“This is good,” said the schoolmaster. “If we always work as well as we did today, you shall learn even more things than I know myself. Soon I shall give you books too, so you may read on you own.”
They took again the way to the capital. As they walked, they talked of many things.
“Had you passed this way during the days of Prudentius I, it would have seemed to you that the entire land was one great, busy factory,” said the schoolmaster.
“What did everyone do then?” asked the Prince.
“They built ships,” answered the schoolmaster. “And the master builder was my brother. They felled the trees, and carried them down to the river, building there the royal ships, which were then taken to the naval base.”
“And where is your brother now?” asked the Prince fervently.
“He lives in the capitaclass="underline" that is where I am going tonight. But the poor man barely makes ends meet, always living from hand to mouth. If he has one unlucky turn, one day of sickness, he will lose his bread.”
“What is his name?”
“Illstar the master builder, to distinguish him from myself, whom they call Illstar the schoolmaster.”
“I would very much like to meet him,” said the Prince.
“And why not? Instead of going all the way to the School of the State, come tomorrow to his house to have your lesson. If you come early, you will find me there.”
“Very well, then, I will come.”
In front of the door of the master builder’s house, the schoolmaster bid them goodbye, and the Prince went up the mountain slope with Little Irene.
It was late by the time they reached the palace. Everyone was asleep.
Polycarpus alone had anxiously stayed up for them, venturing outside to see if they were approaching, then again going inside, back to the bench where Polydorus lay asleep, to tell him about his worries, which the sleeping man never heard at all.
“I have saved up some food for you, my lady, and also for His Highness, your brother,” he said happily to Little Irene when he saw her. “Go into the dining hall, your young Highness, I have the table all laid out properly.”
Polydorus, however, had been awakened by the voices and was already lighting a torch so they could see their way to the dining hall. He could not light a lantern, for there were no wax tapers or even a tallow candle in the palace any more. So they stuck the torch into a clay pitcher, and by its light brother and sister sat down to eat.
The next day, first thing in the morning, they went once more to the woods, where the Prince killed wildfowl and rabbits, while Little Irene collected eggs from birds’ nests, and picked fruit, and gathered wild greens.
When they returned, still no one was awake. Only Polycarpus was up, getting the back kitchen ready once more for Little Irene.
The Prince took from the pile the schoolmaster’s share, and bid Little Irene farewell.
“I shan’t be long,” he said. “The master builder’s house is very near the foot of the mountain, and I will be back as soon as I have finished my lesson.”
He found the schoolmaster and his brother sitting inside the glassed-in porch of the house, eating bread and olives.
“Welcome, my good lad,” said the schoolmaster, and introduced his brother to the Prince.
The Prince immediately entered into a deep discussion with the master builder, asking him a myriad questions about the way he used to build ships in the past, and the master builder remembered with sadness and with longing the earlier years of his life, relating with tears in his eyes how deeply stirred he had been every time that he would see on the river some new ship, built by his own hands.
“Do you still have the urge to build ships?” asked the Prince. The master builder smiled cynically.
“You must not jest about such things,” he said. “Such pleasantries leave a bitter aftertaste.”
“Yet… and yet, if there might be someone… the King, let us say… and he were to commission new ships, would you build them?”
“The King will not commission them, rest assured,” said the master builder scornfully. “His entire life the King never thought of anything but his own comfort and peace of mind. Now it is too late for him to wake up. Thanks to his High Chancellors, his Supreme Commanders of the Army, his Commanders of the Fleet and their fine company, he does not even have food to eat any more.”
“What did the Supreme Commander of the Army do, exactly, do you know?” asked the Prince.
“You ask about Master Rogue? As though there were a man alive who did not know! He did the same as every other palace courtier. He had absolute control over the army warehouses, and he emptied them all. Once he had sold the armaments, the tents and the uniforms, he had amassed a considerable fortune and he went with it abroad, whilst his royal master never even suspected his absence. Even the stones know what I am telling you. It is a secret well known to everyone in the land! The King is the only one who never seems to hear of any of these things,” added the master builder.
“Is it really fair to put the blame on the King,” said the Prince, turning his face away, pretending to be looking at the street, but in truth trying to conceal the bright scarlet flush on his face. “How could it be the King’s fault, if he has only thieves and scoundrels in his entourage?”
“He ought to have taken care to know the members of his staff before entrusting them with the best interests of the State,” said the master builder, angry and indignant. “And when they turned out to be scoundrels, he ought to have punished them. But when did he ever care about anything? We are always plagued by so-called feelings of good charity! How could you punish a thief, or a traitor, or any other irresponsible and unscrupulous man? ‘The poor wretch,’ they tell you. ‘Why should his life be ruined? Many others do far, far worse!’ And so on and so forth. And it is only the honest men who cannot earn their bread in this land!”
The Prince interrupted him — so as not to hear more against his father.
“Why are there people running in the street?” he asked, pointing to two or three peasants, who were running hurriedly with their wives towards the mountain.
The two Illstars peered out of the window.
“It must be some brawl again,” said the master builder quietly. “We here are used to such goings-on; they no longer make an impression on us.”
“Do you frequently have brawls?” asked the Prince.
“Of course we do; ever since state justice became lax and then was done away with altogether, everyone seeks to defend his right on his own, and seeks to take vengeance on the man who wronged him, or whom he only believes to have wronged him. And so every day there is violent brawling in the capital and in the villages. Quite often there are murders too. Yet the Law will take no notice! There is not a single policeman to be found anywhere any more!”
The Prince listened, and his soul became more and more distraught on account of the miseries plaguing his land. Whatever he might have to say, the conversation always evolved into a long, grievous complaint.
“And the lesson, then?” asked the schoolmaster, interrupting their talk. “What, you bring me such a scrumptious little rabbit, and you would not learn anything further?”
The Prince took his chips of wood out of his pocket and the lesson began.
“If you can learn as fast every day,” the schoolmaster said, pleased, “I shall soon give you the books I promised, for you to read them on your own.”
Without warning, the door was suddenly thrown open, and the equerry Polydorus entered, panting and covered in dust.