CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

THE GREAT RAMDA II

The news of the beloved queen’s passing quickly spread throughout the land, and a great sense of sadness and loss settled over the kingdom like a dense fog. The people knew death was a natural transition into the next realm of experience, but Alena had been a shining example of purity and light, and they knew there would never be another quite like her.

As the ladies of the castle sat in the garden, or the servants gathered in the halls and the kitchen, they spoke quietly of Alena's kindness. Each of them had a tale to relate of her loving, caring nature. Not one negative thought or deed came to mind when the people remembered her.

"She was like a mother to us all," said one young woman, barely out of her teens. "My mother is a priestess, in the Orange Valley near the great plains. When I felt I could not live up to my calling as a novice priestess and felt lonely for my home, Alena came to the temple and asked them if they would allow me to attend her for a short time. Of course, they could not refuse the queen, so I was released from my duties, temporarily. She patiently counseled me until I understood that I was worthy of love and acceptance, no matter where I was, or what I chose to do. And she advised that even though the regimen at the temple school was strict and seemed difficult, I was to consider myself privileged to be allowed to serve as a priestess. She helped me remember that I was offered this mission and destiny by my Guardian while I was in the higher realms and that I had agreed, so I must honor that agreement. The queen told me that whenever I felt lonely, I could visit her. After that, I began to see that my teachers were not so different from my family; they were strict, but kind, and only wanted to help me be the best priestess possible.”

"I know," said another. "Many times, when Alena heard that a child in the castle compound was feeling ill or had been hurt, she would be there, no matter the time of day or night. She would sit by the child’s bedside, singing softly to it as she caressed the little one’s brow. No matter how difficult it had been for others to get the little one to sleep, she could always lull it to dreams in a few minutes."

"And she was so generous," exclaimed another. “When one of the young girls from another valley was serving her year in the castle and planned to be mated to one of the scribes, Alena learned that the girl had no gown and only a few simple garments. The queen saw that the bride had a lovely gown for the ceremony, plus a wardrobe that any girl would be proud to wear. She also gave the couple a celebration feast in one of the small banquet rooms, and even put in an appearance for a short time. The girl was overwhelmed, and I should know because she is my cousin."

It was the same with the men of the valley, who all had a tale or an incident to relate of Alena's kindness, her beauty and her courage. They all agreed that there would never be another like their beloved Queen Alena, and their lives were greatly saddened by her death.

The joy of the birth of a prince in the kingdom was also diminished by the loss of their dear queen. King Ramda went into shock and deep mourning, seeming to age overnight. His mind was in turmoil; he could not sleep. Servants brought trays of food that were left untouched. He would not leave his suite of rooms and sat for hours on the private balcony where he and Alena had spent many happy hours together, talking, eating or sipping cool drinks and discussing the events of the day or matters that needed to be resolved.

How can I go on without her? Why could I not see that I had everything I needed for happiness? How many hours I wasted thinking about how much I wanted a son. Now that I have one, I cannot bear to look at him, it is too painful. All I can think is that the price of his birth was Alena’s death. The tormented thoughts played over and over in his mind.

The king’s chancellor, Tyran, assumed many of the daily duties of running the castle and the kingdom and made most of the minor decisions. At first he went to speak with Ramda to discuss with him important matters that needed immediate action. But when he saw that the king took no interest and did not seem to care what decisions he made, he began to assume even more of the responsibilities that had always been handled by Ramda, and Ramda’s father before him.

Tyran was a scholar from the Green Valley. He came to the castle for training when he was in his teens. When the young king saw what a brilliant mind he had, and how quickly he grasped a situation, he conferred with the elders, and Tyran was given a position in the castle as a junior elder. He was eager and ambitious and quickly made himself indispensable, always close at hand, ready to assume any task, no matter how trivial. He worked from dawn to dusk, never seeming to tire or lose his enthusiasm. Ramda took notice, and before long, he not only sought Tyran’s advice, but they became close friends, as well.

