The Pigkeeper's Daughter

Build-a-story 10/22/11
Story Elements:
Some kind of orphan “monster”
A pet pig, that can talk!
A red-haired, magic producing female (a good one)

The flames crawled up the stack toward me, licking closer every moment with their hot tongues, the expression of the thirst for my blood that had been building in this tiny hamlet over the last week.
The screams that ravaged my throat reverberated in my head as they bounced off the wad of cloth that had been tied into my mouth and escaped through my nose. The higher the flames climbed the harder I screamed. My throat was burning long before my skirt lit up. My legs were hot, my head was light, the sight of my sobbing family wavered before me like a reflection in the river.
There was a searing pain along my calf, and all went black.
The first thing I was sensible of was the cold, it chilled me to the bone and as I shivered I suddenly realized I wasn’t dead. My eyes flew open and I sat up with a splash. The sliver of moon danced upon the river and by it I could make out the outlines of my surroundings.
I was in the shallows, where we watered the herd, not far at all from the home I had been ripped from this morning. How had I gotten here? How had I escaped the flames?
I shivered again and crept towards the bank, keeping low to remain out of sight of the house. My family had been through enough the last week. If they thought I was dead it was better to leave it that way. My return would only cause them more trouble.
I crawled into my secret place, a hollow under a bramble where I had often hidden from my chores as a child. It offered some small shelter from the night wind, and a slight sense of security against the suddenly cruel world. This place alone was unchanged, I just wished… I wished I was the same.
I didn’t even know why I was different all of the sudden. Everything I thought I had known had changed. Now all that I knew for sure was that wild imaginations of my heart had started coming true, and that I had never imagined things would get this bad.
There was a rustling in the bushes behind me and my heart froze in my chest. Surely no one would look for me here, but who would be out here this time of night if they weren’t looking for me? I tried to make myself smaller, praying that my violent shivering wouldn’t shake the bush too much and draw attention to my hiding place.
“Mistress! Mistress Ivy are you here?” a familiar whining voice called softly but urgently. “Please don’t tell me the river swept you away,” my favorite pig added in a despairing one. We had become very close, the pig Chloe and I, in the week since I suddenly started understanding everything my herd was saying.
“I am here, Chloe,” I whispered through my chattering teeth.
There was a rustling of the branches as she rooted her way into my hiding place. “Oh Mistress Ivy,” she said. “I am so happy to see you awake. We have kept them away from here ever since you appeared, but your family will eventually come to the water. We must get out of here before morning dawns.”
“But where can I go?” I asked in despair.
“Where?” she asked me, the surprise apparent in her eyes as well as her voice, “Mistress, we can go anywhere.”
“We?” I asked.
“Of course,” she said. “You did not think I would turn on you like the humans did, did you?”
“Of course not,” I assured her. “But I cannot care for you when I cannot even care for myself. Besides, how can you leave when your herd is here?”
“We discussed it from one end of the pen to the other, and it was agreed that I should go with you, you will need a companion,” she said plopping down next to me and lending me some of her warmth.
Having been raised with pigs I was not at all against curling up against her and soaking her warmth through my damp clothes. I had slept by her many times anyway, and she was a better bedmate than my sister any day of the week. Chloe never hogged the blanket.
“Mistress Ivy, you will never get warm in those wet rags,” she told me.
“I know, but they are all I have,” I told her. “I can’t go about without clothes.”
“Then wish them dry,” she said simply.
I screwed up my face in the dark. I hadn’t even thought of that, though I had certainly wished for less important things in the last week. The wishing had gotten me in a lot of trouble though, and part of me was afraid that if I wished for anything else I would just be proving I hadn’t learned my lesson and I’d end up in even more trouble.
“Couldn’t you just go and pull a blanket off of the line for me?” I asked Chloe.
“They took in all of the washing already,” she said. “Besides, you will need more than a blanket to survive, better start using that gift of yours.”
I supposed she was right, and I really didn’t have much of a choice. I closed my eyes and imagined myself in warm dry clothes, my red curls dry and bouncing, my feet well shod. As the image formed in my mind I felt the changes against my skin. When I opened my eyes I found the charred and soaking rags had indeed changed into warm wool of a lovely deep blue.
Chloe looked me over and nodded her approval. She got up on her hooves and pushed her way out of the bushes. I took one last look around my little hiding place and then followed her out into the wide and frightening world.
When we reached the road I stopped and looked down it in the moonlight, uncertain of which way I should go in search of a different fate. To the north lay the forbidding Black Mountains, the setting place of every frightening tale I had ever heard. To the south lay the rolling fields and distant cities that the children of my village had grown up dreaming about escaping to one day.
I was tempted to chase that dream now, go to the city and somehow build the kind of life that would make everyone I had ever known green with envy. Then I realized that if I ever again met anyone I had ever known then any life I built would be in danger. A new life needed new dreams, and a new world to craft them out of.
With that thought I resolutely pointed my toes to the north, and Chloe pattered along behind me without a question or a complaint. Well… almost without a complaint. About dawn she started to babble on about how she wished it was easier going, and how she didn’t understand why the road had to be so steep in places.
I let out a frustrated sigh and she quieted down. Honestly, did she expect me to just wish the whole world to change to suit me? I didn’t know much about my strange new power, how it worked or where it came from, but I was sure there was such a thing as an abuse of magical powers, and that was a journey I DIDN’T want to take.
