The following stories I wrote in early 1968 when I was just turned sixteen. They are among the stories that were the basis for my 2008 novel, AN INVOLUNTARY KkING: A TALE OF ANGLO SAXON ENGLAND -- see information on the right of this article.It was the first week of November, and fall's slow descent into winter had turned the leaves of the trees to gold, amber and red. A few birds, preparing for their migration southwards, yet lingered in the trees. The air was crisp and chilly. As the young Queen walked down the path she thought of how beautiful the garden was, how wonderful it would be if only Lawrence were there. Nothing seemed real without him…
A noise startled her. She looked around but saw nothing. She took another step and suddenly she saw a familiar figure a little ways ahead of her, sitting on a mound with his face in his hands. It was Rory. He hardly stirred until she had gone up to him and touched him, kneeling.
Rory jumped at the touch and looked frightened. Josephine laughed softly and kissed his forehead lightly.
"Whatever is wrong, Rory? I shan't bite thee! I've not seen thee about the court since thou'st been here. We've missed thee."
"I'm very sorry, " he answered, "But, but…may I speak frankly with ye? Sure, and I'd be most grateful!"
Josephine looked confused. "Why certainly," she said, "Thou'st not ill?"
"Nay, nay! Not physically ill. But there is something very deep in me heart, and I need help."
"Why, Rory dear, of course I'll help you! I'll do anything ye want that is within my power."
"Your Majesty…Jo, may I call you that? Jo, I am in love. So many times I have been infatuated, a girl in every village. But never in love. The lass I love is young, and fair, and good as can hurt me heart so. Also, she…she is married."
"Oh Rory, this is terrible!" The Queen was truly sorry for him. "Who is it? Cans't thou tell me her name, or her husband's?
"Aye, Jo, I can, but ye will not care for him having heard it. Her husband is one of the finest men I have ever known. He is almost as dear to me as Shannon, thou' I've hardly met him. The man is Lawrence."
Rory looked at the Queen wildly and threw himself on the grass sobbing, " It is ye I love, me own fair Jo!"
The Queen turned deathly pale. She stared at Rory in pain. " Oh, Rory, thou knowest I could never love thee!"
He lifted himself from the grass, still sobbing. His blue eyes were flooded with tears that poured down his cheeks. His red hair was tousled. He put his head on her breast, and pleaded, "Never can ye love me, Jo?"
"Nay, Rory. Never as a lover. I can love thee as I love Shannon, and Percy and Erik, but never as I love my lord Lawrence. I shall love him always. There is no man I can love as I do him."
Rory stood. He looked at her quietly and touched her hair. Then he turned and took two or three steps.
"Rory!"
He turned and looked anxiously at the Queen.
"I'm sorry…"
He case his eyes downward. "Nay, do not be. I cannot expect love from one loved by such as he. But…but…
Josephine looked at him tenderly.
"I'll never love anyone but ye, Jo. I'll never kiss a maid unless it be ye." Rory tried to smile and walked to her. He kissed her hand, and turned and left, leaving the Queen in a highly confused state.
"There is really no one of importance here. My friend, the Duke, has gone visit his daughter some distance away. Lady Jocelyn is my dearest companion. She would really be the only one thou wouldst be interested in meeting. After that thou will wish to see Erik and Rory and Shannon, I suppose." The Queen chatted happily to Lawrence as she led the way across the castle.
"Oh, indeed, Rory and Shannon, I must see them before they leave. Thou has gotten along well with them?" he queried.
She did not answer for a moment, then very sadly replied, "Aye, my lord, we have grown very fond of one another."
Luckily, Lawrence misinterpreted her meaning. "There now, don't be sad. They'll not be long in returning, and we'll all have merry times then."
He drew her closer to him an they forgot all else but each other, each thinking that truly they were the most fortunate propel on earth to be so loved.
They had found the Lady Jocelyn and Erik and Shannon but Rory was not seen until dinner.
After all had listened courteously to a ballad on the greatest of King Lawrence, the King set down his cup and held up his hand for silence."
"I was pleased to see my dear friends again that I have not, it seems, met with for a year. But Rory, why met ye not your King?"
"I wager he had business in the village!" jested Shannon, and the hall, catching ribald reference, roared with laughter. Rory's expeditions were well known.
"Ye would put a maiden before your king?" Lawrence said severely, but with a twinkle in his eye.
"I," said Rory and last, raising his eyes from the table to his royal friend and to the Queen who avoided his gaze, "I was not with a maiden this afternoon…" leaning forward, so that only Lawrence and Josephine might hear what he said, "Knowing thee, my liege, I thought that thou should more appreciate that thou were left alone with my wife than had all my friends about thee."