When the old chancellor died, Ramda named Tyran as his replacement. Over the years, Ramda noticed that at times Tyran was a little harsh in his judgement and not as compassionate as he would have liked in some of his suggestions or decisions. But Ramda overlooked this because of his love for his friend and quietly overruled or circumvented any issue that was not to his liking. So now, with the despondent king not caring what went on beyond his prison of pain and grief, it was natural for the chancellor to assume the position of major authority, temporarily. It seemed to work well and life went on as usual, but before long, an insidious, irrevocable change began to be felt in the castle.

Ramda’s eldest daughter had married and moved away to a neighboring kingdom, while his other two daughters were novice priestesses studying in an outlying valley. After a short visit, they reluctantly returned to their homes, leaving the king to grieve alone. While he was not conscious of the welfare of his tiny son, it was an immediate concern of servants in the nursery. They knew a decision must be made as to what was best for the little prince.

"A wet nurse must be found for the babe or he will not live,” said one of the midwives as she held the tiny infant in her arms. His face was red and he was screaming as his little arms and legs flayed about. They fed him by dipping a soft cloth in sweetened milk and allowed him to suckle, but they knew that he must have better nourishment than they could give him.

"I know of one," said one of the other midwives. "Do you remember Leisa who used to work in the pantry and serve in the dining hall? She is a good-natured girl and her husband was recently drowned. Only a few days ago, I helped her deliver a fine, strong boy. I am sure she would be glad to return to the castle. She has no one to care for her and her child now that her husband is gone."

Before his death, Leisa and her husband had lived happily together in a small cottage at the edge of the village. She had loved working in the castle before she gave birth to her son and made many friends among the staff. Leisa was known for her sunny disposition and her willingness to please.

Her husband had recently been lost at sea. He was a fisherman by trade, and along with a group of other young men, supplied the castle and surrounding village with fresh fish. The sea was less than a day's journey to the south, and he and his friends made regular trips, staying several days at a time until they caught all the fish they could handle before returning to the village.

Just a few weeks before she delivered her son, one of the men came to her with the sad news. "I am so sorry, Leisa. Brodey got tangled in the ropes and fell overboard. We tried to find him, but the waves were too high and we never saw him again. We looked for a long time trying to spot his body, but it never surfaced. The storm grew worse and it was difficult to keep the boat aright, and the only way to save our own lives was to return to shore.”

When the messenger came to Leisa from the castle with an offer to come live there with her son, and be the nurse and caretaker for the newborn prince, she felt a prayer had been answered. She gathered their few belongings, and as she looked back at the lonely little cottage for the last time, she whispered, "I will never forget you, Brodey, and I will remember you every time I look at our son."

Leisa lavished all her love and devotion on the two tiny boys. From the first moment she laid eyes on the tiny prince and took him to her breast, she loved him as much as she loved her own son, Colten.

"I will love you and care for you, sweet little prince. You will never be lonely or feel the loss of your mother. My son will be your friend and I will watch over you, always.” The little prince was named Ramda II, but she affectionately called him Ramey. The boys were opposites in every way. Ramey had golden, curly hair and crystal-blue eyes; he was slim of build, almost delicate. Colten's skin was the shade of summer honey; his hair was dark, thick and straight. His eyes were deep brown with flecks of gold and he was sturdily built. Even when very young, he was strong and agile. He crawled and walked long before Ramey and from the beginning, seemed to be ever at his side, supporting and helping his prince.

In her desire to serve the young prince, and out of her love for the dead queen and a misguided sense of duty, Leisa made sure that her son relinquished to Ramey everything and anything he wanted. She counseled Colten, "You must always let Ramey win, and you must serve him in all things. You must never forget that he is the prince, and it is your duty to protect and defer to him."

