Invitations

Invitations

Once upon a time there was a King, and his name was Andrew. King Andrew
was a great reader of books, of the writings of great scholars of his
age, and of the stories of antiquity. Indeed it was said by some that
he lived more than half in a tale, and although they meant it as
admonishment for his airy, dreamlike ways the King took it as something
of a compliment. If nothing else it meant that he knew of certain
important rules, which is why his wife was more than a little shocked
when, after the birth of their first child, he announced the guest list
for the christening.

"Husband." She said in that way wives have, condensing into a single
word the weight of years of matrimony. "I cannot help but notice that
you have invited all of the lords of the wilder places to the
ceremony."

"Indeed I have." Her husband replied. "It is customary."

"But you have invited ALL the lords of the wilder places."

"I have."

"The Golden Lady of the Wood I can understand." The lady began. "The
King of the White Peaks, proud as he is must be invited. The Laughing
Man is welcome, and I accept that we cannot invite him without his
twin, although I will find it hard to allow the Weeping Lady into my
home?"

"Joy does not come without sorrow my darling, and it is better to have
both than neither."

"This I know, and I would not say other. Nor would I oppose your
invitation of the Princess of Stars or the Marquis of the Spray. But my
husband, my lord, why oh why did you have to invite Him?"

"Him? Lord Mal?"

"Name him not I beg of you. It brings ill fortune merely to speak of
Him, much less to invite him openly into your home in gilt
letters."

"You would that I had excluded Him? Him alone, amongst all the wilder
lords you would have me snub? Have you read none of the old
tales?"

"This is not a tale Andrew, this is our life. Our daughter."

"And you would risk passing on to her the displeasure of Lord? of the
Blooded Brow?"

"Better that than invite the Hand That is Ruin to touch our child, than
to invite the Prince With a Thousand Names to our daughter's most
sacred rite of passage."

"And what would you say to him, to the Voice Without Mercy when he
arrives of his own accord, and he will arrive of his own accord and
make no mistake about it for he most of all the wilder lords goes where
he will, what will you say to him when he asks in tones dripping honey
and vitriol why we did not invite him? Will you tell him the truth,
that we fear to let him near our daughter, or will you hope somehow to
catch him with lies. It will not work my dearest wife it simply will
not work. We must invite him, or face his displeasure, and that we
cannot do."

And at this his wife saw that he was perhaps right, and certainly not
to be dissuaded. Besides, the damage had been done, and whatever
offence would be given by simply "forgetting" to invite the Cruellest
Prince, to offer invitation and then to rescind it would be a thousand
times worse.

So the day of the christening came, and the gentry and the nobility
came from miles around. The atmosphere was joyous and the streets
filled with rejoicing as the rites of naming were executed, and the
name of the princess proclaimed. Helena, for her grandmother. With the
rites concluded and the sun beginning to set, the time came for the
wilder lords to emerge, and to offer their blessings to the
child.

First came the Princess of Stars, a maiden she seemed, although her age
was beyond mountains. Her dress was spun of silver and her hair black
but woven here and there with bright jewels. To the child she gave
great vision and great foresight. Next came the Golden Lady of the
Wood, proud and strong, golden haired and auburn skinned, and dressed
in a cloak of fallen leaves, and to the child she gave strength and
health. After the lady came the King of the White Peaks, attired in
feathers and the skins of beasts, and to the child he gave wit and
song. Then came the Marquis of the Spray, a boisterous man in sailors
garb who granted wealth and fortune. At last the Laughing Man and the
Weeping Lady stepped forth as one their faces both beautiful and
grotesque, and gave to the child a heart that would often know joy, and
ever weather sorrow.

And for a moment, as it so often is in the tales, it seemed that would
be the end of it. But as the assembly shifted as if to ask if it was
okay for them to leave, a final figure entered the great hall. Tall,
and dressed in sombre robes of stained grey satin, his left hand
clutched a dagger barbed most cruelly while his right was withered and
palsied. His face was gaunt and angular, his eyes like those of a dead
man and about his narrow lips were the faintest traces of blood. He was
the Nightmare Lord, the Murderous Eye, the Blooded Brow. He was the
Prince with a Thousand Names.

He glided over to the cradle where the child lay, and he fixed her in
his gaze. Then he bent down to the child and whispered to her. He
stood, and as he turned to go, the voice of the Queen rang out across
the hall.

"What. What did you give her?"

The Prince With A Thousand Names turned and smiled a smile that had
only the scantest claim to the title. It was bereft of warmth, of any
feeling at all. It was not even cruel.

"A dream." He replied. And then he left.

So the Princess Helena grew up. She was bright and strong, quick in
mind and body and beloved by all, indeed it was said that she was the
greatest treasure in all her father's Kingdom. This was not entirely
flattery, for her father's Kingdom was a poor one - beset by enemies on
all sides, and from within by the depredations of bandits - and it had
few other treasures to speak of. Farseeing and insightful Helena knew
well the state of her father's Kingdom, and knew also that although the
man was kindly and learned in many ways, he had much to learn when it
came to the proper management of a Kingdom, and there were many hard
truths which he was too soft hearted to see for what they were. Or so
it seemed to Helena.

