Suspend Disbelief - Have an adventure
Children's Quest: Mark of the Spider
Mark
bounded into the room with an enthusiasm which was reserved for the young, and
possibly young at heart. He found his mother, Paul Book, sitting alone in the
kitchen. She was reading a letter, the ink wet with her tears.
“What’s
wrong, mom?” Mark asked, concern in his good eye while the white orb of his
dead eye looked in her direction without focusing.
“You’re
eighteen today,” she shoved the letter toward him. “Thorn timed the messenger
well.”
“What
is it?” Mark picked up the letter, and then started to read. It was difficult
to read the entire letter because Mark had never been overly book-smart. A
finer bowman, woodsman, or hunter there was not likely to be found, but reading
was a challenge. Despite Paul’s efforts, Mark had never taken to books
willingly.
“I’m
to report to the capital,” Mark smiled.
“It’s
not a good thing, dear. Read on.”
“The
king is recruiting men to his banner for a tournament. That sounds like fun.”
“No,
dear,” Paul sighed. “Thorn isn’t the type to have a tournament unless he’s
looking for someone. He wants the best of the best for something.”
“I’m
the best archer that ever lived,” Mark boasted.
“Again,
dear, you’re not. Your father was the best archer that ever lived. You’re the
second-best, but the best currently living.”
“Tell
me about him,” Mark sat at the table, and held his mother’s hands. “You always
seem so sad when you think of him, but smile nonetheless. What kind of man was
he?”
“He
was like you,” Paul chuckled. “Infuriating with his charm and joy in the world.
He could shoot the wings off a butterfly, and then weep for the destruction of
beauty.”
“And
he died a hero,” Mark added. “You’ve told me the story before. He killed a
dragon with a short bow using an enchanted arrow.”
“He
saved everybody, but was mortally wounded in the process. Please, let’s talk of
happier things.”
“Tell
me about my Uncle, the king?”
“Really?
What’s to tell. Your Uncle is the king. If things had gone the other way your
Uncle would still be the king, but it would have been a different Uncle.”
“I’m
royalty,” Mark smiled.
“That’s
why you’ve been invited to the tournament, now that you’re a man. It won’t be
easy if you go. Half-elves are not considered part of polite society. You’ll
face nothing but ridicule and scorn.”
“Until
I sink my first bull’s eye from four hundred yards,” Mark laughed, and poured
tea from a kettle on the table. “Seriously though, why did you love my dad?”
“Spider
could make me laugh,” Paul smiled. Mark paused. All his life he had never heard
his mother laugh other than a polite chuckle for pretense.
“What
else?” he asked.
“Dear…”
“I want to know. Tell
me everything about my father, please.”