We stopped at mid-day and went off the path in search of food. Her excellent sniffing skills found lots of things for me to dig up, and a cold mountain stream in which to wash them. Looking down over the valley I was divided in my emotions. I was sad to leave everything behind, but also a little frightened of what I may find along this rocky path.
I had never known whether I should believe half the tales I heard about the things that resided in these mountains. If even a quarter of them were true I was going to have to sharpen my wishing skills in order to make it to the other side alive. I had heard of trolls, and ogres, and fanged deer with wings. Any of these things would love a girl for lunch and a pig for desert.
Still, the only way past it was through it, and my determination strengthened the weaker the light became. I wasn’t going to fail Chloe. We were going to make it, if only because it would be a waste of magical ability for us not to.
As night fell we came upon a rocky overhang that seemed just the right place to spend the night. We ate the food I had tied up in my petticoat. We watched the sun sink behind the trees and fields, then curled together against the cold night air.
I remembered groggily wishing for a blanket in the middle of the night, but wasn’t prepared for what I found with the morning light. Chloe’s nose peeked out from under a fine wool blanket, a steaming bowl of porridge sat on a rock nearby, and a spade and pack sat next to them. It seemed that now even my dreams were being fulfilled in the twinkling of an eye.
Truth be told it frightened me a bit, though I didn’t tell Chloe as we divided the large bowl and gobbled up the porridge. I licked the bowl clean and then stuffed it in the pack along with the blanket and shovel. The weight of it was a constant reminder that I had to control my thoughts, and I spent the day deliberately avoiding any kind of imagination at all.
That night, as we snuggled into a bed of pine needles under a grand evergreen tree I thought over and over about how blessed I was, and how I had everything I needed right there. The sound of Chloe’s snores eased the tension of the day. I drifted off to sleep.
I felt, rather than heard the presence, and my eyes flew wide open. I scanned the trees around me, searching for the source of the disturbance. Then I saw it, peering around from behind a boulder uphill from me. It was covered in fur, standing erect, and moving slightly as it studied the shape of our forms under the blanket.
I wished for a sword. I felt it blossom from my hand. I wished I knew how to use it.
As the confidence flooded into my body I rose slowly from the ground, my blade extended. I let the blanket fall, glad to see that Chloe’s sleeping form was lost beneath it. I wished for her to remain still and asleep until it was safe.
I stepped out into the moonlight and tossed my mess of curls over my shoulder confidently. My blade glistened in the moonlight. In answer a slim sliver line glinted from over by the boulder.
As the misshapen form came out into the open I tried to figure out exactly what I was up against here. I supposed it was possible that a troll or an ogre could carry a sword. I really didn’t know anything about either though, so even with a close look I wouldn’t know one. It was also possible this was a highway robber or other human ruffian, in which case I had much more to guard against, especially as I had no gold to satisfy him.
I flicked my blade around swiftly, inviting us both to discover the extent of my skills. The blade felt right in my hand, the tip an extension of my finger, ready to poke his eye out with lightening speed. A smile spread across my face, some crazy part of me thought this was going to be fun.
The form was clear of the boulder, and we carefully approached one another across the clearing I studied it for clues as to a weakness. It seemed to favor its right leg and the lump on its left shoulder seemed to pain it as well. I still wasn’t entirely sure what kind of face was hidden under that hood, but human or not, I felt I had the upper hand.
Suddenly there was a crashing from the forest down below us. Several forms came loping up from the shadows. There were no blades present, but the beasts were toothy, heavily muscled, and carried stout tree limbs like they knew how to use them.
I repositioned myself, trying to think of a way to defeat this many opponents, and even my newly wished skills were coming up lacking. The largest of the beasts lifted its cudgel and bellowed in the most frightening way. It launched itself up the hill with a snarl.
I braced myself for the attack and swung my blade menacingly around as the beasts followed their leader in the charge. The leader turned off to attack my other would-be opponent. Two of the followers were soon looming over me, barely kept at bay by the slices I was administering to any limb that got within my reach.
As I fought I spared a glance for the other bladed fighter, who was somehow holding off the rest of the beasts with its sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. It looked more like a dance than a fight. I grudgingly respected the level of skill it displayed, whatever it was.
I had gone from trying to deflect and discourage my opponents to attempting fatal blows when a strange sound echoed through the woods around me. It was long and low, and was followed by a mighty roar and the pounding of feet. The trees above us erupted with motion and all of the sudden a dozen armed figures rushed in to attack our opponents from behind. The large beasts could not withstand so many opponents, and with angry bellows retreated back down the slope.
The other fighters pursued them, leaving me alone with my blade in the well trampled clearing. I squinted off through the trees, watching for any sign that I was to come under another attack. Then I heard the soft snorts of the waking Chloe and knew the danger was past.
All the same I urged her silence and we gathered our few things and hurried up the road. I didn’t know what war we had inadvertently gotten in the middle of, but I wanted out of it right away. I thought if we hurried we could be well behind the battle lines before the break of day.
We had gone nearly half a mile up the road when a sudden rustling in the trees alarmed me. I raised my sword, only to have it snatched from my hand and my body lifted swiftly into the branches. Chloe squealed loudly as she was also swept up off of her feet and buried among the branches. I tried to call her name but a foul smelling hand was clamped over my mouth. My struggles against it were in vain.
My captor held me like that until after daybreak, my back pressed against a rock like chest, a hairy arm the only part of it that was visible. My muscles ached, my neck creaked at the slightest movement and the branch below me pressed painfully into my behind. What bothered me the most was that I neither heard nor saw Chloe in all that time. I despaired that I had led her to her death.