Therefore, from a very young age, the tiny prince was given his every desire, and made to feel that all those around him were there only to serve and entertain him. Whatever Colten had, it seemed that was what Ramey wanted. One day, as they sat playing beside a small pond in the courtyard, with ever watchful Leisa sitting close by, Ramey was sailing two little boats at the water's edge, and Colten had one. Colten's boat seemed to stand more upright and sail across the water faster, and after watching for a few minutes, Ramey demanded, "I want that boat, it sails better than mine."

"But you already have two, Ramey," protested Colten.

"I don't care, I want that one, too."

Reluctantly, Colten gave up his boat, saying, "That's all right, I was tired of sailing anyway," as he got up and went over to a low tree and climbed up onto a sturdy branch. He sat there, swinging his legs, looking down at Ramey with a puzzled look on his face.

Ramey sailed Colten’s boat back and forth several times and then threw them all aside, and came to sit on the branch beside Colten. He did not say anything for quite awhile, but glanced over at Colten out of the corner of his eye every now and then. Finally, he turned to Colten and put his arm around his shoulder, saying, "You are my best friend, Colten. You will always be with me, won't you?"

Colten knew Ramey's mother had died when he was born and that the king hardly paid any attention to him. His mother had told him this over and over, from as far back as he could remember, "We must be his family, Colten; we must make up for his great loss and sadness. You have a mother; he does not. It is our responsibility to make him feel loved and happy."

And so, Colten, out of the sense of duty his mother instilled in him and his love for Ramey, turned and smiled sweetly at his friend, saying, "You will always be my friend, Ramey, and no matter what, I will always stay near you, I promise."

That incident set the tone for their relationship throughout their youth and early manhood. Ramey would make demands, and Colten would make concessions or give in. When Ramey knew he had pushed Colten to his limit, he would become charming and contrite, until the next time.

Gradually, as time passed, and as he slowly came out of his shell, the king started to take more notice of the little prince. But never again was he the strong, zestful ruler he had been when Alena was alive.

"Look at him," he said to Leisa, as he watched the two little boys at play. "My son is so slim and fair, and his eyes are the same color as my Alena’s."

In fact, Ramey's features so nearly resembled the queen’s that it made Ramda's heart ache with longing. But as he watched Ramey at play with Colten throughout the weeks and months, his heart began to heal. After a while there was only a small, tender memory of his sweet Alena locked away deep inside.

The king's love for the little boy grew daily and he could refuse him nothing. Whatever Ramey wanted, someone was there to see he quickly got it. The people of the kingdom were loving, but they generally used firm discipline in handling their children. This, however, was forgotten in caring for the little prince.

Tyran, the chancellor came to Leisa one day, saying, "You must confer only with me regarding day-to-day matters and decisions concerning the prince. You are not to bother the king."

However, when she came to Tyran with a plea for help, out of concern for Ramey's selfish actions, he rebuffed her, saying, "Just do your duty, and care for the boy. See that he has everything he desires, he is the prince and will be king one day. You are not to judge him. In a year or two, when he is old enough, I will personally assume the duty of training him for his role as monarch."

As a result, day by day, Ramey's demands for attention were growing more and more irksome. Tyran saw to it that the boy's meals were elaborate, with several meats in rich sauces, a great variety of desserts and bread. At times Ramey would take only a few bites and then demand that it all be taken away and something different prepared.

Ramey was entertained, pampered and constantly praised for his smallest accomplishments. The chancellor ordered rich garments and jewels for the little prince. Lovely works of art and lavish furniture filled his apartments. But he had little appreciation or regard for his own possessions, or for those of others. When he would not do as he was asked, or when he did not get his way, it was easier to give in to his whims than to suffer through his terrible temper tantrums.

One day, on an infrequent visit to his son's apartments, the king commented to Leisa, "When were all these rich furnishings placed here? I did not order them."

Not looking in his eyes, Leisa replied, "The chancellor ordered them brought here, your Majesty." Shaking his head, he turned and left the apartment, somewhat disturbed, but he never mentioned it to Tyran.

