The Goatherd's Redemption

The orange grapes and blue apples in the basket she carries are a dead giveaway, but you pretend not to notice. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit Amara?” you ask.

She smiles as she sets the basket on the table in front of you. “I’ve come to ask you one last time to reconsider your decision. You know I’ve read the signs. Every time, they tell me you must assume your rightful place.”

You sigh as you consider how best to answer her.

The kingdom hasn’t been threatened in more than 200 years and just because your ancestors were heroes of the realm, why should you be called on to fight the battles ahead?

You aren’t a knight.

Because of that one mistake, that one monumental blunder you made when you were just eleven, your family was stripped of its nobility and most of your ancestral lands were confiscated by the king.

You haven’t studied war strategies or tactics, and you haven’t had weapons or combat training other than what your father and grandfather taught you when you were a child.

Who put Amara up to this?

Certainly not the king. He hates you after what happened to the prince.

You are nothing now. Nothing but the goat man of Elvilares. Selling milk and cheese and the occasional goat to people who used to defer to your family.

Although none of them know what you did, everyone knows it incurred the wrath of the king and that you, and you alone, brought about your family’s downfall.

You’ve become the cautionary tale people tell their children at night to keep them out of trouble.

        There was a young noble lad.

Who did a deed - oh, so bad.

Never to be a knight.

Due to one awful night.

        He lost his family’s lands.

And milks goats with his hands.

On and on it goes.

How much of this humiliation have you endured over the past eight years? How many times have the children circled around you singing such words and laughing when you take your goat milk and cheese to the market?

Amara is waiting for your reply.

She’s been hounding you for more than a month. The kingdom seems to be as peaceful as ever, but Amara says she knows the war is coming very, very soon.

You, better than anyone, know her visions ring true.

The shiver running down your spine dredges up the past and takes you back to the day everything changed.

Your parents were so proud you and Prince Armand were such close friends. The two of you were always together and had so much in common, including a fascination with magic.

You never should have stolen the wand and the potion from the king’s prophetess.

Armand knew about the secret entrance behind the tapestry that led to her chamber. He’d followed his father and listened to the soothsayer’s predictions and warnings many times.

He knew the prophetess was out of the castle that day. At his father’s request, she’d joined him on a trip to a nearby village to read the signs of some recent disturbances that worried the king.

You both slipped into her chamber and Armand led you straight to the wand and the potion which he believed would allow the two of you to see each other’s futures.

As you ran through the castle, both of you giddy with excitement, you wondered if you’d really be able to see what you’d be like as grown men. What amazing things awaited the prince and knight of the realm?

When you arrived at the copse on the edge of the pond, and after you’d both caught your breath, you began to discuss how to use the potion and the wand.

Armand had watched the prophetess use both and described what he’d seen, explaining the steps to be taken. He told you the words the soothsayer used before each of her visions and made you practice until you had the incantation memorized.

You motioned for Armand to go first. The grin on his face told you just how excited he was.

He placed a large, flat stone between the two of you and told you to think about your future. What did you want to know about? To see?

Your mind raced with questions about your life to come.

Armand put several drops of the potion on the rock, closed his eyes and pointed the wand at the potion. He repeated the words he’d heard the prophetess use and asked to see your future.

You waved your hand in front of you and coughed as the small puff of bluish smoke from the potion blew across your face. You asked Armand if he saw anything because you had your eyes closed thinking about how spectacular your life would be.

He blushed and stammered out “I think I saw a goat.”

The two of you looked at each other and started laughing. It was the kind of laughter you can’t stop. Every time you made eye contact with each other, you both laughed even harder. As you wiped a tear from your eye, and the prince rubbed the stitch in his side, the laughter finally subsided.

Armand said it was your turn to see his future.

You practiced the incantation again – just to be sure you got it right. Armand nodded and told you to do it.

You asked him to think about his future. What did he want to know? To see? You poured a few drops of potion on the stone and repeated the soothsayer’s words, then asked him what his deepest desire was.

Oh, no! That wasn’t right. You were supposed to ask to see his future!

Green and purple smoke from the potion ascended in spirals and surrounded Armand. His body rose from the ground with his eyes shut tight. You yelled in fear, but Armand couldn’t seem to hear you.

In the smoke you saw the prophetess, you saw Armand, and you saw them merge into one just as the smoke seemed to draw in upon itself. Then it violently exploded outward, knocking you over.

You winced as you sat up and all you saw was Armand’s feet through the remaining wisps of smoke around him. He was flat on his back. You called his name over and over, but he didn’t move.

As you tried to clear your head and stand, you heard a moan and froze. It wasn’t Armand’s voice.

You quickly looked all around the copse. You couldn’t see through the bushes and trees, but there was no one along the banks of the pond.

You called his name again, and as Armand slowly sat up you cried out. For it wasn’t Armand in front of you; it was a beautiful young lady. She reached a hand up to rub her forehead and asked you what you saw.

You screwed up the incantation and turned Prince Armand into a girl! A prophetess!

It took some doing for her to convince the king that she was the prince and even more pleading to stop him from executing you. She insisted it was her idea to steal the wand and the potion and she’d forced you to use them to see her future.

You were imprisoned for more than a month, while the king took away your family’s title and lands. During this time, the prophetess tried everything she could to turn Prince Armand back into himself. She failed and the king had her killed.

The people in the realm believe Prince Armand was sent to live with his aunt, the queen of a distance land, in order to learn diplomacy and attend a prestigious university.

Amara, as the prince is now known, was presented as the king’s orphaned niece. Her soothsaying abilities were kept an absolute secret. But you know, and it’s one more reason for the king to hate you.

Amara is still watching you. “Well?”

You look at her and wonder if she suspects you know. You silently prod yourself to say it. You know you’ll regret it if you don’t.

“Amara, you’re not really here are you? You’ve come to me in a dream, haven’t you?”

You point at the basket on the table.

She looks at it, smiles and laughs. “Oh, I was never able to get the colors right in dreams!”

Then she turns serious. “I must make you understand. All my visions showed you leading the kingdom to victory. Without you, there is no hope!”

You look at her, and as the question forms on your lips, she nods.

“Yes. I was just killed as I waited for your response. The war has begun.”