As the sun rose up above the tips of the pine trees there came the sound of many feet from the road below. Just as a crowd of hooded figures rounded the bend I was unseated and swiftly lowered to the road, the smelly hand still clamped over my mouth.
I breathed a sigh of relief to see Chloe also returned to the road, though the sight of the hairy beast that held her was unsettling. Its cloak had slipped from around it, revealing a hairy body and strange face. Whatever our captors were, they were not human.
The party coming up the road halted, and a solitary figure approached from in their midst. It favored its right leg and had a large lump behind its left shoulder. It stopped and studied Chloe first, but then soon dismissed her and approached me. As it approached the face within the hood was revealed to me, and I stared in shock at the human face topped with the gold band of a crown.
He spoke not a word as he studied me, then turned and grunted to the beast that held me. The rank hand was loosened on my face and I wrenched my head away to demand of the leader, “What do you want with me?”
He grunted again, but this time kept his eyes on me, as if he expected me to understand his grunts like they were language. I stared at him in confusion until the whining voice of my pig rang out, “What does he say Mistress Ivy?” she asked.
Suddenly, I remembered the wish that had started all of this trouble for me. I closed my eyes and wished I could communicate with these monsters and their human leader. Not a moment too soon his grunts changed to words and I heard his repeated demand.
“Why have you come to Troll Mountain?” he said in irritation.
“I am merely passing through,” I explained boldly. “How dare you detain me and remove my pig from my possession? Return her at once!”
“I will return your animal when I see fit,” he said in a growl. “And you will address me with more respect, human.”
“Respect is earned,” I said to him angrily. “To me you are nothing but a ruffian who has waylaid me on my journey.”
“Ruffian? I? I am Ronfer, Leader of the Trolls, King of Troll Mountain. Who are you to address me with such disdain?”
“I?” I said with mock pride as I cast around in my mind for a name to impress even a king. “I am Ivy, Witch of the Valley, Speaker of Tongues and Blade of the South. I have been patient enough with you Trolls, and if you do not unhand me immediately I will be forced to use my great power against you.”
“Great power?” he scoffed at me. “I’ll grant that you are good with a blade, but if you had such great power why did you not use it last night to defend yourself against the Orges?”
“That was your battle, not mine,” I said. “Why should I fight it for you?”
“It wouldn’t have been a battle if you hadn’t gotten in the way,” he said angrily. “That was supposed to be a peaceful meeting.”
“If you hadn’t interrupted my slumber I wouldn’t have been in the way,” I retorted. “Besides, who brings an army to a peace talk?”
He looked a little abashed at that. I took the opportunity to yank my arm free of the smelly Troll that held me captive. It tried to regain the grip but Ronfer shook his head slightly and I was completely released.
“I am bored with you, human,” he said turning away. “Take your animal and go.”
I called to Chloe, and she came running over to me. I stroked her head comfortingly and told her not to worry, but when I straightened up Ronfer was blocking my way.
“What language is this?” he asked his face a cloud of confusion. “Do you really speak the tongue of swine?”
I glared at him, “Are you hard of hearing? I told you I am Ivy, Witch of the Valley…”
“Speaker of Tongues, Blade of the South,” he finished with me. “But you speak more than Human and Troll?” he asked.
“I do what I wish, understand what I wish, destroy what I wish,” I said giving him a glare with that last part. Just for emphasis I concentrated hard and imagined the branch of a nearby tree splintering into a million pieces and falling to the forest floor. My wish was granted in the next breath and the trolls watched in shock as I destroyed the limb. They moved away from me a little, all except Ronfer.
“Forgive me Great Lady,” he said falling to a knee. “I beg you to forgive me. You have been sent in answer to my prayer and I did not recognize it.” He grabbed my hand and pressed his forehead to it, and all around me the Trolls fell to their knees.
I looked around in shock for a moment and then recovered my senses. “Rise, Ronfer, King of the Trolls,” I said. “I will forgive you this once.”
He rose to his feet, but kept bowing his head as he begged to be allowed to bring me to his castle and receive me properly. I debated it a moment and then decided it was as safe a course as any other, and allowed them to lead me to the castle on a nearby peak.
A week later I stood alone in the moonlight on the road down the mountain. The Ogre King came out of the trees and I glowered at the ten Ogre warriors that slunk out behind him. He seemed surprised to see me, and even more surprised to see me alone and without a sword.
“Where is the human who calls himself the Troll King?” the Ogre demanded of me.
I, of course prepared to hear and speak in Ogre, glared at him and corrected him, “The orphan the Trolls have chosen as their King did not trust you to honor the agreement. I, Ivy, Witch of the Valley, Speaker of Tongues, Blade of the South, have come instead.” I looked pointedly at the club in his hand and then at the Ogres behind him.
“I make no agreements with commoners,” the Ogre King said, “Especially humans pretending to have authority on the slopes of the Magic Mountains.”
“His authority is given to him by the Trolls,” I said in a clear, crisp tone. “Mine however is given to me by a more direct source,” I added. I didn’t even have to concentrate as I caused a boulder to erupt from the ground under his toes.
He stumbled back, looking at me in astonishment. I smiled at him serenely, flipping my freshly washed and perfumed red ringlets over my shoulder and wishing the boulder back into place. The boulder’s retreat seemed to have more effect upon him than its appearance and he sunk to his knees in the freshly disturbed ground.
“This war will cease,” I told him. “Troll Mountain has stood as an independent kingdom for a thousand years. The Ogre King has no claim up on it and continued aggression will be dealt with swiftly, by me. Go back to your Mountain in peace, or face the consequences.”
With that I turned and marched up the hill, not even looking back to see how my words had been received. I didn’t need to, the squirrels were already gossiping about it and the crickets were singing my praises.

