whatisthis

 

 

 

Once upon a time in a far away land there was a little boy who had no hand. He sat in his chair day and night staring at the stump that ought to be a palm and fingers. He'd sigh as he dreamily imagined himself off fighting dragons, and wielding a sword, but it always came back down to that same handless knob.

 

 

So the little boy began to grow, and as he did so did his expectations. He found that he could sing, and charmed many a guest. He even caught the attention of a very fair princess. She invited him to come see the kingdom afar with her, but he felt too unworthy to accept. She smiled sweetly and kissed him on the cheek, and then she left.

 

 

Years passed and that princess soon became the queen. He'd meet her again some ten years since their first meeting, and she wouldn't recognize him at all, he feared, but when he was ushered into the courts to stand before his beautiful queen, she smiled at the site of his hand, and begged him to sing her a tune. And so he sang, and she was so overcome with emotion at the beauty of his voice that she ordered her servants to bathe him and dress him in the finest jewels.

 

She told her lord husband the king of this man, the man with one hand and a voice of angels. The king demanded an audience with him, to see for himself. So the minstrel came before the king, and bowed. He would not sing however. When the king asked him why this was, the man did not answer.

 

 

Enraged the king pulled his sword out and held it to the man's throat but soon found the man had become a mute. He could not understand how this could be, but the singer only smiled. He had met a witch there at the castle, and from his sleeve he revealed his hand. A hand where none had been before.

 

 

The king was shocked by this, and by the clear trade, and he was so impressed he soon made the man a knight. A knight in the way he had always wanted. He stood guard day and night, his life pledged to serve and protect the queen personally, It was not until a fateful night some years passed, that a old crone appeared before the queen's chambers and he held the sword to her throat.

 

She laughed at the man, and  with a wave of her hand a mystical force cast his blade aside and him to his knees. Bending down she kissed his lips sweetly and patted his cheek with a gentle touch. "You wish to save your queen?" she asked, "You wish to serve her true?"

 

 

The man nodded, reaching for his sword, but a mystical power tossed it away. Taking the old woman smiled. "My people are a fair people. I besiege you, pray, if you only sing me a song, I shall leave this place and your queen will be safe." The man scoffed, and shook his head.

 

But are you not the one foretold of? The woman asked, "The queen and her mighty minstrel who would protect her and bestow upon me and my people the gift of wisdom and life through the enchantment of his song?" The old crone's smile turned wicked and she morphed into the witch who had given him what he had wanted, his hand.

 

 

"Foolish man, you think you know what your heart desires, you think you know what is best," she cackled. "You thought the thing everyone else had and you had no was what you needed to be alright...tell me, are you alright now? Does it still feel so very useful to you?" The man tried to scream but no sounds did he make.

 

 

IT had been her plan all along. She knew he was the one foretold of. That he and only he could spare the queen. Spare the heir that grew in her womb, and save the kingdom. But as the witch stepped over the prone ans sobbing form of the man whose gifted hand now shrivveled away like acid, stealing away into the Queen's chambers, she smiled sweetly, singing a tune more familiar in his own voice.

 

She approached the sleeping form of the queen, and the babe that grew inside. She laid a hand on the belly and sang a song, a song of enchantment. The baby in the womb's hand began to shrink, and shrivel, and a gift of song was placed upon his life.

 

Perhaps she would try again. Her lord master never had given up on them, she saw no reason she ought to either. In a flash of light, the woman was gone, and the queen rolled over, smiling gently in her sleep.