As she grew she was given more responsibilities, for her father and her
mother were taxed already beyond their limits. With the lands she was
given she raised taxes and raised regiments, in order that the roads
may be properly guarded, and her tenants prospered in the new climate
of order. So she grew in years and in power, her regiments and her
guards rooting out the spies of foreign Kingdoms as well as the more
mundane criminals, and making the Kingdom strong once more.

In Helena's sixteenth year, her parents sought to find her a husband,
but to no avail. She was already far too wedded to the Kingdom. In her
twenty-first, they died within a week of one another, and left her
Queen. She felt no joy at her exaltation, for she had loved both of her
parents dearly. However she also loved her Kingdom, for it was hers now
and hers alone. So she went about her duties with a steadfast heart,
and in the name of her mother she raised taxes to raise armies, and to
rebuild the Kingdom in a new age. In the name of her father she built
libraries and schools, great centres of learning that would become
famed throughout the lands, for she knew this would have pleased him.
And far abroad many Kings and princes heard tell of the young Queen,
and her Kingdom of wonders and glories, and they brought their suit to
her, seeking to claim the Kingdom for themselves. She refused them, for
she would not surrender her Kingdom to the authority of another.

Five years passed, and the Kingdom grew strong and prosperous, but the
people cried out for a King. Rebellion stirred in the West, and though
it was swiftly put down, its leaders found and beheaded, discontent
grew in the Kingdom, for a Kingdom does not like to be without an heir
for too long. Seeing the need for a husband, but unwilling to swallow
all of her pride, she turned to her last suitor, the King of the South.
To him she made one last offer. She would accept his suit, and their
Kingdoms would be united, if he would only allow her to remain lord
over her own lands. He refused.

So, to Helena's mind there was but one course of action remaining. Her
Kingdom had grown strong over the years, and its armies now were
formidable. They marched south. It should scarcely need to be said that
the King of the South had not expected such, and was certainly not
prepared for the strength of the attack. The armies of Queen Helena
swept from North to South, and the armies of the South crashed against
her and were broken. And when next she came to the castle of the King
of the South it was in triumph and glory, and she brought to the King
her new proposal. That he would surrender, or he would be destroyed. He
chose surrender, and his Kingdom became the first province in an
empire. The King of the South became the warden of the Southern
provinces, and he oversaw the rebuilding and the reshaping of the lands
he once held his own in the image of the foreign Queen. In her name he
built great works, theatres and galleries and libraries, always
libraries.

And so it was and so it continued. The empire, for such it was now,
prospered, and grew strong and secure. In the North once again
rebellion stirred, and once more it was defeated, and its leaders found
and drawn and quartered. And the Queen, still in need of a husband that
her dynasty not die with her turned to the King in the West, and made
him this offer. That she would accept his suit, if he would accept her
as empress. He declined, as politely as possible, saying that he could
not give his Kingdom so easily to another. So the armies of the empire
marched west.

The Western campaign was short and brutal, the King of the West had
been no warrior, and his armies were as children before the Queen's
well-drilled, well-trained forces. When she came to the King to ask his
surrender he gave it without hesitation or condition, and accepted
exile without a word. So the Queen gave the West into the hands of her
more trusted vassals, and charged them to keep the order, to rebuild
and rearm. This they did, and the West was, soon enough, as prosperous
as ever it had been.

Still the Queen was without husband, and without heir, so she turned to
the King of the East. Still proud, but having little wish to go the way
of the West, the King of the East having met in secret with the King of
the North, and the former King of the South, and when he declined the
offer of the Queen he had the surety of support. So as Empress Helena
marched east, she met resistance from the North, and rebellion from the
South, and it seemed for a while that she would at last taste defeat.
But she was blessed by the lords of the wilder places, given to her was
great vision and foresight blessed by the Princess of Stars herself,
and she had not left her borders unguarded, or her allies unwatched. So
the reinforcements from the North met with ambush, while the rebels in
the South found that the eyes of the Queen were many, and her arms
long. So the East was broken, and the southern rebels unmasked and
executed and their families and associates with them.

That left the North, already beaten and broken it fell with barely a
whisper, its king and his family caught and beheaded, as befits
royalty. And so she became such an Empress as had never been seen
before, and has never been seen since. Her domain one of order, and her
rule one of peace, for those who would disturb the peace were shown no
mercy. She reigned so for many years, and built much that lasts still.
In her thirty-first year she married a lesser baron, his name now lost
to history, but she bore no children and it is said that she ordered
imprisoned or murdered all those of her husband's line, that the throne
should not pass from her family. When finally she died, her Empire fell
for want of an heir, and much of her legacy was lost. But much
remained, and the scholars speak of her to this day, Helena the Great,
daughter of Andrew the Scholar, Empress, tyrant, Blessed of the Prince
With A Thousand Names.