The Prince and the Thief

Build-a-story Started 10/13/11 finished 10/17/11
Written so I could ignore my personal crisis for a few hours.

Reader submitted story elements:
Asian Empress
Wedding gone horribly wrong in a humorous way
Something lurking in the shadows.

I'm not so sure I can do humorous right now, but I'll give it a try.

The Prince and the Thief

Part 1 The Thief

He looked so smug, riding on his horse through the forest, as if he had any right to these roads. I sat high in my shadowy perch watching them pass, counting the gilded boxes that soon would change hands. The High Prince of Kaya had come to take the daughter of the Empress as his bride, and I had come to take his wedding gifts before he reached the palace.

I felt the slightest bit of worry as I counted the blades, but we had never expected so much treasure to be wholly unguarded. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, the long standing good relations between China and Kaya had worked on our side. Had the prince come from Paekche or Silla the battle would have been a bit more intimidating.

I heard my mother’s birdlike cry echoing through the bamboo, and readied myself for the next signal. Around me I heard the slight rustling as the others shifted in their seats and caused the trees to sway. A solitary guard looked up at the sound, but then like the others dismissed his only warning as a touch of wind.

The call of the monkey rang out loud and clear and I reacted to it before the cry had faded on my mother’s lips. I leapt from my seat and slid down the length of the tree. As I slid down the leaves flew in every direction and we hit the ground like so much rain.

The rustling and thuds had barely registered in the guard’s ears before the first of them was down, the victim of my brother’s club. I streaked past the confused guards and headed straight for the black hatted prince. Any load carried personally by the groom had to be worth the most, and I was going to be the one counting it by the fire tonight!

He looked at me in bewilderment and fear as I approached him. A laugh escaped my lips as I drew near, and swung up on the horse behind him and batted the ceremonial hat that was slipping down around his ears. It flew off his head and while his eyes followed it in shock I snatched the lidded basket out of his hands.

I had run several steps between the tightly spaced trees before I realized how unexpectedly light my load was. Another two steps though and I discovered I didn’t have time to worry about it, for the prince had recovered from his shock and was following me on foot into the forest.
I hadn’t known they bothered teaching those pampered pretties HOW to run. The noblemen had always just sat and squawked before.

I quickened my pace and soon reached the part of the forest we liked to call the maze. I wove in and out of the bamboo stands with years of expertise while he yelled in his strange tongue and fell further and further behind. Soon I could no longer hear him and pulled my prize into a tight stand of trees to wait and watch.

I could hear a lot of shouting in the distance, but none of it was a voice I knew, or even a language I understood, so I was hopeful that my friends and family had gotten away as neatly as I had. This would show that old hag of an Empress. You can’t keep a good band down by killing their leader, it only makes them strike a little closer to home.

I smiled and turned the basket so that I could undo the latch on the lid. I lifted the lid expectantly, trusting the prize would be a delight to my eyes.

There was a flurry of motion and my loot erupted from the basket in a storm of feathers and honks. I pressed myself against the bamboo to avoid the wild pecking and flapping wings as the gander struggled to escape its surprised captor. Feathers and bamboo leaves rained down around me as the gander found its way out of the tight copse.

I took a moment to recover from my shock and then threw the basket to the side as I climbed out of the copse. Stupid foreigners, having princes carry geese in baskets! Who brought a live goose to a wedding?

I was going to be the laughing stock of the thieves’ camp tonight. I was tempted to not even go home for a few days, but I knew my mother would worry, and then would be angry when I showed up late, whole, and empty handed. I hadn’t even the stupid bird to show for my trouble.
I was picking my way through the forest, keeping an eye out for stray guards when I heard a strange sobbing nearby. I crept towards the sound, alert for a trap, but was unprepared for what I saw. The prince knelt on the ground, tears running down his face, as he held a knife point to his chest. His hands trembled as he tried to summon the courage to plunge the blade into his heart.
I was across the grove to him before I had even thought of my reasons for doing it. The thief in me wanted nothing to do with the death of a nobleman, but it was the woman in me that snatched the blade from his hands.

He fell backward in surprise and then cringed under the tongue lashing that flowed past my lips unbidden. What a fool he was. “Get up and go,” I told him. “Don’t lay your death at my door. Be a man!”

The only word he seemed to catch was death and he nodded crawling towards me, motioning towards the blade and his throat repeating “kill” as he groveled at my feet.

I placed my foot on his shoulder and kicked hard sending him sprawling on the ground. He just lay there, waiting with his eyes closed and his chest heaving with silent sobs.

I was wasting my time, the guards would find him soon enough, if there were any left. I shoved his jeweled knife in my belt and slipped silently back amongst the trees. How on earth did someone that stupid get to be a nobleman anyway? The world was completely backward.
I got to camp later than the others, but the knife distracted my mother from her lecture. It was soon hanging from her belt and I pretended to be proud of my conquest while the others divided the spoil all around me. Taker always got first pick, leader got second, and the rest was divided evenly amongst the band, that was the way my father had always done it, and it was the way we carried on now that he was gone.

“Is the dagger really all you got, Mei?” my friend Jun asked me later as he sat down beside me. Jun was one of the few foreigners in the band, and he spoke with a thick accent, though his vocabulary was improving.

“Yeah, the goose got away,” I admitted with an embarrassed smile.

“Goose?” he asked, then seemed to know the answer. “Oh, the gander! Ha, I’d forgotten about
that.”

“Forgotten about what?” I asked him, not happy he was laughing at me.

“Well… you know we just attacked the prince of my homeland, don’t you?” he asked.

I pretended I had, though of course I hadn’t had a clue.

“In my homeland the groom brings a wild gander to the mother of the bride,” he said looking thoughtful. He stared at the embers of the fire for a while, lost in thought, and then shook himself and asked, “I didn’t see you grab the dagger though, your hands must be getting faster.”
I tried to lie at first, but I could tell I wasn’t convincing him so I gave up and told him the truth. He wouldn’t tell on me anyway, he liked me more than the others.

