“I have heard talk about him, but paid little heed to it. it seemed to me that things could not be as bad as 'twas said.”
“It is as bad as that or worse. But the boy has a fine brain, and talks very well for his age; so far he does not realize — he has seen no other children — he does not know.”
“Some day,” said the forester boldly, “he will know, and then he will not thank you for keeping him alive.”
Eric turned on him.
“Who am I to kill my oven son? We all of us have something wrong with us, with our mind or body. The boy is not to blame. Let the future tell the story! The lad has a strong jaw and a fine mind. These must carry him where he will go. It is for us to help him make the most of what he has. Do as I have told you, and remember that you have in your keeping the next Overlord of the land.”
From that time began a new life for Balder, for thus he was named, that naming having been the desire of Breda the Black, while she was carrying him. At times Eric pondered over the mockery of such a name, and thought it should be changed. Balder! Balder the Beautiful, the beloved, perfect God of the Northlands, What a name for what a child.
The boy learned to hold things in his mouth, death-gripped. He learned to ride the pony, guiding him with his teeth. Over and over he would roll on the ground. At seven he could write his name with a pen held in his mouth. Freda cared for him, Russel trained his body and a very wise, old man taught him wisdom. By the time he was twelve he knew ail the old man could teach him, and could gallop on a war horse, Eric knew the time had come to bring him back to the Castle and begin teaching him the duties of Overlord which some day he would have to assume. What body he had grew strong, and he could do what any other fine boy of his age could have done with a similar body — just that much and nothing more. Because he had to largely depend on his mind that part of him showed an unusual growth.
An artificer in leather made harness for him so he could sit in a saddle or be with his father in the banquet hall. There, except that he had to be fed, he seemed to be like any other young Prince, and, as those around him were accustomed to his care and through their great love for him never mentioned the fatal difference between him and other boys, he was mostly happy and gay and appeared to receive much, of the joy of living which is the due of youth. Thus he came to his twenty-first birthday.
“And time for you to wed, my son,” said Eric the Overlord of Cornwall. “The times are troublesome, and more and more it becomes difficult for us to keep the peace and preserve the land in its Golden Age. Marriage with a Princess of a neighboring land, Wales, Scotia or Ireland, would help, and mayhap your son would rule in peace and security. I think that it could be arranged.”
Balder smiled rather sadly as he replied:
“It would be better for you to marry again, Father, and raise a son. No doubt some princess, bookish minded, would care to marry me for what I am above my neck, but what lovely lady would want me for the part below?”
“You have a strong neck, a powerful jaw and a fine mind, my son,” said the Overlord, “and the time may come when such will take a man far in this troubled world. Your Grandfather was not much of a fighter. Just between the two of us I doubt all those legends of his conquering two-headed giants and scurvy dragons; but he had a clever mind. Had he lived he would have gloried in your knowledge of the books in his library. Suppose I look around and see if a suitable marriage cannot be made for you.”
This was easier said than done. In all the lands near Cornwall men were still settling disputes with the poleax and battle sword. All the Kings were kind and sympathetic, and when Eric looked them in the eye made no reference to the peculiar disability of Prince Balder; but for this and that and the other reason found that a marriage between him and one of their daughters could not be arranged for. Then, just when Eric decided that his undertaking was impossible, messengers came from a land far away offering the hand of a Princess in marriage, a beautiful lady who would bring a dower of great wealth. They brought presents and a picture of the waiting lady, and quietly said that she and her Father knew about Prince Balder but that nothing made any difference. Eric sent gifts in return and at the end of a year the Princess came and mid great pageantry she was wedded to Balder, Prince of Cornwall.
That afternoon The Overlord called on his son, saying:
“As I told you these are troubled times. The King of Wales has sent messengers to me. Enemies from the North have come in long ships and are harassing his shore. He asks for help, and that help I must give him at once. Since I must leave Cornwall you must rule in my place against my return, so around your neck I place this cord of twisted silk from which hangs the Golden Key. Guard it well and remember the ancient verse,
‘They who hold this golden key,
Shall ever lords of Cornwall be.’
And, when the enemy is driven back, or better still, destroyed, I shall return; I am ill at ease that I have to leave you at this time when you should have nothing between, you and your bride save thoughts of love-a-daisies.”
“Go without fear, Father, and return when the time comes,” said the son, “while you are gone nothing shall happen to the Key, and my bride Marylyn will help me in all things because she seems to be a most wise and a most beautiful lady.”
Thus Eric rode away followed by his men-at-arms, his archers and his pike-men and the castle drawbridge was raised; but Freda the nurse and Russel the Forester were worried and talked long into the night about their beloved Prince and his sudden advent into manhood and its responsibilities. But Lady Marylyn went to the bedroom of her husband and closed the door and locked it while Balder lay on the bed and wondered at her beauty — but not for long.
“And I am worried that a beautiful lady such as you are would deliberately mate with such a man as I am,” he said sadly.
She laughed at him.
“I married you because I wanted to.”
“But why should you want: to?” he asked.
“Because of that key you wear around your neck. Many years ago a Prince of Darkness, aided by your grand-sire, destroyed the Toad-men who for centuries had ruled Cornwall. Only one escaped and he was my father. Soon after you were born, Cecil, Overlord of the land, killed my father, killed him most terribly and pitilessly. I am the last of my race. Through my legerdemain I arranged the marriage because, though your father can fight, above his neck he is simply a goodnatured fool. The message from Wales was simply a part of my plan, as your father will find out when it is too late. My spirit men surround the castle. Late tonight after I am rested i will place a candle in the window. Then the silken cord will be around my neck and the golden key will lie between my breasts; my men will swarm into the castle killing and over Cornwall destroying and once again we will rule in Cornwall. Too late your Father will learn of it — too late.” She laughed merrily and ended, “And that is why I married you, poor fool!”
Taking him in her lovely arms she raised him from the bridal bed and rolled him over on the floor: then she took, off her bridal dress and her silver shoes and Balder knew that she spake the truth because her toes were long and webbed, like those of a toad. Savagely she tore the silk cord from his neck and placed it around her head, then with a lighted candle on the chest at the foot of the bed, she lay down and rested and soon slept — for she had nothing to fear — nothing to fear from such a bridegroom.