The Rightful King

Chapter 1: Friends

         Today had definite promise.  The sun had begun rising earlier, so, at 6:30 this morning I had lovely sunlight streaming through my window.  My boyfriend of two years, Benjamin, was coming over to see me.  This was the first initiative he had taken since his accident.
         Seven months ago Benjamin had gotten into a car accident that left him with a brain injury.  While his brain was healing he would go through phases where he would be depressed, hyperactive, and normal.  He was more himself this week and he asked me if he could come over today.  I eagerly agreed.  I had missed him so much these passed seven months.  When he was depressed or hyperactive I wasn’t allowed to talk to him because he did and said some very abnormal things such as, singing constantly, laughing manically, or randomly crying.  It was painful to witness, but I knew he was worth it.  I loved him, and that was all that mattered.
         At nine o’clock I stood waiting on my front porch, stretching in the sun.  My house was located in the center of a vast forest.  Throughout the woods ran paths that I walked everyday.  I loved my woods.  They provided a place of quiet contemplation and thought.  Sometimes I found myself imagining I was a medieval princess lost in the forest.  So much for being seventeen!
         I was pulled out of my reverie when I saw a dark red truck bump down my gravel driveway.  Benjamin was here!  His dad was in the passenger seat.  Benjamin couldn’t drive by himself yet, he had just gotten the privilege back a month ago and he wasn’t quite ready for solo driving just yet. 
         Smiling, I ran up to his car door and breathed an excited “hey!”  Benjamin smiled back as he got out of the car, “Hey Anne, I wanted to talk to you about something.”  I nodded enthusiastically, just happy to be around him.  I drank in his face: his beautiful hazel green eyes, his wavy brown hair, his crooked smile.  How I missed him! 
         “Hello Mr. John, thank you for letting Benjamin come over to see me” I said to Benjamin’s dad. 
         “Anytime,” he replied, making no motion to get into the drivers seat. 
         “Did you want to come in and talk to my parents?” I asked him, curious to why he wasn’t leaving.
         “Oh no, Benjamin just wants to talk to you real quick and then we’re going to head back.”
         “Oh,” I whispered, disappointed.  I turned to Benjamin, “What did you want to talk about?”
         “Can we go sit on your porch swing, Anne?”  He motioned to the porch swing swaying gently in the breeze.  I nodded and followed him over to it.  We both sat down and an uncomfortable feeling began gnawing its way into my stomach.
         “Benjamin, is something wrong?” I asked him.  He didn’t look at me at first, but then he swallowed and faced me. 
         “What is our relationship status right now?”  I stared at him, confused.  Where is he going with this, I wondered.
         “Well, we’re still together, but we’re more friends now I guess, since you can’t really be a ‘boyfriend’ to me right now.  But we’re still officially together.  You’re still my boyfriend.”
         “That’s the thing,” began Benjamin, “I think we should be just friends.”  My heart felt as if it suddenly jumped into my throat.  I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move.  I didn’t answer him I was so shocked.  Friends, he didn’t mean that, did he?  My thoughts were moving so sluggishly that Benjamin repeated himself.
         “Anne?  Did you hear me?”  He stared down at me, a blank stare, like this wasn’t killing him like it was killing me. 
         “W-why?”  I stammered, still not comprehending.  I had done so much for him, suffered so much for him!  Didn’t he love me?
         “I think we should just be friends.”  That wasn’t even an answer, he was just repeating himself.  I stood up suddenly, anger coursing through my veins.  How dare he!  How dare he!  In a single leap I was off my porch and running into the woods.  I was running away from him, from his face.  He didn’t love me anymore.  Why?  How?  When?  And his dad knew!  How could his dad agree with this? 
         My feet pounded down the path to the rhythm of my breaking heart.  I loved him.  I loved him.  I was still in total shock.  Veering off the well-worn path I darted into the underbrush.  Today was going to be such a good day.  How could things have changed so drastically? 
         I slowed down, gulping in breaths of stinging cool air.  I bent over holding my stomach.  I felt nauseous and I was shaking uncontrollably.  When I finally had my breathing under control I looked up.  I had no idea where I was.  I had never been in this part of the woods before.  In front of me there was a large oak tree, with limbs bent low to the ground.  It was a perfect climbing tree.
         As I climbed I reprimanded myself.  I was running away again, like I always did.  I could never face my problems or say how I felt.  What was I thinking?  I climbed limb after limb, finally reaching the tallest point of the tree.  The fresh air made me feel a bit better.  I was almost fifty feet in the air.  The earth bellow looked so far away, but I wasn’t afraid.  I was so far removed from everything, so wrapped up in my thoughts, I wasn’t afraid of heights just now.  Tears ran down my cheeks and I beat against the tree trunk, anger and pain flaring up inside of me.  Soon my palm was bruised and bloody.  The physical pain returned my common sense and I abruptly stopped. 
         Well, I couldn’t stay up in this tree forever.  Slowly I began climbing down, careful of my palm.  As I put my foot down on a thinner branch I heard a snapping sound and suddenly I was falling through the air.  My mind whirled as I hurtled to the ground.  A piercing, agonizing pain flashed through my skull and then my mind when blank.