“Almost makes you feel sorry for him,” Jun said turning a coin over and over in his hands as I finished my tale.

“Why would he kill himself over losing a goose?” I asked.

“Gander,” Jun corrected me. “It’s the symbol of the groom’s devotion. Ganders mate for life.”
“Still doesn’t sound like a reason to kill yourself,” I said picking up some dirt and throwing it in the fire. It snapped and crackled angrily.

“It wasn’t just the goose, Mei,” Jun said glowering at the fire.

“You really are feeling sorry for him,” I said looking at him severely.

Jun chuckled and shook his head. I had never seen him like this in the five years I had known him. Watchful, yes, he was smart, he was always thinking, but this odd mood was strange, even for my favorite foreigner.

“You aren’t going soft on me are you?” I asked him jokingly.

He smiled, “As soft as my blade,” he began.

“And twice as sharp,” I finished for him. He was back to normal now, or at least I thought he was in that moment.

Later that night I found I couldn’t sleep and went for a walk in the forest. The gentle swaying of the bamboo had always calmed me, but tonight it did little for my mind. The strange prince was in my thoughts, the tears on his face, the knife in his hand. Why would a person who had everything be so upset over the loss of a goose and a few gifts? Kings were rich, he could just explain to the Empress, and go home and get more.

I hadn’t realized where my feet were taking me until I saw the form laying on the forest floor, just the way I had left him. I watched him sleep through the trees, his face still streaked from the dust and his tears. He looked as though he wouldn’t move if a horse was galloping his way. The man was broken.

A single step behind me had me spinning and reaching for my knife, but Jun’s hand was over mine at my belt before I could draw it. He placed a finger to his lips and drew me back into the forest, away from the broken prince.

“Do you want to help him?” Jun asked in a whisper at my ear.

The hairs on my neck stood up to have him so close to me, but I pretended as always that he was just another brother to me. I nodded while I fought the tightness in my throat.

“Good, because I can’t do this alone,” Jun said. “Go and find the basket and meet me here.”

“Where are you going?” I whispered after him, but he was already slipping through the trees.

I went and found the basket and returned to our meeting place. Jun was not there, so I left the basket and went to peek at the prone prince. He had rolled over in his sleep, and something about the change in position comforted me, though I didn’t know why.

I went back to the meeting place and waited. I waited half the night before a wild flapping sounded through the trees. It was a few moments before Jun entered the clearing, a gander caught in his capable hands.

It made a lot of noise as we shoved it in the basket. The thief in me jumped at every honk, but it went quiet once the basket was closed. Jun latched it shut and then handed the basket to me.

“What are you giving this to me for?” I asked. “This is your plan.”

“You are the one who stole it, you must return it,” he said giving me a little shove in the right direction.

I crept through the forest and then sat on an old stump near the prince, waiting for him to wake up. I may have dozed off once or twice, but I was watching as the first rays of dawn struck his face and his eyes fluttered open. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized why this man’s sorrow tugged at my heart so.

He looked just like Jun.

The prince saw me within moments, and blinked in surprise. He sat up, but his expression wasn’t one of fear, or even of hatred. Instead he looked at me as if he thought I was a spirit. I stood and carried the basket towards him, placing it within his reach and then backing away. “Go marry your princess,” I told him, pointing the way towards the road. He reached for the basket with an expression of unbelief and picking it up looked the way I had pointed. He looked back at me and I shooed him away in irritation. Some people just couldn’t understand plain Chinese.

He turned and looked again at the way to the road and I took that moment to slip away through the trees. From our vantage point Jun and I saw him look back, surprised to find me missing, and then carry the bird basket towards the road. It wasn’t long before he stumbled upon one of his guards and was conveyed safely to the summer palace.

Two days later Jun and I slipped into the crowd of celebrating peasants that thronged the gates of the palace hoping to get a glimpse of the royal wedding taking place in the garden. The mounted prince was crossing the large pond on a footbridge that ended on a small island in the middle. He dismounted, leaving the horse with a groom as he carried his bird basket to the Empress. He placed it in her hands with a formal bow and she passed it off quickly to a servant.
Jun was shaking his head at the lack of regard for the Kaya tradition, but my eyes were on the basket. The servant didn’t seem to know that the basket should remain closed and set it on the ground to open it for his Lady.

Laughter erupted from the crowd as the gander burst from the basket and flew at the Empress. She wheeled around in her efforts to get away, tripped over the still kneeling servant, and toppled into the pond. The entire party on the island rushed to help her, dredging their finery in the mucky water, and slipping and sliding themselves as they struggled to right the Empress.

The Empress was enraged, the princess was weeping behind her veil, and Jun and I were swept away with the rest of hastily ejected crowd. We giggled the whole way home.

A week later we were sitting in our shadowy perches over the road when the prince left the summer palace, accompanied only by his guards. When they reached the place on the road where we had attacked them on their first passing the prince reigned in his horse and looked around him. For a rejected groom he appeared quite content, even thankful.

Within my heart I wished my victim well.

Part 2 The Prince

The bamboo grew thick in this section of the forest, crowding in around the road to the summer palace as if it longed to reach out and touch the noblemen that passed this way. Over the sound of my horse’s hooves I heard a bird call out, somewhere close by but unseen in the treetops. The forest was restful, with its rustling in the wind and peaceful creatures, but I was not comforted by it.

I clutched the basket that sat in front of me on the horse’s back. Within it lay the gander we had caught with some effort this morning. It was a present for my future mother-in-law, the symbol of my commitment to a life of devotion to her daughter, a union that would bind out families and lands together.

