The King's Three Sons ONC2023

Pawel

Pawel mounted his horse on the narrow road as soon as he cleared the iron door, and didn't bother to look back at it-not even taking time to pick up his lockpicks. Either that portal would be there and would work when the tasks were complete or he would fail. No amount of worry would change that.

Not far off in the distance, a cottage organically emerged from the terrain. Its weathered wood would have stood out against a lush farm, but this barren bit of dirt was old cottage grey.

The sun was too blue for such a miserable sight.

Pawel had no clue as to what this story would be, so he decided to check in the cottage.

Stony was an intelligent warhorse, but not near as high spirited as his brother Olbrecht's. That meant he could easily be left in the desolate yard as he walked inside-with a small pat to his side as Pawel finally picked up his lockpicks.

Inside, a woman stood with her hand half-raised for a strike-still, waxen. Someone took the time to sculpt the life of a passionate woman and leave her dead in a building half falling apart around her. The rest of the room? Decayed trash, nothing to even rummage through with the hope of finding anything interesting.

Curiosity dragged Pawel out to the center of this woman's focus, to see what it felt like to be under her fury. That thought brought a wolfish grin to his face. She was beautiful-not necessarily in looks, but in having that element that too many well-bred women would hide, leaving them boring to talk to.

He was caught up in that almost anticipation such creatures gave him...

until she slapped him.

The force jarred his face back, and made his cheek sting.

"Jack!" she hissed, "you do not sell the cow out on the road at a cheaper price than you get in town and you certainly don't sell it for beans!"

"Woman, what are you talking about?" Pawel was rubbing his cheek and belatedly realizing that both his gauntlets and helm were gone-glancing down, he noticed drab peasant's attire.

"Pull them damn beans out your pocket, Jack."

"Woman, there is nothing in my pockets!" Pawel protested, shoving his hand in his pocket to pull out a napkin full of iridescent beans. The shine of the pile could compete with pearls. "Well, what is this?"

The look of agony on her face at his confusion made him want to distract her, but she was too quick for what he had in mind. She smacked his hand hard, and the beans flew all over the place, disappearing as soon as they touched the ground in little puffs of smoke. "My son, the only magic these little beans had was to look pretty and disappear. You traded that old milk cow for a dream."

The libido that stirred at the raw beauty of the rage she expressed died with her declaring him her son, which left Pawel not having a single interest in calming her down. The fates had tricked him, putting him in this position. But the conversation would be tedious if he didn't at least try. "Then let's leave here and find the chance for a better life elsewhere. I'm sure we could figure out a means of living."

"Son, you couldn't figure out a hill of beans." With that, the woman fully collapsed against him and bawled her poor heart out on her child. That was damned awkward for Pawel. He felt that if she hugged him any tighter he'd have to learn to breathe through his ears.

The ground shook so hard that they tumbled to the floor, leaving Pawel to pin his "mother" in place until the ground ceased its dance.

"If you do not get off me, I'll cut a switch and tan your hide!"

Pawel laughed as he disentangled them, not embarrassed at all, but this "mother" was beet red. Distraction was the better part of valor, this time. "Mother, there hasn't been a bush on the farm in years. You'll have to cut a switch from the very walls."

She did laugh at that. The woman must have had a lot of patience and humor about her to endure for so long, but Pawel had to admit that he'd have done far worse to a son who brought back beans.

Then it dawned on him that this Jack was Anselm, a child of nonsense who brought change to stories like deadly sea storms wrecking the coast. That's what had him hurry to check and see what was going on outside the cottage.

Pawel opened the door to an enormous leafy branch. He stepped out and was smacked in the face with a descending bean pod, which he snapped off and brought back in for his "Mother". "Ma'am we need to eat and climb up to the top of this beanstalk."

"Why not go down?" This mother began breaking the pod open and tested the immature beans inside-they were soft so she bit into it with a soft moan.

Pawel shook his head at the madness of his situation. Was this woman real? If so, he had to live within her delusions until she woke up or the story ended, but if she wasn't real, then why would it matter what he did with her? Would it be best to leave her? "We lived with down. It's a miserable place-and I won't leave you alone here."

The answer was out of him before he decided. He fought against a sardonic smirk as he acknowledged that his heart would choose to treat her as real, keep her with him. This was why he could one day be labeled a good king, but not a great one.

The fact that he could see this, now, made Anselm all the more frightening.

Pawel waited until she finished before grabbing her hand. "Mother, what is your name?"

"Jack, you should know my name."

"I've only ever called you mother." Which was true, Pawel knew nothing about this woman.

"Isolde."

Pawel wondered if she was from an old tale to carry such a name, but at least he could stop calling her his mom. "I will help you to reach the top. Now, gird yourself."

Many in older cultures remember to tie the long skirts between the legs, and Isolde didn't need to be told twice, hiking up her skirts for the journey ahead of them. "Well, with these beans, we shouldn't starve anymore."

That part hit hard. Like Pawel ever starved save by his own choice. If this woman was real, there was nothing on that farm but desolation. Her son sold their future for food. No wonder she lost it.

But such a child would be starving. Why would anyone send the kid out to sell a cow under these circumstances? It made no sense.

Pawel's thoughts troubled him as he helped Islode ascend the intertwined beanstalks.