Chapter 2: 1392

         The first thing I was aware of was pain, piercing pain in my head and right arm.  Then foul smells began hitting my sensitive nose.  I felt my stomach heave and I quickly turned my head, agonizing as it was, to heave up whatever was in my stomach.  Moaning I rolled onto my back, pain causing the edges of my vision to dim.  My eyes were greeted by a gray sky.  Around me were small wooden buildings and ambling people.  I forced myself to sit and then stand.  My vision swam violently and my stomach threatened to empty out whatever it had left.  I looked around me, confused.  Where was I?  My head was muddled and I couldn’t get a good understanding of what was going on.  I slowly began staggering to the nearest building and leaned on it.  I had to get home.  But home, where was that?  Did I have a home?
         I felt the stares of the townspeople bearing into me, but I was in too much pain to move.  A cool hand brushed across my forehead, “Hey, are you all right?”  I glanced up into a pair of hazel eyes; I knew those eyes, didn’t I?  I answered with a groan. 
“Do I know you from somewhere?” the stranger asked me, a confused expression evident on his handsome face.  I recognized that voice from somewhere, didn’t I?  My legs suddenly collapsed beneath me and strong arms caught me.
         “Shhh Shhh” He whispered.  Who was this man?  I looked up at him one more time; his lovely eyes were the last thing I saw before I lost consciousness.
         
         The growling of my stomach caused me to open my sleep encrusted eyes.  I was in a small room lying on a cot.  Beside my bed there was a small table filled with water.  I slowly sat up and a cloth fell from my forehead, landing in my lap.  The door across from me opened, causing me to jump.  A slender woman entered, carrying a bowl of soup and spoon. 
         “You seem much improved” she said, placing the tray down on the table beside my bed, “are you up to some broth?”  I nodded my head vigorously, regretting it almost immediately.  I reached up with my left hand to touch my head, finding cloth wrappings around it.  I realized suddenly that my right arm was encased in a tightly wound casing.
         “What happened?  Where am I?”  I asked the girl, taking a sip of my broth.
         “Well, Benedict found you on the street, feverish and semi-conscious.  He brought you here and watched over you until your fever broke.  He had to leave this morning to go work on Sir Frederick’s farm.”
         “How long have I been here?” I asked.  Something felt odd about this place.  No matter how much I tried to remember what had happened before I’d come here, I couldn’t.
         “A week or so,” the girl replied, pulling a chair beside my bed.  “My name is Joan.  I’m Benedict’s sister.  How are you feeling?”
         “Much better, I think.”  She smiled reassuringly at me, taking my now empty bowl. 
         “So, what’s your name?”
         “I don’t know,” I murmured, searching my memories for something, anything, but I kept drawing a blank 
         “Well, I found this odd thing in your pocket; I don’t know what it is, some kind of glass, maybe?”  Joan handed me a small plastic card out of her apron.  I stared at it.  It was a picture of me.  I read the card, coming down to my name: Anne May Silverstein.  So, my name was Anne, but why was I on this card?  I read it again.  It was a Drivers License.  Nerves started firing in my brain and I realized what this meant.  Where was I and how did I get here?
         “Well, does that help at all?”  Joan prompted.  I realized quickly that I had been staring at my driver’s license for over ten minutes.
         “Yes, yes, it does help.  This says that my name is Anne.  But I don’t know where I came from or how I got here.  But this card is a driver’s license.  It’s so I can drive a car.”  Joan’s face screwed up into a bewildered expression,
         “Car..?  What is a car?”  I stared at her, in shock.  She didn’t know what a car was.
         “Where am I?” I asked and then I quickly corrected myself, “What year is this?”
         “Well, dearest Anne, which I must admit is a very foreign name, the year is 1392 in the year of our Lord.”  I froze.  There was no way.  I cannot have time traveled.  My hands began shaking and I pulled my knees up to my chest.  A voice suddenly boomed through the house, “Jooooooo-Annnnn!”
         “Benedict’s back!  He’ll be so happy that you’re awake, Anne, he was so concerned!”  Joan quickly hurried out the door, leaving it open.  I pulled my covers back looking down at the flimsy nightgown I was wearing.  Rethinking my previous plans of going to see this ‘Benedict’ I quickly pulled my covers back over me. 
         I lay down on my straw stuffed pillow and closed my eyes, trying to force my brain to remember.  Images flashed through my brain: running, climbing, falling, and pain.  The sensations ran through my body and a pair of hazel eyes flashed behind my closed eyes.
         “So, you’re Anne?” That voice, who was it?  I opened my eyes and stared at the man before me.  He was dressed in a baggy linen shirt with tight brown trousers and black boots.  His eyes were a memory jogging hazel green and his hair was tousled with brown waves.
         “Y-you must be Benedict.”  I stammered.  He smiled at me and sat down. 
         “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
         “You just remind me of someone, I think.” I muttered, giving up trying to connect thoughts.
         “That’s funny, because I feel the same way about you.  A serious case of de ja vu, huh?  So, Joan tells me that you don’t remember anything.  And something about cars…?”
         “Well, I don’t think I come from this time…unless this is a renaissance fair, or something?” I asked hopefully.  His puzzled look answered my question, “just forget it…” I sighed.  He shook his head at me and rubbed his face. 
“Well I’m glad you’re awake.  Joan will bring in some clothes for you.  I’ll take you for a walk around town to see if we can jog that sluggish memory of yours, eh?”  With one last smile he walked out of the room.  I stared after him in confusion.  The name Benjamin popped into my head unbidden.  Benjamin.  Who was that?