This union was a long time coming. Diplomatic relations with China had been a bit tense since my brother had disappeared on the journey to this self-same palace four years ago. It had not come to war, but my father was most anxious to pacify the Empire and protect our people. The price of continued peace was the hand of a son, and so I had come to this place, this time, and this unavoidable task.

Judging by the beauty of the Empress I had some hope that my bride would be pretty at least, but that was the end of my hopes for a pleasant marriage. I wasn’t looking forward to the months that it would take us to cross the language barrier, much less the cultural barriers, the religious barriers, and the barriers of the heart. However, I was a prince, and therefore crossing barriers was my duty, if not my joy.

A monkey cried out most painfully in the trees and I thought perhaps it was being chased through the treetops because the trees swayed vigorously and leaves rained down upon us. Then in the blink of an eye a black specter had streaked up next to my horse and brought us to a halt. It laughed at me and swung with lightening movements up behind me upon the horse. I twisted in my seat and felt a light tug at my hair as the specter knocked the ceremonial hat off of my head. I had barely registered the fall of my father’s wedding hat before my basket was wrenched from my grip and the specter was whisking away with it in its grasp.

I more or less fell off my horse in my instant instinct to reclaim the gift that was meant to purchase peace for my people. My soft silk shoes were not much protection against the ravages of the forest floor, but I kept up my pursuit with singular determination. I had to get that gander back.

The pursuit of a specter is a fruitless endeavor though, even for a prince, and soon I was hopelessly lost without even a glimpse of specter or road to guide me. I called and called, begging the black spirit to return my gift, calling and calling for my guards to come to my aid, but I heard no response, saw no path out of my predicament.

Strange sounds came from all around me, and they echoed through the woods. The sunlight slanted down on me, its sideways direction casting all around me in strange shadows and harsh contrast. The walls of bamboo twisted and turned, like a maze of bars hemming me in.
I followed one sharp turn after another until my bruised and throbbing feet protested with each step. I sank down in a clearing, overcome with confusion, the old and broken bamboo jabbing into my legs. It was hopeless.

I thought about the black specter that had stolen my gift and lead me away from the safety of the road I was on. What was it? What did it want? Why had it chosen me as its victim? What had I ever done to anger the spirits of this forest? Was this the same spirit that has caused the disappearance of my brother? Was this spirit going to hold me captive forever? Was I ever going to see my family and homeland again? Was I doomed to wander this forest until I died?
What would happen to my kingdom? Would this lead to war? Would my people die because I had failed them as my brother had? Would our home and our culture be absorbed into the Empire like so many others? Would all that made Kaya great be lost forever?

Tears for my homeland, for my family coursed down my face, and the dam I had built to hold back my emotions burst from this little breech. The hopelessness of my situation, the anger of the Empire, the enormity of the number of people I had let down pressed down on me until I could bear it no more. I was lost, with nothing to do but rot here day by day until death claimed me at last.

I curled into a ball but a sharp jab in my side gave focus to my grief. The Dagger of Kaya, the gift of my father upon my departure pressed its jeweled head into my side. “Use me,” it seemed to whisper, “Death before dishonor, do not die like a helpless animal in the forest.”

I sat up and drew it from its sheath. The silver length glimmered gold in the dying sun, the last sun I would see. I pressed the point to my chest. The point pierced my tunic easily, it would slide into my heart easily, the pain would be over soon, and with me would die the last hopes of my kingdom.

I raised my arms and gathered the strength to make my final act. My hands shook, my heart ached, and then like a vapor the hilt was gone from my hands!

I opened my eyes, not knowing what to expect, the spirit world or the forest, instead I saw the pale angry face of the black specter. It spoke to me in a strange tongue that only held a small resemblance to the Chinese I had been taught. I caught two words only, death and door. Yes death was the door, death was the only course left to me. I knew it and the specter knew it, but it did not seem to wish me an easy death. It wanted me to die slowly and painfully, as my people and culture would.

“Please kill me,” I begged it, and I repeated the words in my halting Chinese. I begged it, kneeling before it, touching my head to the ground at its feet.

With a shove of some unknown power it repelled me back and I hit the ground hard, waiting for the end to come, waiting for the power to strike again and finish me. The blow never came. I lay there waiting, empty, broken, praying for the end, but the end stretched further and further away from me.

I was a disgrace, I couldn’t even die right.

I woke to the sound of whispers in the trees and opened my eyes to see the moon’s eye looking down on me. The silver light was a balm to my soul, and I let it wash over me. The moon was like me, surrounded by darkness on every side.

No, the moon was better than I, for though it battled the darkness every night and was over come again and again, it always came back, growing until its strength could light the path for all. I wished I was more like the moon. I rolled over on my side and curved my body like the crescent moon as I thought and thought. My people, my country, my family needed me. Without my brother and without me the kingdom would fall into civil war, and that would leave us exposed to attack from the outside.

I had to fight the darkness, I had to come back from this dark moment like the moon did. I knew not how, or where I would get the strength, but only I could do it.

When I opened my eyes again the sun was falling on me. A new day had dawned for me and for the world. My eyes immediately fell upon the black specter. It sat just out of reach, and in its lap lay my gift. It had not been lost at all, and now that I had learned my lesson the spirits of this forest were returning my life to me, so that I could make it better.

The specter came towards me without a noise and placed the basket near my side. It moved away, then pointed opposite the rising sun and spoke again. “Marry” and “Princess” it said and then seemed to be angry at my lack of immediate response. The basket in my hand I looked away in the direction the spirit was sending me. I looked back to thank it, but it was gone, and I was left alone to make my way.