In spite of being indulged, Ramey was basically a loving, sweet-natured child. If he chose, he could melt the hearts of all around him. He quickly found the way to get what he wanted from his father was to be sweet-tempered and soft-spoken, so the king rarely saw the dark side of Ramey's nature, which was getting increasingly out of hand. The times the little prince spent with his father were the happiest and most satisfying of all. He was too young to realize it was because when he was with his father, he was considerate and kind, and kept his temper in check.

“If only you could have known your mother, Ramey. She was such a beautiful wise woman and loved by all in the kingdom. How different things would be if she had lived. I know I neglected you when you were very young, but you reminded me so much of her, it was just too painful for me. I want you to know it was not because I do not love you. You are the son for whom I yearned for many years, and I am very proud of you. You will be king one day, and you must take your studies and responsibilities seriously.”

Ramey listened rapturously to his father’s tales, but their time together always seemed too short. He began to feel that his father never truly saw him as a person, but only as an extension of Alena. And deep within, he felt guilty, as if his father blamed him for the death of his beloved queen.

During those early years, Ramey and Colten spent almost all their time together. Only when Ramey was with his father was Colten excluded. Their studies required several hours in the morning and were held in Ramey’s suite of rooms where an elaborate classroom had been set up. They had several different tutors who often spoke among themselves about the young prince and his companion.

“It is too bad that Ramey does not pay as much attention to his studies as Colten does,” said one.

“Indeed,” said Marven, who taught them history and geography, “I am sorry to say, but Colten has the sharper mind, by far, and he is curious and eager to learn. But, of course, that must never be known or stated outside this room.”

“I fear Ramey is being overindulged. It is not normal for a child to have his every desire met, and he is not being taught his responsibilities to the people. Tyran seems to be more in control of the prince’s upbringing than the King.”

“I know,” said Karth, the instructor of math and science, “but what can we do? It is difficult enough to hold Ramey’s interest, and as I’m sure you are aware, we will be blamed if he does not learn what he should.”

After their studies, the boys were free to play in the gardens and shallow pools in the courtyard, with the ever-vigilant Leisa close at hand. She sat quietly on a bench beneath one of the graceful old shade trees with her sewing or handiwork, occasionally nodding off in the warm, balmy afternoon sun.

Ramey and Colten were nine years old when Tyran announced one day, “It is time for me to take over the training of the prince and prepare him for his duties as king.” After that, Ramey began to spend at least two hours every afternoon in the chancellor's private study.

Colten continued his studies with their regular tutors in the morning, which left him with several hours of freedom in the afternoon. He was not used to being apart from Ramey and was rather lonely at first, but he soon found company in the stables. The stable hands quickly became fond of the little boy, and Colten was eager to know all about the animals and their care. He asked hundreds of questions, and everyone answered him kindly and patiently. He became braver as time went on and was soon helping with the daily chores, feeding, grooming, exercising the horses, even sitting in a stall with a sick mare of which he was especially fond.

The men observed and began to comment, "That boy does have a way with the animals, doesn't he? He has no fear, no matter how big or bold or untamed they are, and seems to have the gift of understanding them. It is almost amazing how they all come to him and eat out of his hand, even those who are skittish or nervous around humans.”

Colten truly loved the animals and found he had an ability to communicate with them in an uncanny way. He seemed to know what they were thinking, and they seemed to understand him in return and were eager to please. His happiest hours were spent in the stables or in the pastures and pens.

One of the grooms taught him how to ride, and soon he was sailing around the enclosed pasture. Eventually he ventured out into the woods, racing down the narrow trails and across the fields, free as the wind, exploring and roaming to his heart's content. He had never felt such joy and exhilaration, such freedom and a sense of oneness with the beautiful steed on which he rode. The warriors often came to the stable to care for their animals, and soon Colten was a favorite with them, too.

