Cities by the Stream

“I know you are there, young stranger,” Nala said, “Why do you come here everyday to watch me but never to speak with me?”
Prince Phillip’s heart stopped. He thought he’d been so clever at hiding. He had no idea what to do; he’d never planned for this. He felt suddenly faced with a decision that would affect the course of the rest of his life, like every chance he had at being happy depended on what he chose to do right now. He stood up and stepped out from behind the bush.
“Because I was afraid,” Phillip replied.
“What are you afraid of?” Nala asked. Her gaze was level and unnerved Phillip.
He sat down on the opposite bank of the stream from Nala, if he had stretched his had across the stream he could have touched her shoulder. He did not know how to reply. There were so many things he feared, so many things that held him back. There was no simple answer, but he went with the simplest he could.
“I was afraid that if I crossed the stream to speak with you, I could not go back to my home, that way,” Phillip pointed behind him.
“We are talking how and you have not crossed the stream,” Nala pointed out.
“Yes, we are,” Phillip, agreed.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, but not the uncomfortable silence you might expect from two people who just met. It was the companionable sort that passes between old friends.
“Why do you come here every day for only four buckets of water?” Phillip asked, attempting conversation.
“My people have long revered this stream. The water here is special; I use it in my garden instead of the well near my cottage. The plants grow more beautiful and full that way,” Nala replied, “You say your home is that way?”
“Yes, my father’s kingdom lays just the other side of this forest.”
“Is it nice there?” Nala asked puzzled that someone so fair could come from land that was cursed.
“Yes,” Phillip laughed a little, thinking this a strange question; after all she was the one who lived on cursed land “it’s nice there. My mother grows beautiful plants and flowers and our people are quite peaceful. It is comfortable there. What about your home, is it nice?” Phillip was also puzzled, but felt asking “Excuse me, but are you cursed?” would be a bit rude.
Nala’s eyes lit up. “I have a beautiful garden also, full of flowers and vegetables. My cottage sits beneath the thickest trees but I get warm afternoon sun from the west. And all the creatures of the forest visit my garden to nap in the sun.”
Her smile enchanted Phillip even as it broke his heart. How could he ever hope she would leave a home she so obviously loved for him? He was uncertain of what he had to offer that she did not already have.
“It is late, handsome stranger. I must get home before sunset.”
“Call me Phillip. Will you tell me your name so we are no longer strangers?”
“Nala, my name is Nala. Shall I speak with you again tomorrow, Phillip?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“Yes, of course,” Phillip smiled.
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow,” And just like that, Phillip’s fears had come true. He had fallen in love with her.
As Phillip rode towards home he wondered what really lay on the other side of the stream. He’d always believed the legends about The Great Feud, but now he was not so sure. Nala did not seem cursed, she seemed happy. A place must be truly wonderful to make her face light up the way that hers did as she described her home. The thought of it still caused Phillip’s chest to tighten. Phillip thought about whom he could ask as he brushed his horse and fed him a carrot.
“You should have been home more than an hour ago! Where have you been?” demanded a snotty and sarcastic voice from behind him, though Phillip knew the mouth was smiling.
“I don’t see how that’s the business of a spoiled child like you,” Phillip teased back.
“In case you forgot, Brother, we are the same age!”
“Not true. I’m a full ten minutes older than you. Just ask Mother.”
“Mother is in quite a state since you neglected to show for dinner. Humming and singing and smiling like she knows some secret the rest of the world is far too stupid to figure out. Why is that, do you suppose?” his sister asked, though he was damn sure she already had guessed at the answer. His sister had always had a profound ability to know things he attempted to keep hidden.
“I don’t have the slightest idea, Kelsey,” he said, trying to sound noncommittal.
“I’ll tell you why! You spoke to her, didn’t you? That girl on the other side of the stream, you finally spoke to her.” Kelsey smiled, indeed seemed ecstatic for her brother. Phillip flushed at her shrewdness.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered, still trying to deny the obvious.
“Fine, waste as much time as you like, Phillip. Just remember the long road or the short one; they always end up in the same place.” Kelsey stood on her tiptoes and kissed her brother on the cheek.
“When you want my help, just ask,” and with that she turned and strode out of the barn.
Phillip found his mother alone in her courtyard sitting on a stone near the pond. She looked peaceful and deep in thought. Phillip turned to tiptoe out of the garden deciding to speak with his mother another time.
“Come sit with me, my son,” he heard her say, though she had not turned and seen him.
Phillip sat beside his mother. They sat in silence for sometime. An understanding that did not require words had passed between them for as long as Phillip could remember.
“Almost since the moment you and your sister were born you’ve been my curious child. You beat your sister into the world by several minutes, foreshadowing a great deal about both your personalities. You have a preference for the new and unknown. Nearly everyday of your life you’ve explored this land a little further until the day you came to the stream. Even then I knew some day you would cross it,” his mother said, breaking the silence.
Phillip made no response, knowing his mother neither expected nor wanted one. Instead, he waited patiently as he always did for her to continue. This was how it had always been. His mother would share information; he would listen patiently, knowing she’d share everything when the time was right.
“Your sister, however, has always been content with what she can stretch her hand out and touch. She does not desire to know what is beyond her grasp. She is most content with the way things are and does not preoccupy herself with the way things could be. It is this difference that drove you apart as children and brought you together as adults. You have a keen understanding of each other. Your loyalty to and respect for one another runs deeper than the blood that binds you. Each can help the other through anything.”
With this his mother stood, kissed him on the forehead and turned to go.
“Is there nothing else you would tell me, Mother?” Phillip asked, though he knew there was not.
“There is much you should know but the time is not yet right.”
There was finality in her tone Phillip was used to and had learned not to question. When he had been younger this used to frustrate him, but he had long since learned to trust his mother’s judgment.