Chapter 3: The Messenger

         I stared down at the simple wool dress I wore.  It was died a rich blue and actually made me look half decent.  Joan had removed the wrappings around my head and washed the big gash on the right side of my forehead.  It was healing nicely she had commented.  My right arm was sore, but I didn’t need it to be re-wrapped. 
         Joan smiled at me, “My, Anne, you’re beautiful.  I think we should just keep your hair down like that.  It’s handsome.”  I smiled at her, not quite convinced.  Almost the whole right side of my head was black and blue.  I had convinced myself that I was dreaming and that I would eventually wake up, I just had to play along.
         A knock sounded on the door, “Can I come in?” Benedict asked from the other side. 
         “Course Benedict,” Joan said, running her fingers down my hair before ushering me towards the door, “Anne dear is all ready.”  The door opened and Benedict smiled down at me, “Well, you sure clean up nicely.”  I glared at him; Joan giving me false compliments was one thing, but Benedict, no way.  Besides, I was aggravated at him for causing an uncomfortable feeling in my chest every time I saw him. 
         “Whoa, someone’s upset.”  Benedict joked as he led me out the door.  I rolled my eyes, feeling more like myself.  If this was a dream, then I should enjoy it.  What if Benedict reminded me of someone I couldn’t place, who cared?
         Out on the street the sun shone down on the bustling travelers.  It felt so wonderful to be outside.  On the perimeter of the town stood a dense forest, it immediately called to me.  I turned to Benedict, “Um, can we go into the forest instead?”  He raised an eyebrow at me, which made him even more adorable.
         “Uh, sure, if that’s what you’d like.”  I smiled, walking as quickly as my injured head and arm would allow towards the outlying trees.
         Once under the shade of the trees I breathed in a steadying breath.  Benedict walked beside me whistling a familiar tune.  I felt comfortable and relaxed. 
         “Thank you.” I said as we wandered deeper into the woods.  He smiled down at me and winked.  I suppressed a blush and turned my attention to the bucolic beauty around me. 
         It seemed as if we’d been walking for hours when Benedict suddenly stopped whistling.  “Do you hear that?”  He asked me quickly.  I paused, midstride, and cocked my head, trying to listen.  I shook my head, not daring to speak.  The woods had suddenly gone uncomfortably silent.  Benedict grabbed my good arm and pulled me into the underbrush.  He motioned me to kneel beside him and whispered in my ear.
         “I think someone’s coming.”  Right after he finished his sentence the sound of hoof beats pierced through the silent forest.  The horse’s rider toppled from the saddle, five arrows protruding from his back.  Benedict quickly jumped from the brush and ran to the rider.  I followed, afraid to make a sound.
         “Geoffrey, is that you?” Benedict whispered to the dying man.  The man coughed and blood dripped out the side of his mouth.  “B-Benedict, he knows, he’s coming.”  With his message delivered the man released his soul and passed on.  Benedict cursed and faced me. 
         “Sorry Anne, I didn’t mean to get you involved in all of this.”  I stared at him in confusion.
         “Sorry about what?”  This wasn’t making sense, what was going on.  Benedict strode over to me and placed a warm hand on my shoulder.  I looked up into his eyes and saw a mixture of pain and anger.  “Anne, I need to bury Geoffrey, he was one of my closet friends.  Could you help me?” 