“Come join us on the practice field when you are a little older, Colten; you will make a fine warrior.”

One day when Colten was playing in one of the big barns that were stacked full of hay, he found a litter of kittens that were only a few weeks old. He began to spend much of his free time in the barn with them, bringing them warm milk and scraps of food from his lunch. He held out his hand to the mother cat, trying to entice her, "Here, pretty kitty, I won't hurt you. Don't you want this tasty morsel?"

She was wary of him at first and moved the kittens several times, but the smell of food was finally too much for her. She approached him slowly, then sat at his feet contentedly munching on his offering. After that, she came to him willingly and climbed on his lap waiting for her treat, and then lay close by, peacefully watching Colten play with the frolicking kittens. She even seemed relieved to have someone else watch over them and be the object of their tumbling, busy antics.

One day, as Colten was leaving the garden to go to the stable with some bits of food for his furry friends, Ramey came up the path after being dismissed early from his studies with Tyran. He asked, "Where are you going, Colten?"

"I thought you were still with the Chancellor, Ramey, so I was going to the barn to take the kittens some of my lunch scraps."

Ramey said, "I want to go with you. I want to see these animals you spend so much time with."

For some inner reason he did not understand, Colten was reluctant to take Ramey with him, but he could not say no to his prince. So they walked across the courtyard and down to the stables together.

Ramey was not comfortable around animals. Once, when he was quite small, a troupe of jugglers and acrobats with performing animals entertained after a noon banquet. The king, thinking his son would enjoy the spectacle, had Ramey brought to the hall. The musicians began to play a fast, rowdy tune, and the trainers raced around the room making the animals do all sorts of tricks, their shouts and commands ringing throughout the hall. The people laughed and cheered, but Ramey cringed at his father's side and began to cry, "I don't like them, I am afraid." He clung to his father sobbing, until the king ordered him taken to his quarters. Ramey would not go near the stables or pens; and when the king instructed the stable master to teach him to ride, he put up such a fuss he was not required to learn. The king was surprised and somewhat embarrassed by this, but he said nothing and no one ever mentioned it again.

Once, the king tried to give him a small exotic animal as a pet. "Look what I have brought you, Ramey; isn't it a cute, furry creature? It comes from a far off land and is very rare. The ladies all cherish these animals as pets, for they are very loving and loyal."

But Ramey backed away, with fear in his eyes, crying, "No, I don't like it, it scares me." His father pleaded with him, "Just touch it, Ramey, and see how soft it is," but to no avail. He finally sighed and turned to one of the servants, "Here, take it away and give it to one of the other children."

Colten stood nearby, yearning to touch and possess the tiny creature, but he knew better than to ask.

The king left, shaking his head, "I wonder what could have made him so fearful? I must talk to Leisa." But it was never mentioned again.

Colten had been present at each of these events and knew about Ramey's fear of animals, so he was somewhat puzzled by the prince’s request to see the kittens. He did not realize that even though Ramey did not care for the kittens, he could not stand to have Colten spend time with or care for anyone or anything but himself.

As they entered the dim, cool barn and sat down on some bales of hay, the kittens came romping out of their hiding place and scampered over Colten, onto his lap and up in his arms. Ramey sat quietly looking on, a sullen, pensive look on his face. After a few minutes, Colten asked, "Would you like to hold one, Ramey? They are warm and furry and pleasing to the touch."

"No," replied Ramey, "I would rather just watch." Shortly, he rose and said, "I wish to go now, I have seen enough." Colten put the kittens down gently, stroked the mother cat and whispered, “I’ll come back later,” then turned and followed the prince back to the castle.

Several days passed and the kittens were not mentioned. Ramey was busy with his studies, and there was a small festival to be held at the castle, with many guests. Colten was given numerous duties by his mother, in addition to attending the prince.

