IT happened that Arstol only rechanneled his vain ambition as the tides turned by.
The Protector of Highland North didn’t really deal with his obsession to be like Xandur Breather of Fire. Or with the desire to battle at the Dungeon of Fears…
Again, like Xandur Prince of Olde Glassfield.
And so, the guardian knight had slowly wandered back to his desire to battle in the fields like the warrior knights… as many moons closed in to a tide or two.
But then the Protector of Highland North wasn’t particularly after fighting at that dreaded dungeon.
No, Arstol didn’t aim to go down to the dungeon anymore. Especially since he wasn’t instituted a battlefield knight.
But still the North prince wanted to teach the theories of battling at the dungeon – from everything he’d thoroughly gleaned from the Book of Ages.
Arstol wanted to talk about battling for bastards. As much as it could satisfy the loss of his giant dream, in fact.
And so, the North prince woke up one day and he established a large academy within the city’s giant citadel.
There at the academy, Arstol begun to give talks and instructions about the great Battle for Bastards.
And not even Ereon Princess of Highland North could stop her prince from dreaming wild. Particularly now that the obsession was re-growing monstrously inside him.
However, Arstol’s academy was filled with several many unwilling citizens mandated to participate.
There were no battle flames in their eyes. Nor were there hungers for battle spoils in their voices.
No, Arstol’s listeners were as indifferent and blasé as the inhabitants of a protected fort. And nothing that their Protector said ever got them wanting to plunder the Dungeon yet.
But then a day came that a frustrated Arstol asked the small assembly to vote about the closure of his new academy.
And just before his dispassionate disciples put down their stance on small pieces of parchment… just before then, a certain heirsen stood up amid the seated listeners and poured out burning words.
‘We can go for war!’ he roared. ‘Let us go and plunder the camp of bastards. For we are able men; we can plunder all of it!’
Arstol raised his downcast head straight up. He glared at the young, bold heirsen.
The words the heirsen spoke were similar to something he’d read several times before in the sacred Book of Ages.
And those words were spoken in that ancient book by two noble spies and fearless warriors. Their names, Kaleb and Yehoshua.
But then Prince Arstol never suspected that the heirsen here was indeed a spy, too. Only that he wouldn’t ever call him noble, if he did know who he was.
For here, the heirsen’s burning words were only a snare. And that youngster had been sent to plunder Arstol and all of him.
Arstol glared at the astute heirsen with a glitter of amazement in his own eyes. Then he finally uttered something.
‘What… what is your name, friend?’ he stuttered.
But just then, some other voices rose among Arstol’s pupils with similar stances as the first speaker.
And they were closing into a dozen bolder voices, clamouring and agitating over the same thing.
‘Yes, we can go for the war; we can!’
‘Highland North must be expanded by us!’
‘Together we will plunder the dreaded dungeon!’
But Arstol was surprised with the sudden clamours. And he glanced round to see what had happened to his people all of a sudden.
However, the Prince of Highland North never knew that it wasn’t his people clamouring now.
Arstol never knew that the hedge of his fold had just been torn down. And camouflaging wolves were now mingling with the innocent flock.
Yes, Prince Arstol wondered what suddenly changed about his people. But it wasn’t the people of Highland North speaking up now.
It was the spies instigating his people.
Indeed, now, the waves of that clamour did spread across the seated assembly; and in a short while the actual citizens were joining in the excited demand.
The whole assembly weren’t asking for the academy to simply continue now. Or else the clamours wouldn’t have lasted for a long while.
But then Arstol’s disciples and indeed everyone in the North city were now clamouring that they go to battle at Dungeon of Fears.
They demanded that they were enlisted for the warfare itself.
Now, when Arstol saw what his small obsession had burgeoned into, he feared he was plying the same path that made an alien prince capture him earlier.
Yet the North prince was having a second thought. And as he strolled back to his work chamber, he silently pondered it.
But I went to battlefield alone then. Yet today, I am going with disciples trained in the acts of war.
Yesterday I went as one man; but today I am going back as a nation. That is clearly an advancement, I suppose.
Really, Arstol! This is a victorious advancement!
So then there was no stopping the Prince of the North anymore. He was determined and nothing could deter him.
And thus did word about Arstol’s plans travel to his enemies’ ears…
As far as to Xandur in Olde Glassfield.
And then to Celson in West Stongate.
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© July 2021 Kayode & Tola Olla