         “You needn’t have asked, Benedict.”  I said moving over the Geoffrey’s body.  I’d never seen a dead man before and the sight was sobering.  Benedict pulled the arrows from Geoffrey’s body and dragged him off the road.  I began piling rocks around him, creating an above ground grave.  The process took more than two hours and, though I wouldn’t admit it, the task was extremely taxing.  I stared up at the sky above the trees.  The sun was beginning to set.  A strange vapor drifted across the sky.  I stared more at it more closely, wondering what it was.  A sudden fear overwhelmed me. 
“Benedict!  I see smoke!  I think it’s coming from your village!”  Benedict jumped into standing position, unconcealed fear blazing in his eyes, “Joan!” 
         Benedict dashed into the woods leaving me to follow him, fighting exhaustion.  Thoughts churned in my mind as I tried to piece together who this Geoffrey was, well, who he had been.  I stumbled over a rock on the path, but quickly regained my balance.  If I fell I would lose sight of Benedict and then I would really be in trouble. 
         We finally emerged from the forest, me gasping for air, Benedict, looking as cool and as fresh as if he had just woken from a restful sleep.  Hot air hit my face and I looked up.  There was a fire, a huge fire!  Benedict’s house was on fire!  One thought coursed through my mind: Joan.  Screams pierced the night air.  “HELP ME!  PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!”  That was Joan’s voice. 
“No!” Benedict screamed, trying to find a way to break through the wall of flames.  Townspeople gathered around watching as Benedict yelled to his dying sister.  Anger flared in my chest.  How could these people just stand there and do nothing?
“What are you doing?” I yelled at them, “Don’t just stand there!  Get buckets of water from a stream!”  The people ignored me, some spit at my feet.  What kind of people were they?  There was a sudden explosion that knocked me to my knees.  An anguished cry pierced through the night air.  I looked up to see Benedict, burned and bloody lying four feet away from me.  I staggered over to him and knelt beside him.  He looked up at me, eyes full of anger, pain…and something feral, something dangerous. 
“Benedict…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say.  He shook his head and covered his face with his hands.  “She was my last living relative, I’m all alone now.”  I put my good hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him, but not knowing how.  I’d never lost a sister before, especially in this way.  How cruel and barbaric.  This wasn’t how my dream was supposed to go.
“Come on, Benedict, let’s get you cleaned up.  We’ll figure everything out, but right now, you need to take care of yourself.”  Benedict let me usher him away from the still burning house into the woods. 
The woods were very familiar to me.  I was able to find a small creek where I quickly washed and dressed Benedict’s wounds with the cloth from my dress.  I’d have to wake up early tomorrow to see if I could find something for us to eat.  Benedict hadn’t spoken a word since we entered the forest.  He didn’t cry, he didn’t yell, he just sat in silence.  I laid a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t look up.  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, then left him to his grief.

