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on the very grounds of his forefathers. He had a long beard and, although this was a fact, he had obviously been a young man who knew that long beards were fashionable. Alex went down on his hands and knees. “Who were you? What thoughts and desires were yours for keeps?”
“Alexander” Steven said. “You cannot save the deceased. You can save the living.”
“Mustafus, Steven” he said, holding up the man whose head fell back onto Alexander’s shoulder. “This was once somebody’s son, this was somebody’s father and husband.” He looked at the men and sobbed. “Because of me and my false pride he is dead.”
Steven stepped off his horse and walked up toward his king.
Alex looked up and whispered: “Don’t make another move. Consent me my grief. It is all I own.” He caressed the man. “My kingdom is in shambles.” He stroked the man’s cheek one last time before laying him down gently and standing up. “Mustafus, you once told me to live my own life and not live it through other people. Well, for the past thirty-five years I have done exactly that.” He looked at the gently horse and walked up to it. “This horse is the one I ride most of the time. I think the stable attendants call him Caesar. That is an impersonal name for a horse. I have not had a personal horse since I was a young man. I will rename him.”
He looked up at the two men, one of them was crying.
”I want to name this horse.” He looked back at the horse. “What is your name?” There was a silence filled with bitterness. “Mercutio, you say? The Roman major God of trade, profit and commerce was named Mercury and therefore you are his child.” He patted the horse’s mane and Steven now saw a tear running down his cheek. “You shall be my special horse. I shall always ride on you until the day we have to part.” Alex rested his head against the horse’s throat and it seemed that the stallion was sympathetic to the king’s feelings. “Mercutio Junior.”
Then, as if on a given signal, the king mounted.
“Let’s ride to our stables and sit down in our chairs and forget this war ever occurred” he said. The three men left the battlefield of their lives, leaving nothing but dust and death and snow behind.
In the middle of bleak winter, Adnicul Nocturne had capitulated and withdrawn his troops.

Afternoon – January 1st, 1427 A.D.

Belinda had been watching the road all day. She had refused to eat. Refused to sleep, refused to work, and refused to do anything. There was only one word on her lips. “Steven.” Alfred had been there. She had fed him whilst drinking fresh grape juice all day, made by Geena.
Marie-Louise had done nothing but mourn. Her Robert had died a month ago in the war and she had nothing to look forward to and no one to love.
When the three men came riding down the main path of Iuventus Sacrum that late afternoon just before dusk, she handed Alfred to Marie-Louise and ran to the door with Marie-Louise running after her. She ran to the main stairway and down to the chequered floor across to the main door, opened it and left it open. She leapt into the snow and fell, stood up and ran to Steven, who stepped off his horse and ran to his wife and embraced her.
“I’ve missed you.”
Steven nodded and caressed her hair. She kissed him and stroked his cheek.
“I have been away for too long a time” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”
”Belinda.” Steven sobbed again. “We have won the war, but the army is in shambles.”
Belinda hugged her husband tightly, pressed her cheek against his chest and looked at the snow with wide open eyes.
Alexander stepped off the horse and gave it to Rolf who was coming his way.
Belinda rushed to her father, tears in her eyes, and hugged him.
“I am calling him Mercutio, Lindy …”
She laughed, sadly. “Oh, I see … he is an emissary. What does he have to tell us?”
“That family is the most important thing” her father whispered and held his head against her forehead. He kissed Belinda’s cheek. “I am tired of death. I want life.”
Mustafus had nothing to say. He took his own horse to the stables and watched the family walk in to the palace with their eyes and heads downcast.

Wednesday, February 26th, 1427 A.D.

There were parchment papers all over the marble table and there was no question that most of them were delayed orders. Here was one about the rebuilding of another road that was to lead past Paqutshur. Here was a second about the minimizing of the troops due to deceased militia and promotional reworking of the strategic tribunal. The third was a law that was to be passed concerning the tutorship of herbal medicine to senatorial councilors. The forth was an order that concerned the village clerics: they were to make house calls once every week to chosen believers. The fifth parchment was concerning her own senatorial speeches. They were to be conducted once every two months and not as often as before. The reason was simple: there was nothing to speak about. There was no hope and no future. The senate had lost the willpower to change anything.
She took a swan feather and signed her name next to her father’s signature and her husband’s name and titles on all of the documents.
Accordingly, the documents read:


Alexander W., Rex Prosperianium
Steven, H.R.H. The Prince Regent
Belinda Winsletenna, H.R.H. the Princess Regent Royal

