Old Tales Retold

Old Tales Retold

Alexandra A. Cheshire

Published by Howling Wolf Books at Smashwords

Copyright 2015 Alexandra A. Cheshire

Cover Image Copyright 2015 Tammy Therrien

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters, events and places in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people or places past or present is strictly coincidental.

Table of Contents

Her Mother's Legacy

A Perfect Rose

Just Passing Through

The Jealous Queen

A Gamble for Security

A Friend in Need

His Highness's Ball

Something Worth More Than Gold

The Tamest Bear in the Forest

Magic Gone Wrong

About Alexandra A. Cheshire

Other Works by Alexandra A. Cheshire

For Dad

For all the evenings spent reading out loud.

Her Mother's Legacy

He surveys the aftermath: The fallen bodies, the smoking useless vehicle, the crater left by the mine. Then his eyes rise to the seemingly peaceful forest on either side of the road. He had known few traveled this way. Hence his choice of route. After the last season, he hadn't wanted the attention traveling a more used route would have entailed.

But now his closest friend, his loyal bodyguard, and his respected tutor all lie dead on the side of an old road in the middle of nowhere. He has neither transportation nor means of communication. All the vehicle's electronics seem drained of power. At least the brigands are as dead as his companions. However, when he braces himself to search them, he finds nothing of use. He can't imagine how these men lived out here.

The late afternoon sun drops behind the trees. A chill breeze springs up immediately and he shivers.

Looking around again, he spots a bright star twinkling amongst the treetops. At first he dismisses it and continues looking. Then his eyes return to what is evidently a manmade light shining from something too regular in shape to be a tree. Hoping a manmade light signals the presence of something other than more brigands, he sets off towards it.

Never had it occured to him just how much of a city boy he truly is. He sets off into the wild forest with nothing more than the clothes on his back and an expectation of a short, half pleasant hike. Instead, he spends a whole night staggering and dragging himself over uneven ground, through thorny undergrowth and across deceptively deep streams of frigid water. Come dawn he is soaked and chilled through, scratched and bruised and utterly exhausted. And still seemingly as far from his intended destination as he started. He staggers another step before dropping to his knees and pitching forward.

As he struggles towards consciousness, he can smell wet earth. The cold assaults him next, quickly recalling his current predicament to mind. He is less exhausted, but still wet and sore. He eases himself onto all fours, abused muscles screaming all the way. An attempt to gain his feet results in an awkward sprawl on the ground.

But when he looks up, he can see the light again, so he settles for crawling towards it.

Again, he spends the night dragging himself through the forest. However, by dawn he has lost sight of the light above him and encountered a vine covered stone wall.

Re-energized by the discovery of something made by men, he uses the wall to haul himself to his feet. Still staggering from cold, pain, and exhaustion, he sets out to examine his find.

The wall stretches a good ten meters or more and forms one side of a tall square stone tower. Looking up, he can see windows near the top. However, he can't seem to find a door at ground level. Disappointment overcomes his second wind and the world goes black.

He is sure he is dreaming. He is warm, dry, rested, and yet not being scolded or fawned over. He knows he can't be at home or any other familiar place. So where is he?

Sir? The voice is unfamiliar. Female though and he finds himself hoping as pretty as she sounds.

His eyelids don't want to open and it takes a real effort to get one to crack. Through the crack he can see flames. Both eyes fly open and he scrambles away.

Sir?

Her voice recalls his attention. He looks over to see the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on. She has flawless fair skin, sky blue eyes with long dark lashes, and golden hair which is braided and wrapped around her head. Even dressed in a rough brown peasant dress, she shines in the flickering light. His mouth goes dry and refuses to work.

Have you never seen a fireplace? She is frowning at him.

He swallows, still unable to make his voice work. However, after a moment he manages to shake his head. Her frown deepens as she studies him. Then she shakes her own head.

You've been very ill for days. It will take time for you to regain your strength.

He just nods.

Drink some of this, She picks up a steaming pottery mug from a nearby table, It will do you good.

He accepts the mug and takes a sniff. Frowning, he tries the tiniest of sips. Heat and strong unfamiliar flavours assault his tongue. It's all he can do to hold onto the mug.

It's a healing brew, She frowns sharply, Drink.

He braces himself for a larger sip and all but gags.

She shakes her head, Get some sleep. You still need rest. Getting up, she leaves the room.

He manages to set the mug down before stretching out. However, sleep will not come. Eventually, he eases himself to sitting, his eyes wandering over the plain stone room with its stone fireplace and wooden furniture. Aside from the narrow bed he is seated on, there is the nearby table, a chair, and a tall shelf full of folded cloth and common household items.

After a time, he eases himself to his feet and immediately has to brace himself against the closest wall as his head spins. The sensation takes a long time to pass and even longer before he dares attempt to stand unsupported. He moves the cooling mug to the table before going to the only window in the whole room. As soon as he looks out, he has to brace himself against the window frame, his head spinning again.

He is looking down on the forest. The tallest of the trees don't quite reach the bottom of the window. Straight out, he can see only more trees. There is no sign of the road or anything else even remotely man made.

You'll only make yourself ill again.

He turns to see the young woman in the doorway. Again, his mouth goes dry and speaking becomes impossible.

She shakes her head, Back to bed with you, sir.

He removes one hand from the window frame so he can turn and ends up slumped against the wall beside the window. She is shaking her head as she crosses the room to assist him back to the bed. He drops onto it with a groan.

Her blue eyes study him critically, Who are you?

He swallows hard, attempting several times to make his mouth work before sound actually comes out.

I... I'm Brandon... milady.

She smiles for the first time since he had woken, You can call me Zelle.

You... He slumps back onto the thin pillow, You live alone out here?

