Wisdom's Kiss (27 page)

Breathless as a maiden awaiting her lover did I watch for that black hair to reappear. Never in my life had I witnessed such capability, such physical
acumen
, in an individual so obviously untrained. That a village imp could conduct himself with so much strength and power left me dumbstruck.
Once again, destiny had led me to my
El Dorado
.

***

The boy—christened Tomas Müller, though in this small hamlet known by the curious sobriquet of Tips—had sprung from a family of loutish millers much as a glorious rose might bloom, most remarkably, in a thicket of thorns. Indeed, the contrast between his talents and his two sulking older brothers reminded me so much of myself at that age that I redoubled my commitment to rescue the boy from this dismal hinterland and present him to the world and the acclaim that were so clearly his due.

Unfortunately, the brothers considered Tomas not so much sibling as slave. The eldest son, who had recently inherited the mill, demanded in no uncertain terms that Tomas remain in their service indefinitely. Emulating in every way the ass that was the second brother's prize possession, the two young men stubbornly declared that he could not depart their workplace for even a day.

Yet again, my singular powers of persuasion were put to the test; polishing my silver tongue, and recognizing all too well that descriptions of
glory
would only set their heels more firmly in opposition, I appealed to the young men's patriotism—and to their purses. Would not the career of a ... soldier—guardian of empire, defender of justice, well compensated in victory—serve the family fortunes? Observing the attention paid my talk of
compensation,
I pressed the point by offering remuneration for their brother's labor. Haggling commenced. For a few gold coins it was determined I would take the boy for my apprentice—as I at that point bore no knighthood, he sadly could not serve as page—for a period of eight years. His future beyond that day would lie in his own two hands. Having no regard whatsoever for the boy's talent, the brothers left the table convinced he would then return to their service, a misconception I made no effort to rectify, as it would have only magnified the price of Tomas's indenture.

Our conference concluded, I stepped outside to find the boy awaiting me, his few possessions in a sack that had quite recently held flour.
How he learned of our negotiations I cannot say, as the room was quite preserved from
eavesdroppers
, but learn he plainly had, for he was now outfitted in stout boots and traveling clothes, a worn cap on his damp locks. His companion, her sweet face marked by tears, clutched his hand, and well could I understand her pain: the boy was already as handsome a specimen of humanity as ever I have observed. Attracting benefactresses, I could see, would not be a problem; the challenge would lie in the delicate deflection of female admirers.

Tomas proffered the girl his goodbyes with a maturity and tenderness that moved my heart; with his every gesture I rejoiced further on the brilliance of my acquisition. Verifying that he would be able to correspond regularly with "Trudy"—indeed, demanding my word and handshake on this matter—he gave her a final embrace and set his pace to mine.

"I am ready," he announced with a most charming gravity, "to begin my adventures."

PART I
>

SIX YEARS LATER
>

The Play (As It Were) Commences

A P
LAY IN
T
HREE
A
CTS

PENNED BY ANONYMOUS

Act I, Scene iii. Terrace,
Chateau de Montagne
.

An afternoon fete with musicians.
Enter
Duke Roger of Farina
and
Queen Temperance of Montagne
.

ROGER
: This
terrace
is lovely, is it not? Your Majesty?

TEMPERANCE
: Alas, my poor mother! She adored this terrace. My sister and I would play here and she, laughing, would applaud ... But that was before ... O woe!

ROGER
: Take my handkerchief. Please, consider it a token of my affection...
[Aside]
I also mourn for my brother, but life must move past death.

TEMPERANCE
: Were she alive, I would yet be cultivating herbaceous shrubberies ... Now I am obliged to rule, though the throne holds no magic for me.

ROGER
[aside]:
How can I woo this
Temperance
? "Queen
Melancholia
" is a name more suitable.

TEMPERANCE
: And, they say, I must take a husband.

ROGER
: Surely some man would tolerate—er, desire you. I myself would delight...
[Aside]
No! I cannot speak the words! Rather bachelordom and my mother's wrath than this!

TEMPERANCE
: Behold—a weed amongst the rhododendrons. I must attend to it...

Exit Temperance.

ROGER
: What a miserable female! What a miserable day!

Enter
Princess Wisdom of Montagne
.

WISDOM
: A miserable day indeed. Your Grace, do not look so abashed! I do not envy you the challenge of courting my sister; 'twould foil Cupid himself.

ROGER
: Your High ness. The day grows brighter with your approach, and the very sun slows its descent to linger in your presence...
[Aside]
If Temperance is melancholia, then Wisdom represents happiness supreme.

WISDOM: Your flirtation is more craft than art—though I am flattered nonetheless. In return I shall tender a confidence: I used to dance upon this balustrade when I was young.
>

ROGER
: Step back! You shall fall and perish!

WISDOM
: Your Grace, you are as green as this leaf! I shan't perish: observe how far I lean over...

ROGER
[
aside
]: Such courage! She has pluck enough for two. With her beside me...

WISDOM
: I send this leaf on a great adventure. Fortunate leaf! How I envy you floating away ... O, I yearn to see the world, yet never once have I left Montagne. Is that not piteous?

ROGER
: Piteous indeed, for the world has wonders past counting, and I'd delight in presenting them all to you. But please: I have too little valor. Step away from the precipice or I shall be ill.

WISDOM
[
aside
]: "Too little valor"—this I hear too much! All these suitors full of fear. But this one states it at least. And he has a handsome face...

ROGER
: Your Highness—I am overcome. I fall to one knee to beg your hand in marriage.

WISDOM
: To see the world is the richest of offers! Yet you mock me, Your Grace. It is my older sister you desire, not me. Farina has far too much ambition to wed a princess in lieu of a queen.

ROGER
: 'Tis true my mother sent me to garner a kingdom with my bride. But with brave Wisdom beside me, I know I shall sway her otherwise. My life rests on this moment. Say the word and I shall be the most blissful of men.

WISDOM
: I cannot resist such promise ... Yes, Roger. Yes.
>

The idiotic buffoon!
>

The
second
Montagne daughter! That is the ninny to whom he has promised his heart, and a miserable yellow heart it is—for all the beatings I administered, he remains a coward.

Yet he steadfastly refuses to concede his error—or revoke his proposal!

If only I had another to replace him—would that my firstborn had not perished!—and that the third had never been born, for
he
refuses even to
answer
my letters, no matter how often I demand it.
>

How many times have I explained to Roger (better to have dubbed him
Ignoramus
!) that we have a plan to which we must adhere?