"It is true, very true, " laughed Lawrence. "Thou art indeed a true friend, Rory. Wilt thou sing us a song tonight?" He added, after a moment, while the Queen thought to herself that the real reason Rory had left was that he could not bear to see their reunion.
Ah Rory, what can I do for thee to lessen they pain? What can I give in return for thy devotion.
Despite the fact that Josephine had promised the doctors she would sleep late, she was up at the first rays of dawn.
Lady Bethia came in from the adjoining room. She turned to scold the Queen, but the Queen was so bright and cheerful this morning that Lady Bethia could not keep from smiling to herself.
"Hast thou forgotten your promise, your majesty?" she inquired.
"No," Josephine said, unconcerned. She pranced across the room to the window. She blew a kiss to a gardener, and scandalized poor Lady Bethia.
"But how in heaven's name could I sleep this morning? Do they honestly expect me to stay abed today when Lawrence is coming? Oh, Lady Bethia, I feel like singing and dancing. I simply cannot believe it.. He is gong to be here with me. I think I shall go mad with joy!"
"And drive everyone mad with thee," the old lady muttered.
"But dost thou not think Lawrence will be expecting to see thee, a beautiful, graceful Queen acting in a queenly manner, and not tearing out to see him like a child?"
Josephine considered this for a moment. "Well, I shall try," she said soberly. But it has been so very long and I shall be very glad to see him."
Meanwhile in the forest the king and a few companions were hurrying through the last lap of their journey.
They were a gay party. Not for several yeas had the King been so happy, so dashing, and so gallant. His friends winked at each other and said that just thinking about Queen Josephine was enough to raise any man's spirits and teasing the King, warning him that perhaps for a while, tonight certainly, he would do no sleeping.
But Lawrence was in such a good mood that all the jests simply passed him by.
Josephine had donned her most beautiful gown to meet Lawrence. Her haw was a crown of gold. Never, swore the ladies who attended her, had she seemed more beautiful.
All morning long she had posted herself in a high turret looking out across the meadows.
As Lawrence approached the castle, he urged his horse on faster and faster till they were galloping at a frantic pace. At last before him lay Ratherwood, her towers proud and lofty. Involuntarily, Lawrence looked up and scanned the turrets and saw the object of his affection, a cloud of golden hair blowing about her face whilst she waved frantically.
As he stared for the castle she immediately disappeared from the turret and by the time he had reached it, she was waiting with whole household.
Within 15 feet of her he stopped and dismounted without taking his yes off of her and stood gazing at her as if in a trance. Even in his dreams she had not been so fair, her golden hair hung down to her tiny waist her bosom was heaving with emotion, her eyes brimming with tears. She was shining with love and longing for him.
She not be able to move, was staring at him. All her pent up love and longing swelled to her throat and she could not speak. How handsome he was, she thought, how lucky I am and oh how much I love him.
At long last (or so it seemed; in fact it was not longer than 10 seconds) he called "Josephine" so softly that none heard him but she. She fairly flew across the space to him and he gathered her in his arms. He kissed her long and hard and then swung her about the waist and kissed her again. Paying no attention to the people gathered about, he picked her up and carried her though the hall and into a room, slamming the door. He put her down. He said, "Thou art crying!"
She smile through her tears. "I know, I can't help it. Is it really thee? Is this just a dream?" For answer her kissed again asked her, "Can a dream do that?"
She laughed up at him and said she might be convinced if he kissed her again. So he kissed her again with such passion that her body throbbed with need for him that she was completely and totally his as she had never been before. He kissed her until she hurt with need for him and every fiber of her being cried out with agony and still he kissed her.
When he let her go, she was so weak he had to hold her up. After a moment she admitted breathlessly that he was indeed not a dream. A moment later she inquired wither he would like to see his children, his heir and his daughter.
"Yes, but of course," he said eagerly. "Prince Peter of Christenlande" he said with pride. "And Princesses Elaine and Caithness." A cloud came across his face. "Has thou figured out which is thine?"
She shook her head sadly. Her lips quivered. What a terrible thing to happen to a woman, he thought. He wrapped his arms around her and she put her face against his chest and sobbed.
When she had finally spent herself out she looked up at him and smiled bravely. "Well, at least come see them. They're both adorable and both worthy to be the daughters of the greatest king on earth."
The nursery of the royal children was quieter than usual. The young Prince sat with his toy knights and thought as deeply as his infant mind would allow. His tow sisters each lay in their cribs, playing clumsily with bells suspended just within their reaches. Peter looked up and giggled at little at them.
The door opened and their parents entered. Josephine was proud to show Lawrence how fair and bright their children were. The King was eager to see his son, seventeen months older now that when he first saw him, and to see the Princess for the first time. His eyes were wide with anticipation as he entered the nursery, smiling broadly.