Zelle shakes her head, Mother's away on a trip. You'd be wise to be well and gone before her return.

Brandon frowns, She'd be upset?

She's unfond of strangers, Zelle shrugs it off, I just wasn't prepared to leave you to die.

He swallows hard, his eyes studying her, Have you ever been away from here?

I traveled with Mother a time or two when I was younger. I've seen anything I cared to.

His frown deepens, but she doesn't give him a chance to respond.

You need to rest and to drink, Zelle turns stern, You've already a long recovery ahead of you. She picks up the now cold mug and leaves the room.

Brandon stretches out on the bed, doing his best to ignore several twinges in different parts of his body. This time his eyes close quickly.

He wakes to voices coming from another room. The fire in his has burned down to embers. Brandon holds still, straining to hear the words.

...What were you thinking, girl? This harsh voice is vaguely female, but makes him shudder, We'll lose our home for this.

No, we won't, Zelle's voice is calm, I intended, once he's well enough to travel, to blind his senses until he's well away.

You think it so easy to accomplish? Has he told you who he really is?

I haven't pried. He's only been well enough to speak coherently since this afternoon.

You didn't even ask his name? A sceptical note enters the harsh voice.

He gave it as Brandon.

Crown Prince Brandon Joshua Heath Venbien of Jorgain. And he's now been missing long enough to prompt a serious search by land, water, and air. It's only a matter of time before his vehicle... what's left of it... is found, along with a number of bodies and a clear track through the forest to this tower. His highness is obviously no woodsman.

Yet you repaired the damage as you encountered it, Zelle observes calmly, Don't deny it, Mother. They'll find no clear trail to us.

A cackling laugh is followed by the harsh voice again, You know me too well, my girl. Still, his highness cannot remain here much longer.

Only until he is well enough to travel, Zelle agrees, 'Though it would be faster if he would drink.

Did you remember to add honey to the brew?

Zelle groans, I will this time.

The cackle comes again.

Brandon closes his eyes as footsteps can be heard. He does his best to keep his breathing slow and even. Especially as the footsteps get closer. There is a sound of something being set on the table followed by soft movements near the fireplace. Both the warmth and light in the room increase.

How long have you been awake? The voice is Zelle's.

Brandon blinks and attempts to stretch out various sore muscles, I just woke up.

Zelle looks like she doesn't believe it, but doesn't correct him. Instead, she watches him slowly ease himself upright.

The brew should be less bitter, She picks up the mug from the table, You should drink.

He accepts the mug and takes a tiny cautious sip. The liquid is slightly more palatable and he takes several more sips before looking up at her.

Did something happen?

Mother returned early, Zelle sighs, She isn't happy.

You weren't expecting her to be. Brandon takes another sip from the mug.

Zelle shakes her head a little too quickly, Just focus on getting well.

He frowns, but continues sipping the hot liquid as she leaves the room.

Once the mug is empty, he moves to the edge of the bed so he can set it on the table. Then he glances around and his frown returns.

Umm... Zelle? He hopes she will be able to hear him.

She appears in the doorway a moment later, Yes?

He swallows, suddenly embarrassed, Umm... uh... Is there... a... washroom?

She does her best to conceal her amusement at his discomfort, This way. She waits patiently as he slowly gets to his feet, bracing himself against the wall until the dizziness passes. Once he can walk, he follows her out of the room, into another, larger room.

This one is also warmed by a fireplace, but lit by several small lamps. There are several tables, all littered with miscellaneous items. He can't tell whether it's a kitchen or a laboratory of some kind.

Zelle shows him to another door, just over from the bedroom. On the other side, he finds a washroom which is far more modern than he had been expecting, including hot and cold running water. When he is finished in there, he returns to the bedroom to sit on the bed again. A moment later, Zelle enters with a fresh, steaming mug.

How are you feeling? She holds out the mug.

He takes it, Exhausted.

She nods to herself, Drink and then rest some more. You are getting stronger.

Brandon makes a face, but just sips the hot liquid. This batch is a little sweeter than the previous one, which makes it easier to finish. While he drinks, Zelle leaves the room. When he is finished the liquid, he sets the mug on the table and stretches out on the bed.

With the light from the window to mark day and night, Brandon knows another three days pass while he rapidly regains his strength. By the third evening, he is strong enough to join Zelle for supper.

Over those three days, he is encouraged to leave his room and walk around at times when Zelle's mother is absent. During those short walks, he discovers the tower only has two habitable levels, both at the top. He finds it curious how there seems to be no way down from the lower level.

His bedroom is on the lower level, along with the washroom, what Zelle calls a work room, and the kitchen. The upper level contains two more bedrooms, one for Zelle and one for her mother, and a small library.

The supper for which Brandon is finally able to join Zelle is set out in the kitchen and consists of a soup thick with vegetables, slabs of heavy buttered bread, and mugs of herbal tea sweetened with honey.

Do you only live on what you can gather here? Brandon glances around.

Zelle shakes her head, Mother visits the market occasionally. I've gone with her... I just don't care for it.

He frowns, You've lived here your whole life?

Since my childhood.

Where did you live before? His frown deepens.

Zelle shrugs lightly, I'm not sure exactly. Some place busier and noisier. We came here to be away from it.

Brandon sips his tea, You said you've traveled with your mother?

There were things... Zelle hesitates, uncomfortable with something, I wished to see. Mother took me to see them. Those trips only served to make me appreciate my home here all the more.

He nods to himself.

They eat in silence for a time before she speaks again.

It's time you returned to your home.

Brandon slowly nods, My parents are probably frantic by now.

Mother went to check the best route to take, Zelle continues, Not everything in this forest is friendly, as I'm sure you realize.

He nods again, grimacing this time, I'm aware.

"You should be able to be