Alex had not been home for three days this time. No one knew where he was. He would never say. Cretan came regularly and anytime Steven would urge Belinda to keep Cretan informed, she would just brush him off and say that she had so much to do that she could barely keep up with Alfie.
“Mommy?”
She looked up from her document, holding her feather pen in her hand.
“Yes?”
His face was all red. Sitting there by the fireplace on the red satin was good for him, but bad for the skin. Steven seemed to enjoy sitting next to him and keeping him occupied. It was wonderful that the war was over, because now they felt like a family again. Trouble was that she was spending all her days in the throne room instead of her father. He rode around all day trying to find peace.
“What you doing?”
”I am signing parchment papers. Documents about … new laws being passed by the senate.”
”Why?”
Steven laughed. She looked at him and smiled. She had not heard him laugh in a long time. That almost made her cry. She remembered how they had been before all of their troubles. Why could they not be like that again?
She dried a tear from her face and shook her head.
“Mommy has to work for Grandfather. He is out riding. The country must be kept in shape.”
Alfie looked down on his stuffed bear. He patted its brown belly and caressed its head.
“What does Bear say?” Belinda asked.
”Bear misses you, too” Alfred cried softly. “Work too much.”
She sighed. “Mommy will come soon.” She looked at Steven. “What are you reading to him?”
”Hansel and Gretel.”
Belinda smiled. “The one you didn’t want me to read?” He nodded.
That was when she noticed how quiet he had become lately. He had not spoken for a while.
She stood up and laid the pen to the side, her gown falling to the floor. She walked away from the table, past the throne and down the steps and sat down on the floor next to Steven, laying her head on his lap. Alfred leaned against his father’s shoulder.
Belinda turned her head toward the window and looked at the trees outside.
The cold, white, intense snow was gone.
Spring was returning to the capital.
”Can we be a family again, Steven?”
Steven looked at Belinda, worried. “We are one, are we not?”
”I am so afraid that we are only men and women on the move …”
She did not finish her sentence.
Steven sighed and looked out, while Alfred was playing with his toys.
Alex wandered in to the throne room.
Belinda looked up and smiled.
“Be greeted, father. Where have you been?”
“I have spent some time in town, discussing matters with the senate. We were so, so late always that I decided to spend the night in a room there. Cretan is boring, but he keeps on talking about himself instead of trying to change things in the country. The senators end up drinking and I end up yelling and the priests end up yawning and …” He looked at the family sitting together on the floor of the throne room. He realized that there were more important matters than ruling a country. There were matters such as the promised dinners of the royal housekeeper. “How was the swan stew? Did Geena manage to get enough rosemary and thymine for the brew?”
“That was the day before yesterday” Belinda answered. “It tasted good.”
He shrugged. “How are you?”
”Spending some time with Alfred and Steven here.”
Alfred looked up at Grandfather.
“Hello, Fah-fah.”
Alex picked him up. “How is our big man?” Alfie nodded and beamed. “Is your mother behaving well?” He laughed. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes” the boy answered.
Grandfather Alex threw him up in the air and cackled.
Alfred shouted and laughed.
Belinda was happy. There was something to laugh about and yet she was sad.
Alexander picked the boy up and took him to another window.
The two cuddled and laughed and eventually Alfred ended up in his grandfather’s lap singing songs and playing games and grandfather telling him funny stories.
“We are a family, Steven” Belinda finally said once husband and wife were alone. “I just mean that I miss the times when things were simpler. Sometimes I feel with the war and its devastation it has savagely killed our peace as well. Not the peace of our country. Our inner peace.”
“We even managed to destroy Fraytollah, Belinda. Yes, the war was horrible, but we took away their power and their glory. We managed to let go of their grip.”
“Steven, I am not speaking of this war” Belinda said, caressing her husband’s face. “I am speaking of our family. This is what I mean. You speak of the war. I speak of that I long to sit with you again and laugh with Alfie and my father. We laugh, we talk, we sing, we eat, we make love. Then there is that shadow in our past. It won’t go away. It is always there.”
”We laugh too little, you say?”
Belinda took one step closer to her husband. “Steven” she said softly. “Remember how suspicious I used to be of your fidelity before our wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Remember how we used to fight?” He nodded. “Well, honey, we cared back then. Now I feel
as if we are just living our life waiting for disaster.”
”What disaster are we waiting for?”
Belinda nodded. “Indeed. What disaster. We don’t even now what is coming next.” She looked up at Steven again. “We have to stop this ball from rolling before it rolls over us.”
“What disaster, Belinda?” Steven said.
Belinda looked down. “Kerberos.”
“What?” Steven said, confused. “Who is that?”
Belinda chuckled, nervously. She looked over toward her father. He was playing with his own grandson and was completely
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