Lawrence put one arm around his wife's waist and put his lips gently on her sweet billows of fragrant, golden hair. In the few moments he had been reunited with her, he had realized that he loved her more now than eve before, and that he would keep loving her more and more, with no ultimate.
Peter looked up and smiled. "Mama!" he cooed. Lawrence could but stand and look at his children.
The Queen looked up and smiled. She knew that look wee, the "the wonder at the miracle he saw before him. Lawrence kissed her and murmured softly, "Thank you!"
Josephine stooped and lifted Peter. Proudly she presented the child to his father. Peters eyes went immediately to the King's beard. His attempts to pull it off were futile, so he gave up and looked at his mother. "Where Ah-Reek?"
The Queen laughed. "Erik's sleeping, little man. Look, here is Peter's daddy! Daddy! See?" The King laughed, too. After a moment, Peter decided his wooded knights had waited too long, so his mother set him down to play.
The King looked over at the girls. "Which is Caithness, and which is Elaine? Oh, how sweet they both look!"
Josephine nodded. "Aye. And I see thou canst not see the difference, either! Here, let me hold Caitie, see? She has curlier hair. Thou shalt hold Elaine, if ye wish."
"No, let me hold them both. I'm quite strong enough, " Lawrence insisted.
Josephine laughed. "I know," she said dreamily.
The King took both babies in his arms. "They are so perfect! I cannot ever thank thee enough! Thu has borne for me alone these fine children! I could not be more grateful!"
The Queen hand gone to the other side of the cribs. She smiled emotionally and said, "I am so perfectly happy, so, proud 'tis thee that fathered t hem. I would have no one else to do that. My children have the greatest man alive for a father. An 'tis to my eternal joy that they do."
"I love thee!" the King said abruptly. " I love thee more than my lips can tell, nor my hear! Oh, Josephine!" His voice failed a moment. He looked at Josephine. Her face was flushed, her bosom with heaving with love and desire.
Lawrence put the princesses down gently in their cribs, looked again at Josephine, his eyes wild, and gasped. "I want thee so!"
She went to his arms and held tight to him. She could barely breathe, her passion was so great. His eyes were shut, his head inclined towards the floor, his cheek pressed against hers. Lawrence's passion was so great that he was sweating, and had to take breaths in gulps. He buried his face in her neck let the hunger for her subside a little.
Lawrence lifted his head and smiled into her eyes. He kissed her. Then he smiled again into her eyes. He lifted her and swung her about, laughing. "This time I shall stay as long as is in my power! It will take much to steal me from thee again!" He wiped away a tear of joy from her cheek. "Come, let's go and meet thy friends!"
Lawrence and Shannon had been gone to the seaport all day and one night. In the morning they were sighted, tho', their packhorses laden with gifts.
A merchant ship had sailed in, overflowing with glorious wares, gotten from as far off as Persia, Africa, and Poland. The King and his friend had been curious, and had ridden off to see. As the two brought the curios in, aided by servants, their eyes twinkled. Shannon proudly presented Virginie with an amber arm band, Sean with a beautiful flute from Arabia, and Queen with a fabulous mirror, for which he traded his treasured harp. "I've still me lute," he said when she protested.
Lawrence passed out various gifts, but when he got to his wife, he smiled slyly. "And now, I present the finest of all!" He opened a box, reached in, and brought out a cat. Jo's eyes lit up in excitement. "All the way from Siam. That, my love, is almost at the edge of the Earth!"
The dainty face was chocolate brown, as were its feet, and tail. The rest was a warm cream color. Lawrence exclaimed it was a female.
Jocelyn was so amazed that she was able to leave the blue brocade cloth the king had given her, and jumped excitedly around the Queen. "Oh, what will thou name her?" Jo decided to delay the christening. She kissed her husband and took the young cat to her chair and sat with it, ecstatic.
A while later the excitement died down. As to names, Lawrence had suggested Phaedra, Shannon had suggested Tabitha, and others had mentioned Milady, Belinda and Samara.
That night, Lawrence carried the Queen to their room. Later, as he lay beside her, he kissed her and began to caress her, as he did every night he was there. Just as he was about to kiss her again, the little Siamese jumped between them. The couple laughed and Lawrence tossed the kitten off the bed gently.
All went very well for a while, but the next time he cat chose a bad time to interfere. The King and Queen were in the very midst of their amour. The Siamese jumped between them and upset everything. The King moaned and sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. The Queen could not help but laugh, not at the cat's interference, but at Lawrence, because he sat with his face in his hands, growling! Her laugher was contagious; he began to laugh also, and soon both of them were laughing hysterically.
When they had sobered a little, the King snatched the poor, well-meaning cat up and gave it to Clancy to keep for the night, and believe it or not, he and the Queen actually did live through the night!
You can find more of these old stories at An Involuntary King: Welcome to Críslicland. The drawing above is from roughly the same period.