Nala became wary as she approached her cottage. She had not lit a fire and yet smoke rose from the chimney. Golden candlelight could be seen through her windows, her lamps had been lit. When she approached the front of the cottage and recognized the white horse grazing in the grass, Nala was puzzled but no longer frightened. Nala walked into her cottage to find the man from the marketplace seated at her table. He had helped himself to tea and seemed perfectly at home, though he was obviously used to nicer things.
“You are not so hard a woman to find as I had thought,” the man smiled.
“You had not struck me as the type of man to barge into someone’s home uninvited,” Nala replied. Though, she wasn’t nearly as angry about this as she would have thought.
“Yes, sorry about that. I just wanted to speak with you this afternoon but you were gone so fast,” he said, though he didn’t seem very sorry.
“What is your name? Why did all those people get so excited when you came into the marketplace?” Nala asked as she got herself a cup of tea and sat across from him. There wasn’t the slightest apprehension in her voice, only curiosity.
“You really don’t know who I am?” Marcus asked.
“No, I do not know. And I do not enjoy having someone in my home when I don’t even know their name.”
“My name is Marcus and the people cheered because I am their King.”
Nala was uncertain how to take this information. Was he telling the truth? There was no lie in his eyes. And yet there was very little about this man that seemed kingly. Yes, he wore fine cloths and the people had cheered but Nala knew these things did not make a man a king. Marcus could tell she truly had no idea who he was. He’d never had this happen before. No matter where he went he’d never had to tell someone he was king before and knew he’d probably botched it somehow.
“Well, I can see I’ve stayed my welcome. I will leave you with your nightly routine.” Marcus stood.
Nala stood also “It was nice to meet you, Marcus, I mean, Sire. You are welcome here anytime.”
“Oh, you don’t have to call me sire. Actually, I hate it. To formal, kind of stuffy, don’t you think? So, please call me Marcus.”
“Then you may call me Nala. And I do mean you are welcome here, I don’t get many visitors.”
And just like that the awkwardness and tension melted away.
“Good night, Nala. I will visit soon,” Marcus promised, then took her hand and lightly kissed her knuckles. Nala could still feel the light pressure of his lips on her knuckles when Marcus had closed the door. She supposed it wouldn’t be right to complain about two men noticing her. After all, she had vowed to never go unnoticed again.
Nala poured herself more tea and thought about her day. She was looking forward to her next meeting with Phillip, but also found this king who sought her out strangely interesting, as well.
Nala finished her tea and decided to think about it later. For now, she would read and let what will happen unfold.

