Then did the rains begin. The cave grew dark, and without the thunder cracked; and Gorbonian saw that all was as in the days of Noah, and, pressing back into the cave, said,—I shall wait until the rain has passed, and then return home. And so did he continue inward, the better to keep dry, should the storm increase.
And at the cave-end, behold, a free-standing stone, howso conveyed therein, none can say; but there it stands, its smooth surface, notches scored into its sides. And he nears to find what might these markings mean; and some are in the shapes of men, and others like giants. And, atop the stone, a tool, sharp-edged and shining.
To the Prince it seemed his dreams had crossed the breach; wherefore he brushes the dust away from the stone with his hand, to lay his body flush atop it, pressing his ear against this level rock, to test if it might sing with the voice of the fields, or echoes of the sea.
And there he lay, awaiting. And when he awoke, the rains had passed, and the light of the morning was upon the cave. And it seemed to him that he woke as from the slumber of ages: Recalled he now names from his nursery, heroes of old; and within him some spirit sounding music, its melodies strange but not newe fangled. And attending to this song within, his eyes filled with tears, a mist of memory; but then did he dry these tears with his sleeve, saying aloud, that the shades might hear,—When that I arrive to the shelter of my rightful chamber, be it ever so many years hence, then shall I make known these things kept hidden.
3.
When that Gorbonian came in view of the castle, he saw that the rains of the night had been hard on the land. For the sea lay upland, and the village in a dale; the flood had run straight through til morning. Now men and women of the town stood in the road, hanging their clothing in the branches of the trees to dry; for the flood had unhoused them quite. But good Queen Argoel did espy him from her high window, which looked out upon the town; and cried out,—My son is returned; and fell faint then, and must needs be revived. Whereupon, finding young Gorbonian in the entry-hall, she did lay hold of both his ears, and grip them full sore, saying,—Where hast thou been, what hast thou done.
To this Gorbonian, head hung, replied,—To the sea went I; and there fell into a deep sleep, to be visited by dreams; and I repent of your worry, and would beg of you your pardon.
Now it is said everywhere, that boys do love their mothers yet fear their fathers; wherefore Gorbonian did ask,—Is also my Father full wroth?—As to this, the Queen replied,—If he but knew, your fate were sealed, but alas; and began she then to wail, saying,—I have seen him not, nor since he hied him to the stable, to save his horses from the storm.
For the King’s horses were his delight; and, when the storm brake, some did bolt, and were drowned; and to the stable ran King Morvidus then, making great dole the while. For but that his servants had raised the goods in the counting-house above the flood-line, and all in the castle were safe, yet for his stables there seemed no remedy. So sent he word to his Queen, not to expect him until the rain was passed; for he would remain with his steeds til they were safe; stood now Gorbonian before his mother, and said,—I will hasten to him now, to see how I might help.
But when, at the muddy stable-door, he called a-loud,—Father, it is I, no reply did issue. Within that place a ghastly peace now reigned; no horse remained, nor stable-hand; and the Prince did hie from stall to stall, to find his father. Yet the search is short: for long had the King favored a bay horse called the Woodsman, the terror of the tournament. And to him had he run.
Now some tell how Morvidus met his end in battle, to die in glory, as befits a king; while some speak of a great beast that made menace upon the people, feasting on sea-faring folk in the Irish sea, and say Morvidus did raise arms against this monster, and was killed. Of these tales I hold my tongue; they are as they are; but see, now, how in the stable of the Woodsman does the young Gorbonian find his father the King, all life gone out of him, his crown crushed, the blood of his body all out upon the straw. See the Prince all in panic, the stable-walls his prison. See again his eyes return to the cause of their wildness; no more shall the King draw breath; the flood has found him; yet it is the flood not of heaven, but of human villainy. For the Woodsman, too, lies dead beside, its saddle and its shoes torn from its body: and from his father’s feet, the boots are stripped; and see, now, the mutilation of his hands, for he wore upon his finger the insignia of the throne, now finger and ring cut away. For into every storm intruders venture, hoping to sack that which they can while wildness and disorder reign: and the thief has come to the kingdom, and who shall restore that which he has taken?