I had not traveled far when my guard found me, and I was welcomed most warmly at the palace. The guards and Empress were all convinced that we had been beset by a band of thieves, and I kept silent about the spiritual message that had been the real intent behind the experience. I did not think I could explain it in a way they would ever understand. I wasn’t sure I would ever fully understand it either, but I respected it enough to keep quiet.

In spite of the lack of treasures the Empress agreed to allow the wedding to proceed and after two days I mounted my horse again in order to take my bride. I moved forward with singular determination, and only realized something was amiss in my pursuit of my course when I heard the flapping of wings and screams behind me.

I turned in time to see the Empress falling, the gander flying away above her. I rushed to the Empress’ side like all the others, but she refused the hand I offered.

Each day for a week I appealed to the Empress and her daughter, and each day for a week they again rejected my hand. This situation was hopeless, but each night as I looked up at the moon, waxing stronger it its victory over the darkness, I found hope in the end of this situation. I found hope that Kaya could be strong without the Chinese Empire, that we could stand without a people so unlike ourselves. I dreamed of a Kaya that chose peace instead of trying to buy it.

I left the Summer Palace and rode into the forest once again. My guards were anxious and kept their weapons ready, but I knew I had nothing to fear from the spirits of this wood. I stopped, in the place I will never forget, and lifted my face to the wind. I whispered a prayer of thanks to the black specter that had stolen my old self from me, and given me back so much more.

Part 3 The Prince of Thieves

I wondered, as I did every time we did this, exactly what she was thinking as Mei watched our victims go by below us. Her face was bright in the shadows, pale like the moon, but sculpted like a gemstone. That face had been a source of fascination to me since I had first seen it, back when I was her victim not her comrade.

I heard the birdcall from her mother’s lips and readied myself at the signal. My bamboo tree swung slightly with my movement. My clumsiness in the tree tops had been a source of amusement for some in our band of thieves, but Mei had never mocked me, only helped me. Now I was better than most of those that had mocked me.

Mei’s stayed perfectly still, as if the tree was part of her, another leg from which she would spring into action. She had been born to this life, born to the freedom and also the prison of the life of a thief. She moved like the wind, climbed like a monkey, and had the fingers of a musician.
Of course these were things I could never say to her, or reveal that I felt. Not to her, not to her family, not to any of my new friends, could I speak the thoughts of my heart. For with the skills and profession came a strange mixture of pride and humility that refused compliment, and demanded respect.

The sound of the monkey called us to action. I followed Mei down to the forest floor. I would follow her anywhere, truth be told; into death, into fire, and today, into battle against my own blood.

No one would recognize me. When I had joined the band not even Mei had recognized me for the pampered Prince Jun of Kaya she had robbed on this very road four years ago. In her company, with her training, and in a thief’s clothes, not even my brother would know me, much less the guards.

I watched her fly past the guards like a bird on the wind and confront my younger brother with that fearless laugh. I knocked out the closest guard and rushed the cart, trying to stay alive, earn my keep, and keep an eye on Mei at the same time. I saw her up on his horse, then sprinting through the trees, headed straight for the maze she had taught me turn by turn.

I would have worried about his pursuit of her, if I hadn’t known exactly how hard it would be for him. All the military training that had been pounded into me had failed me four years ago, and his would too. Even if he had vastly improved his fighting skills since my departure, my brother’s studious and spiritual nature would not have prepared him for a force like Mei.

I grabbed a share of the loot and faded back into the tree line with the others. The few guards who were still conscious were struggling to their feet far too late to take action. We had executed the plan perfectly, and our leader would be pleased. With my secret intention to marry Mei, I liked to keep our leader happy.

As we lit the campfires the stragglers wandered into camp, their loads of treasure heavy in their arms and their hearts light within their chests. Mei was one of the last to return. When I saw her face I let out a silent sigh of relief. She was whole, not happy, but whole and home.

Her mother was quite pleased with the gift of the dagger. I recognized it of course, had coveted it in another life, but somehow the fact that it was with Mei’s family just felt right to me. Mei had taken it as deftly has she had taken my heart. Perhaps the dagger would be strengthened and sharpened by them too.

I sat beside her, trying as always to act like she was a sister to me, and not both the captor and liberator of my heart. Her hands were empty and her face downcast. “Is the dagger really all you got, Mei?” I asked her in surprise. She had a knack for picking the parcel with the best loot. I had never figured out how she did it either.

“Yeah, the goose got away,” she said, her head ducked down and her cheeks coloring.

“Goose?” I asked in confusion, then of course I knew the answer to my own question. “Oh, the gander! Ha, I’d forgotten about that.”

“Forgotten about what?” she asked grumpily. She didn’t like to be laughed at, none of them did, not when it was something as serious as loot.

“Well… you know we just attacked the prince of my homeland, don’t you?” I asked her. I wondered if any of them had made the connection between my accent and the target of our latest excursion.

She nodded, but by the lost look in her eyes I knew she was faking it. I tried very hard not to laugh. I didn’t want to hurt her thieves’ pride any more than I already had.

“In my homeland the groom brings a wild gander to the mother of the bride,” I told her. I had rarely spoken of my homeland with her, with anyone, since the day that had changed my life.

The moment she had dropped from that tree and laughed at me my whole life had faded from my mind. I thought of it sometimes, but it was like trying to remember a dream, a strange night fancy with no substance or meaning. I had thought I was such a good Prince, would be such a good king, but if I could forget it all at the sight of Mei’s face, then it was better the kingdom rested in my brother’s thoughtful hands.

Father had always preferred me, as the eldest, as the stronger son, but my mother had been the right one to prefer the younger son. She, and he, saw things I didn’t see, thought in ways I could never think. The world was changing. Leaders didn’t need action, they needed words, words that could cut and intimidate better than any dagger.

