Wood Nymph and the Cranky Saint- Wizard of Yurt - 2 Read Free

“I think Baby Buttons here is old enough to travel safely.”
    The castle without the queen in it would be even worse. “Why can’t your parents come visit us?” I asked.
    The queen laughed. “They visited here last year when their grandson was born. And you know they hate traveling. I think they got their fil six or seven years ago, going around the western kingdoms trying to find someone appropriate to marry me to—until I found someone myself r with a smile for the king.
    “I’m stil a little concerned about my garden,” said the king. “You know, I’ve never been away from the roses in June. Some of the bushes haven t bloomed yet, and I’m starting to worry about them.” The little prince looked up at me from his mother’s lap. He had startlingly bright emerald eyes, the same shade as hers. He gave an unexpected chortle. “Giz-ward,” he said.
    “Did you hear that?” asked the queen, so quickly that I almost wondered if he might not have said what had seemed so clear. “He just said ‘Wizard’!” In spite of the king’s concerns about leaving his rose bushes in June, the trip almost immediately became something for which the whole castle was preparing. The king and queen would travel with a relatively smal party: the baby’s nurse, the queen’s Aunt Maria, a few ladies, and a half dozen knights. The king was leaving his chaplain and me behind, although we had often accompanied him on short trips.
    “You’d be bored sily in two days,’ he told me with a conspiratorial smile. “The queen’s parents are very dear people, but ... besides, I trust you to keep an eye on Dominic.” Since they planned to be gone over a month, the king took the precaution of appointing his burly nephew as regent. Prince Dominic listened to the announcement without any apparent emotion. He merely nodded and slowly twisted the ruby ring he always wore on his second finger. The ring’s setting was a golden snake, with the jewel resting on its coils, and I had always felt it would be a much better ring for a wizard than for a prince. This regency, I thought, might be the closest Dominic would ever come to being king of Yurt, and I would have expected more reaction from him.
    I had sometimes wondered at Dominic’s calm acceptance of the birth of his young cousin. After al, the royal nephew had probably spent most of his life, until the baby was born, assuming he would someday be king. I wondered if he planned to revolutionize the running of the castle while the king was away and rather hoped he didn’t, for, if so, I might be the first to go.
    Less than two weeks after the king and queen first announced they were going, they were gone, riding off in the cool of the early morning accompanied by a fanfare of trumpets. Tne whole party rode white horses with bels on their harnesses.
    Everyone had come out to say good-bye and, for several minutes as the riders mounted, there was a great deal of laughing and caling final messages and instructions. The baby prince, riding in a pack on his nurse’s back, frowned at us al. Dominic alone stood stolid and dignified, as though already feeling the weight of his responsibilities and wanting to be sure we al knew it.
    The king reined in his horse just as they al started down the hil. “Be sure to cut the roses every day,” he told the constable. “As I already told you, it’s better to cut them in the bud than to have the blossoms al fade on the bushes.”
    “Yes, you already told me, sire,” said the constable respectfuly, but with a hint of an indulgent smile.
    ‘Al right, al right,” said the king, who did smile before hurrying to catch up to the rest.
    They reached the edge of the woods below the castle’s hil and disappeared from sight with a final ringing of harness bels. The morning suddenly seemed extremely quiet and extremely empty.
    “Wel, it looks like you’re in charge of the castle now, Prince Dominic,” I said to break the silence. “At least until the