Marcus rode home, pleased with the chance he took today. He hoped to have more opportunity to see Nala. The Planting Festival would be soon and that would create plenty of reasons for her to come inside the palace city walls. He hoped she would. If Marcus was completely honest with himself, he’d never been comfortable leaving the city walls. Even when he would travel with his father to visit Dukes and other such royalty he never felt completely safe until he passed through the gates to home. Even though Nala’s cottage was so close he had the same uneasy feeling now. Were his mother alive she would be pleased that Marcus had wanted something so badly he was willing to leave the city. As Marcus passed through the city gates he felt a familiar comfort set in and knew no matter what he was safe.

When Phillip woke the next morning he felt exhilarated, thought he couldn’t pinpoint why. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something important would happen today and it made him both anxious and excited. As he was saddling his horse, Marcus noticed his mother striding purposefully toward him. She was smiling still and her happiness seemed to be bursting out of her. When she reached him she embraced him tightly.
“Make sure you are home for dinner tonight, my son. Your father and I have many wonderful things to share with you and your sister. And on your way to the stream stop in my garden and pick a few flowers for your love.” She kissed his cheek and strode away.
Phillip was greatly puzzled. His parents hardly ever made grand announcements at dinner. He wondered what it might be about. Besides that his mother never allowed anyone past the white gate of her garden; picking anything would earn you a week worth of stable cleaning. He could not believe he had just been given permission to do both. Something really wonderful must be happening. When he reached his mother’s garden he selected some particularly pretty yellow and light purple flowers, tied them with a piece of string and placed them carefully in front of him while he rode towards the stream.

Even from a distance Phillip could hear Nala’s clear beautiful voice singing. She often sang in a language Phillip did not understand but her voice was so powerful the song’s meaning was always frighteningly clear. He could tell this was a happy tale, about two lovers who fought adversity and won. It was a tale of love conquering all and it filled Phillip’s heart with hope. Phillip approached the stream and dismounted his horse leaving it to graze on the lush grass. Nala’s voice did not falter when she saw Phillip approach. She met his gaze and sang sweet and strong as if willing him to understand her words. He approached the bank of the stream and waited for her to finish. When she did he paused for a moment allowing the last of the song to wash over him.
“That was beautiful, Nala,” he said at last and handed her the flowers, “I brought these for you.”
When she took the flowers and examined them an odd expression passed through her eyes. As if this was a most unlikely gift from him.
“These are lovely,” she said as she brought them to her nose, “Where did you get them?”
“My mother grows them, among other things. She has a small garden with a white wooden fence around it, no one is allowed in save her. I’m not sure why she offered me the flowers. But these were the most beautiful and I hoped they would please you.”
“Oh, they do!” Nala settled herself down in the grass and Phillip followed suit.
They sat together for hours, telling each other about their families and homes. It felt as if they had lived beside each other their whole lives. Soon, they were laughing and giggling and had quite forgotten how important the tiny stream that separated them was.
After a while Nala picked up the flowers again and smelled them, “Where did you mother learn to grow such pretty flowers?”
“I don’t know. The garden has always been there and she has always worked in it.” Phillip replied.
“Phillip, tell your mother I said these flowers are beautiful, they catch the sunlight and reflect it a thousand fold. Tell her that exactly.” There was an urgency in Nala’s voice Phillip was puzzled about but he could see it was important to her this compliment be conveyed exactly as she said it.
“Okay, I will tell her. ‘They catch the sunlight and reflect it a thousand fold.’ I understand.” Phillip reached across the stream and took her hand to reassure her.
Nala blushed and felt oddly giddy at his touch. It took only a second to register that when Marcus had touched her hand she had not experienced this feeling. The relief was overwhelming. She knew now there was no choice to be made between these men. She decided to let the joy of that prevail and not think about crossing the stream just yet. Nala stood and smoothed her dress.
“Phillip I must go. It is late in the afternoon and I have neglected my garden too long.”
“I can not wait for you to come this evening. My mother and father have a great announcement to make and I must be home for dinner. I am sorry.”
This time Nala reached across the stream and took Phillip’s had. “It is alright. Family is very important and should be cherished.” Nala squeezed his hand and felt a pang of sadness at not having her own family to go home to.
Phillip brought Nala’s hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“I will see you tomorrow, Nala.”
“Tomorrow then,” she replied, held his had for a moment longer, then turned to go.