One early afternoon a few days later, while there were no pressing chores for him and Ramey was still with Tyran, Colten took the opportunity to slip quietly to the barn with a small basket of goodies for his little friends. When he arrived, he was puzzled that they did not scamper out to greet him. The mother cat was nowhere around, so he walked throughout the barn calling to them, to no avail.

He walked out toward the pens in the back and, as he passed a small water trough, he glanced in. There, floating in the water, were all the kittens and the mother cat, as well. Colten gasped and fell to the ground, sobbing and trembling. After awhile, he slowly stood and went into the barn. Climbing up on a bale of hay, he took one of the feed sacks from the wall, and tenderly lifted each lifeless little body from the water and placed it in the bag. He left the castle grounds and walked into the forest to a quiet glade where the sun filtered through the trees, and where the ground, covered with moss, was soft and warm. He dug a small hole and gently laid the bag in it and covered it with dirt. With shaking hands, the boy placed a large rose-colored rock on top of the little mound and sat sadly looking at it for a long time.

Colten knew. Deep within, he knew who had killed the kittens and mother cat. The people of the valley did not kill aimlessly or without provocation. All life was precious and sacred. Animals were sacrificed only for food and then in moderation, and a blessing was always given to help speed their spirit back to its source.

He had long been troubled by some of Ramey's cruel actions. Time after time, he had seen Ramey return kindness with rebuke or disdain. Most of the other children stayed out of his way and no longer came to play in the courtyard with them, for they feared the prince’s wrath. "I don't care," announced Ramey, "they are stupid and boring anyway."

More often than not, he treated the servants with impatience and disregard for their feelings. Once, Colten dared to challenge him after he had cruelly berated a young servant for spilling some food on his tunic, "Ramey, it was not his fault; you moved your hand just as he set the plate down."

"I don't care," he replied haughtily, "he should be more careful. Besides, he is only a servant. Why should I care how he feels."

Colten, the one who spent the most time with the prince, received the brunt of his cruel jokes and caustic remarks. Many times he went to his mother in tears, "Why must he be so cruel, Mother? He has everything he could want, and everyone runs to fulfill his every wish."

"Maybe that was our mistake, my son, giving him everything he could desire and expecting nothing in return. I fear the harm is done and now it is too late to change him. My heart is heavy, for I feel much of the responsibility is mine."

"No, Mother, you only wanted him to feel loved and safe. It is not your fault if he cannot see that everyone cares for him and only wants his happiness. He can be kind and loving at times, but he changes so quickly. We never know what to expect from him, or what causes him to be so cruel for no reason."

Over the years, although Colten remained fiercely loyal, as he was taught, his love slowly began to diminish as he saw Ramey become more abusive and cruel.

That evening as the sun set and dusk began to fall, Colten sat with his head bowed on his knees, his back resting against a great, knurled tree. There was a chill in the air and in his heart. There were no more tears, but there was a myriad of feelings in his heart and mind: sadness for the lost lives of the sweet animals, anger at the cruel deed, and confusion as to why his friend would do such a thing.

As it grew late and he sat gazing at the growing shadows, an awareness came to him. I have been blind; it is not right that he treats people this way just because his mother died and he is prince. He is not worthy of the love and devotion everyone has showered on him. As the last glimmer of love for his lifelong companion died, Colten knew it would never be the same. He would serve his prince and be ever loyal, but in his heart, Colten would know only sadness and a great sense of loss for his childhood friend.

Nothing was ever said about the incident, but Ramey knew Colten was aware of who had drowned the family of cats. Often when they were together, he would turn and Colten would be watching him with a sad and quizzical stare. Ramey did not feel remorse, for he was not capable of regret or guilt, and he came to resent Colten even more. He watched as Colten laughed and joked with those who maintained and served the castle, and seethed when many of them came to Colten for help or counsel. In contrast, because of his temperament, everyone had learned to stay away from Ramey unless absolutely necessary. When he heard Colten laughing and jesting with the other young people of the castle, a bitterness grew within.