PRINCE Arstol stood bound in his hands and feet. At the courts of West Stongate’s governing house.
Arstol bowed his head in shame and humiliation. But then it was more of a feeling of regret for wrongdoing, that made the prince of the North so downcast.
And as his trespass wasn’t really to the prince of West Stongate – even though the latter was to come pass a judgement on him…
As Arstol’s trespass wasn’t to the West Prince, but rather to the Father-King himself, the young noble felt so sorry to the Father for everything now.
Arstol continued to whisper the words to show how sorry he was to the Father. He wanted a way out; yet he was ready to bear whatever came his way.
Indeed, there were many things the young prince had done to err. But Arstol felt most sorry for shaming noble things.
The prince admitted he’d brought a huge dishonour to the sacred Book of Ages. And to the Father’s glowing sword.
To the precious unicorns bestowed him. And, yet again, to the city he was made a guardian over.
So Prince Arstol felt deeply sorry.
So then, the noble heirsen reasoned that if his defiance to the Father-of-All deserved a weighty penalty – he reasoned that he was ready to bear such a punishment.
Thus young Arstol stood in bonds and fetters in the open courts there. And he waited for the Prince of West Stongate.
Arstol hoped to find favour with the prince here so he could explain himself in a private talk with him.
But even so, he feared the chances were rather too slim, as things appeared at the moment.
Now, in the meantime, Prince Celson wrapped up the night-long meeting with Xandur of Olde Glassfield.
A fruitless meeting to catch Arstol in their net, when interestingly he was there in front of their meeting place.
Celson had just been informed that some suspicious vagabond was caught trespassing the borders of West Stongate that early morning.
But neither the informants, nor the princes scheming to catch the prey… neither party knew that the wanderer was Arstol, the Prince of Highland North.
Celson and Xandur stepped out of the governing house; still chattering about the young prince that proved too difficult to snare.
And as they descended the stairs down to the open courts, Celson nudged Xandur with an elbow.
‘Remind me what you say Arstol looks like,’ he said.
Xandur raised his gaze and his eyes simply perched on the young heirsen standing in the distance. It occurred to him right then that the figure looked so much like Arstol.
He aimed a finger at the standing one to signify to Celson what their target looked like. But then he dropped his hand the next moment.
For in that instance Xandur suspected that it was indeed Arstol – with the striking resemblance the heirsen bore to him.
But then again he doubted the possibility altogether.
No, it can’t be Arstol, can it? It can’t be. The North prince can’t be right here, and bound hands and feet in fact! It’s not Arstol. It has to be a lookalike.
Prince Celson glanced at Xandur just then, with his abrupt hesitation. ‘What is it? Did you see something?’ he queried.
Xandur parted his lips open to utter a thing or two.
And just then both scheming princes froze in their steps… as Xandur pointed dreadfully in the distance, and Celson followed his hand with a dazed, horrified glare.
For in that spectacular moment, a giant winged unicorn tore through the wind in a huge dive from the north sky down into the open courts here.
The massive beast swung its great wings in a wild, windy flap. And so much it stirred up dust and chaff in the air, and made frail armours rattle in the storm it created.
Now the brazen winged steed alighted. Beside gentle Arstol it alighted. So Arstol gazed up at the strong rider, tamer of the fearless unicorn.
He gasped out in that overwhelming moment. ‘Ah, you came! You came!’
For it was Princess Ereon. And she had come for her prince.
‘Hold out, my Arstol!’ Ereon cried. ‘Hold out, Prince of Highland North!’
Arstol pushed his hands and feet apart with a huge, wrecking force. And he stretched so hard the ropes ruptured into shreds and pieces.
Princess Ereon made the unicorn bow the next moment and leaned down to help up the captured prince.
Arstol mounted the hefty steed behind Ereon riding it. Then he leaned over into her and whispered something into her ear.
‘You came in time, Ereon!’ he gasped ‘You came at last; thank you!’
Ereon glanced back at Arstol to respond. And just then the plotters’ tongues were loosed from the shock of that moment.
So Celson stammered. ‘What… what exactly is going on? Who is that… that fellow we caught?’
Xandur stood trembling down to his feet.
‘No this isn’t happening! This is Arstol we’ve been looking to find, Your Grace! This is Arstol here! What do we do?!’ he cried.
Prince Celson was caught off-guard himself. He knew he heard Xandur right. But then what he heard was too shocking to be happening now.
He glanced at Xandur and pestered desperately. ‘Do something, Olde Glassfield! Do something, Xandur!’
Now as Ereon glanced back to answer her own prince, she heard the schemers’ desperate calls now. And she knew it was time to flee.
Even then Xandur sprinted down towards the young two. And he screamed for the guards to hold them down, as he himself raced down towards them.
At that instant Princess Ereon roused her unicorn to its feet with a steering spring. The next moment it was up in the skies above, with its wings flapping ever so fiercely.
And the steed carted away the Prince of Highland North.
Together with his beauteous princess.
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© July 2021 Kayode & Tola Olla