Chapter 4: Benedict’s Past

         Panic gripped me as soon as I opened my eyes.  The canopy of trees above me was not the ceiling in my room.  I sat up and looked next to me to see Benedict, still asleep.  Oh, I was still dreaming, lovely. 
         The day had dawned gray and misty, giving the forest a ghostly air.  I had to admit, I was kind of scared, being awake all by myself.  I moved to Benedict and slowly shook his shoulder, trying to wake him.  At first he only groaned, but eventually he began opening his eyes.  He looked up at me first with confusion and then recognition.  As the slow realization of what happened last night dawned on him, his eyes lost their playful mirth. 
         “Oh, Joan.” He moaned, sitting up.  I gave him a reassuring smile, “we can go back to your village and see if—“.  I was cut off abruptly by his raised hand.  He shook his head, “I can’t go back there, if I do, I’ll be killed.”  Okay, something weird must be going on here.  Or maybe I was at the point in the dream where things get very weird.
         “What do you mean you can’t go back?”  I asked him.  His eyes bore into my face as if he was testing me.  Finally his lowered his gaze and clenched his hands into fists.
         “Anne, where do you live?  I need to take you home.  I can’t have you getting involved anymore than you already are.”  If only I knew where home was or how to get there.
         “I can’t, I think somehow I’ve been sent….back in time?” I might as well be honest with him, I decided, “But I’m even surer that this is probably a dream.”  Benedict stared at me for a moment, causing and uncomfortable tightness in my stomach.
         “You couldn’t be…could you?”  This time I stared at him in confusion, what was going on?  “Anne, what’s your full name?” He asked me again. 
         “Anne May Silverstein.” I answered.  His eyebrows furrowed in confusion then he let out a gasp, stood up, and began pacing.
         “You’re supposed to be a man, not a little girl!  How could you possibly help me?”  How dare he?  A little girl!  So maybe I imagined things a little girl might imagine, but I was seventeen!  I stood up angrily and stalked over to him.
         “Excuse me, but I am seventeen, I am quite capable, and I have no idea what you are talking about!”  Benedict stopped pacing and looked down at me, resolve shining in his eyes.  He motioned for me to sit.  I sat and he followed.
         “Okay Anne, I wish I knew where to start…” he muttered, playing with his hands.  I rolled my eyes, “Just start at the beginning.”
         He looked up and smiled at me, “good idea.  I’m sorry; I’ve just never had to explain what was going on in France to anyone before.  We’ve all been living it for so long, I—“  I cleared my throat, interrupting his rambling.  He stopped abruptly and began to explain, “King Henry VI is my half brother.  When I was very young I was kidnapped from the castle and kept in an underground ‘safe house’.  There I was trained in archery, swordsmanship, and horse riding.  When I was seventeen my half brothers men found the safe house and killed everyone inside.  He then captured me and locked me inside the castle.  The next morning I was to be killed for treason. 
         “That night a very old man, claiming to be a minister, came to my room, claiming he was to give me my last rights.  His name was Silverstein, he was no mere minister.  He was the most powerful mage in the European empire.  He explained to me that I was the rightful king, but my insane half-brother had killed my parents and taken the throne by force.  I was the only thing standing in the way of his total control over France. 
         “He was to help me escape, even though it would be his death.  Before he cast his final spell on me he told me to watch and wait for his future ancestor who would come and clear the way to put me on the throne. 
         “His spell landed me in the village we just came from in the house of Joan.  She was one of Silverstein’s closest advisors, for what it was worth.  I lived there in happiness for four years, without telling anyone else my secret, until now.”
         I stared at him in confusion.  His life was one pain after another.  He had been hunted his whole life just because some king was afraid he would rule.  I cleared my throat and looked at him, “What does this have to do with me?”  I asked him.
         “Don’t you see,” he said with an exasperated sigh, “you are Silverstein’s descendent.  You have his power inside of you.  You are going to help me take back my throne.”  This was not happening.  Me, have power, magic?  It wasn’t possible!  And how was I, a mere seventeen year old girl, supposed to place Benedict on the throne of France?
         “I-I don’t think so Benedict, I have never used magic in my life.  Ever.”  His shoulders sagged and he shook his head.  I was overwhelmed with an overpowering sense of guilt.  I let out a sigh and decided on my plan of action.  My idea that this was a dream was becoming less and less convincing each moment.  Maybe I was sent here to make Benedict King.  The fear of it all made me want to jump to me feet and run into the forest, but I resisted the urge.  I looked at Benedict’s handsome face.  He would make a good king, I realized.  He would be fair, kind, and intelligent.  Well, I guess my decision had been made, “Benedict.  I will help you become king, but, to be honest, I don’t know how to use a weapon, let alone these ‘powers’ I supposedly have.”
         “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Benedict laughed, suddenly full of happiness, “I can teach you the weapons part, the magic part, I think you’ll figure that out in time.”