I laughed inside again. She had taken the Dagger of Kaya. She had taken the dagger from Kaya, just as she had taken the Crown Prince of Kaya from Kaya, and Kaya would be the better for it.

“I didn’t see you grab the dagger though,” I said to her. Then I veiled the compliment in an insult so that she would accept it, “Your hands must be getting faster.”

Something in the set of her mouth told me she was lying, and as she told me about grabbing it and the basket at the same time I had to hold back a smile. She could see it in my eyes though, and rolled her own as she suddenly decided to tell me the truth.

I would have preferred the lie. The truth made me sick inside. For the first time since I had wandered away from my unconscious guards I regretted leaving the country to my brother. When I flipped the coin of my life upside down I hadn’t thought, hadn’t realized I would be flipping his too. His advice had always been so good… I hadn’t thought about if he hadn’t wanted to be more than an advisor.

“Almost makes you feel sorry for him,” I said, wishing I could share even a small part of what I was feeling with her.

“Why would he kill himself over losing a goose?” she asked, and her lack of understanding clearly defined for me all the things I needed her to know, but couldn’t tell her. Now was not the time. I couldn’t have her thinking my loyalty was with him, not when I had worked this long to earn her regard. How could I fix this without giving myself away?

“Gander,” I corrected her as gently as I could in my raw emotional state. “It’s the symbol of the groom’s devotion. Ganders mate for life.”

“Still doesn’t sound like a reason to kill yourself,” she said picking up some dirt and throwing it in the fire. It snapped and crackled angrily at me, like the voices of my people, censuring me for deserting them and then failing my brother.

“It wasn’t just the goose, Mei,” I said angry with myself.

“You really are feeling sorry for him,” she said looking at me with furrowed brows.

Oh if she knew, if she knew how sorry I felt. I laughed at the twisted way my fate had brought me back four years, to the same place, the same circumstance, and the other side.

“You aren’t going soft on me are you?” she asked me in a tone that told me she wanted to believe the opposite.

I smiled at the sign that she cared, that my state of mind meant something to her. “As soft as my blade,” I said, beginning the old thieves saying she had taught me.

“And twice as sharp,” she finished for me comforted by the show of strength.

I hoped she would always think of me as that strong, that sharp, because for her I was trying to be. I never wanted to lose that faith. I didn’t want to fail her like I had failed others when I reached for her.

My conscience would not let me sleep that night, every lump in the mat beneath me was a sharp reminder of the things I couldn’t ignore anymore. I got up and went into the forest. I searched in and around the maze until at last I saw him.

He lay so still in the moonlight that at first I thought he might be dead. Then he twitched in his sleep, a look of fear clouding his expression, and I felt both joy and pain. I wanted to wash his face, wipe away the mark of all I had done to him.

Instead I watched, watched from a distance, not knowing what I should do.

I could go to him, wake him, lead him to the road. He would know me at that distance though, without the others to distract him. Then I would have to explain, and I wasn’t sure I understood it all myself.

I could walk away, leave him to find his own way as I had done, let his encounter with Mei change him as it would, like it had changed me. What would that do to him though? What would that do to my people? I had failed them, and if I failed him then he would fail them too and all would be lost.

Off to the east I saw a movement and watched in awe as Mei moved like a dark fog through the trees. She had come to him too. Though she was a thief born of thieves, she was a woman of great compassion for those unable to help themselves. I should have known she would not leave him helpless.

I crept up behind her, trying to be silent as not to alarm her, and not wake my brother at the same time. A testament to the training she had given me herself, she did not hear me until I was right behind her. I barely caught her hand before she drew her blade. Her eyes flashed in anger and fear, until she saw my face, and then something flashed within them that once again threatened to knock all else from my mind.

As her arm relaxed in my grip I forced myself to release her, fighting instead the urge to hold her that was nearly overwhelming me. Pressing my finger to my lips, I drew her back so that we could speak without waking my brother from his fitful slumber. I leaned in close to her, breathing in her earthy scent as I whispered in her ear, “Do you want to help him?”

She nodded once, her jaw set in determination. Her determination flowed into me, and suddenly I knew what I we must do.

“Good, because I can’t do this alone,” I said. “Go and find the basket and meet me here.”

“Where are you going?” she whispered to me, but I continued through the trees. I had no time to explain, I needed a lifetime for that.

It took hours to find the gander, and I counted myself lucky when I captured it on the first try. Fate was back on my side it seemed. I carried it back through the forest, only attempting to walk silently when I was close to where I knew she would be waiting. The goose was not so concerned about stealth, but my own thieves’ pride could not abide my own false steps.

She took in the gander and its meaning in a moment, and we hurried to put it in its basket. It protested to the very last, then went silent as the lid closet over it. Once the latch was secured I held it out to her and she took it with reluctant hands.

“What are you giving this to me for?” she asked. “This is your plan.”

“You are the one who stole it, you must return it,” I said, hoping someday she would understand, understand the request and also my every thought.

She cast a nervous glance at my brother, and then walked with her characteristic certainly and silence down the pathless way.

I waited, she waited, and the sun crept over the hills. The light landed on my brother’s face and I watched as he looked at her with the kind of wonder I knew all too well. I watched her give him the basket, the symbol of his future, and then shoo him on his way in her tough and loving way.

Then she returned to me and I was back where I belonged. It was not long before I captured a wild gander of my own and became a different kind of Prince.

People fear us thieves because they do not want to lose their things, but it is only after we come that they know what they have really lost, their security. Mei took that from me, she took that from my brother, and we will both love her for it endlessly.

For in loosing what we thought we had, we found our devotions; we found what was worth living for, we found ourselves.