom knew at least ten different rumors by heart.

And still, our faithful prince believed that The Boy would show up for the wedding. A single glance, perhaps a smile, would make it the perfect day.

No sooner had the deep chime of the bell that indicated midday echoed through the courtyard that the royal carriage rumbled through a narrow path that ran down the middle of the courtyard and halved the crowd. It was an open carriage whose riders were in plain sight, and the crowd went wild to the sight of the young royal couple. It was a perfect opportunity for the people to demonstrate their profound gratitude to their brave and noble prince. To their future queen they showed their acceptance of having a woman who was once their equal designated to become their ruler.

The previous time so many people in the kingdom had assembled to gather was a celebration of victory at war; today it was a celebration of love. Hundreds of roses, violets and lilies were flung at the carriage by the crowd, so that by the time it reached the monument Aphrodite's dress wasn't a pearly white but a mélange of colors.

The king, the queen, and Aphrodite's parents were already waiting at the altar, as is the case in most weddings of common mortals. Their mutual blessings, and especially the queen's blessing to her successor, provoked a tremendous amount of excitement in the audience and was therefore done theatrically as previously agreed. It was impossible to impose silence on the enormous crowd until the pastor raised his hand and began to rehearse a special sermon he'd composed for the great occasion. But despite his best efforts his words had little impact on the collective memory of the grand event, and even less so on the lovers. It was only when the ceremony reached the stage of the wedding vows that anything worthy of having words written to describe it took place.

It began with the pastor's usual rehearsal of the age-old format that every girl dreams of in her romantic youth days. But sometimes very sweet dreams can divert instantaneously to the realm of nightmares, and this was just one of those times.

You see, there was one man in the giant sea of people that didn’t share the fervor of his surroundings. In fact, he couldn't bear to watch the ecstatic smiles on the young royal couple's faces. Not after everything he'd suffered. Not after he'd been stripped of his dignity while the prince basked in the king of glory that he used to have. He'd waited long for the right time to take his revenge, and he seethed with anticipation as the exact moment drew near. It was his only purpose in having arrived at the courtyard the previous night: to turn the tears of happiness in Aphrodite's eyes to tears of mourning. Mourning for her dead prince.

This vengeful man with his evil intentions was a large man that blended in well with his audience. He had a rather famous face, which if it was recognized would foil his entire scheme so he'd put together a carefully composed disguise. To the rest of the audience, who were too fascinated by the proceedings around the monument to realize any minor aberrations around them, this man was just another zealous commoner with a very peculiar style. His wide-brimmed hat, the scarf around his neck and the smock that hung low over his entire body, were a strange ensemble but just short of suspicious. He was sure to have worn an especially loose-fitting smock so that neither of the hilts of his two swords would bulge from underneath. He'd secured a very good location right behind the parked carriage so that his view of the ceremony was obstructed but more importantly, he would be able to strike almost at once when the time was right. He listened closely with his sharp ears as the vows neared the point at which he'd imagined his surprise revenge take place. Finally, after almost three years of waiting, it arrived:

"If anyone knows any reason why these two should not be wed, let him speak now, or forever hold his peace", rang the pastor's baritone voice, after which there set in a sweet silence. The vengeful man had heard this silence in his dreams and in his fantasies ever since word of the intended marriage had reached his distant ears. Thousands of mouths remained sealed and the moment was prolonged. To them it was the conclusion of a momentous event in the history of the kingdom; to our vengeful man it was the prince's final moments of happiness. Just before the pastor continued, he broke the silence with a rough, hateful exclamation:

"I do!"

A low murmur of confusion rose over the courtyard like a screen of smoke from a giant fire. Everyone was aching to find out who the brazen man was and what justification he had for committing such a vile act tantamount to blasphemy and worthy of the capital punishment. Meanwhile our avenger took advantage of the general confusion and of his superb location, slunk behind the carriage and emerged on the altar right behind the groom. So great was the confusion in the crowd and the desire to solve the mystery that the avenger made his short journey unnoticed and only when he stood behind the prince with his sword drawn did his presence strike the audience. Had he been any less honorable than he was, he should've thrust his sword straight through the groom's fine silk jacket and declared his revenge on the spot. But we've already learned that soldiers often have their own codes of conduct which they adhere to as though they were part of some esoteric religion, and this was why the prince's perfect wedding suit remained unstained for the moment.

"Hello, Prince Conan", the avenger said sharply, and our prince whipped around violently enough to hide the chills that shook his spine at the sound of those words. By the tone of his persecutor's voice he recognized him, and he recognized the mortal danger he was in. A wild panic gripped the crowd and several members of the Guard scrambled to action, but the avenger signaled with the tip of his sword resting on our prince's chest that should they attempt to intervene, the prince's death was a certainty.

"Stay back!" The prince ordered his loyal Guardsmen, who complied and kept a distance from the altar. Then he turned to the man who with a jerk of his arm could end his life.

"Dansalot!" He grunted fiercely. We already know that our prince didn't cower in the face of danger, and at present he showed no fear in the face of certain death. But what one shows is often at odds with what one feels, and for our prince not to have sensed a surge of fear his heart would've had to be made of stone. And prince Conan's heart wasn't made of stone, but of gold.

"I'd promised you we'd meet again. Great swordsmen always stay true to their word", said Dansalot drily, tossing his hat to the ground carelessly.

"Yes, even the most ignominious ones", our prince muttered. "Why are you here?"

A certain halo formed around the two great commanders, which seemed to detach them from their environment. This halo wasn't lost on a single pair of eyes among the thousands watching with consternation, so that even on the altar everyone was a passive viewer.

"I've waited long for this day, my friend. After our little encounter down at the valley I was ridiculed in my kingdom. My soldiers rebelled against me and eventually, as I'm sure you know, I lost my station in the Guard. Everywhere I turned I was reminded of my humiliation; a humiliation that was nothing but an underhanded ruse played by an unscrupulous coward! The people lost their respect for me, and I could no longer bear the shame. I left the kingdom, but news of my defeat had infiltrated every army in the region. I could only be installed as a common soldier- a common soldier! I, Dansalot, feared Captain of the Capital Guard! No, I couldn't find peace there. There was only one way for me to redeem myself, and it is the same way any victim of intentional injustice revives: he takes revenge against his abuser."

There were several cries of terror in the background, but the prince hushed them at once, knowing there was only room for two on stage.

"So this is your redemption? Taking revenge against an unarmed man on his wedding day", our prince scorned even more audaciously. Let's not forget, however, that the more audacious he seemed on the outside, the greater the fear in his heart. He knew Dansalot better than anyone else present, and thus he thought with greater certainty than anyone else's that Dansalot was going to make good on his intentions. As a consequence there was nobody in the kingdom who was as urgently gripped by fear at the moment as our prince.

"No. Do you truly have such low esteem for me?" Dansalot replied with a haughty chuckle. But he didn't leave much time for the audience to get their hopes up, and immediately clarified his statement. He used his left hand to slide the second sword under his smock out of its sheath. Then, without distancing the edge of his the first sword from our prince's chest, he handed him the second one.

"Like I said, I've come to see that justice is done between us. To take you by surprise would be a cowardly act. But this? This is a fair fight between two princes and swordsmen. Take the sword, order your party back and show your people who you really are", Dansalot said. The finality of his proposal sent chills down our prince's back, and he knew he hadn't a choice.

"Everybody clear the ground", he instructed drily.

"For Heaven's sake!" Cried his future wife. "Why would you fight this madman? I'll fight in your place if need be, but I can't bear to see you cross swords with him. There must be another way, my love! " Aphrodite was the only one in the audience who was aware of our prince's still-lacking