Prologue
The Tale of the Twelve Hunters,
as It Has Been Inaccurately Recorded
You might have heard the story of the twelve hunters during your childhood. It’s in the same book as the fables about the princess imprisoned in the tower, the children who found a gingerbread house, and the woman who lost her shoe at a party.
Although the story was based on true events, they were recounted by those who half remembered them to those who had never witnessed them at all. Unlike the other tales, it is frequently skipped or ignored. Which is a great pity, in my opinion, because I am init.
As it has come down through the ages, it goes something like this:
Once upon a time, when the world was younger and the stars burned a little more brightly, a prince was engaged to a woman he loved beyond measure. She loved him just as much in turn. Many were the occasions they would sit together, speaking of nothing but how deeply they loved each other.
“I love you,” he would proclaim—and proclaim it he did, forthis was in the days when it was considered poor form to merely “say” something, and everyone was required to proclaim, declaim, avow, or otherwise speak more ostentatiously. So: “I love you,” he would proclaim.
“I love you more,” she would avow.
“That is impossible, for I love you most of all,” he would declare. “There can be no love that is greater than mine.”
“But my love for youisimpossible,” she would counter, “because I love you even more than the greatest amount of love one person could ever feel for another. I win.”
“You cheated,” he would sulk.
“You still lost!” she would gloat. “Suck on your loss, loser.”
And then they would make out.
One day, right in the middle of this nonsense, when they were eagerly anticipating the argument’s aftermath, a messenger arrived with an urgent message.
“What is it?” the prince snapped.
“I am sorry to interrupt your daily, um…conference with your lady love,” the messenger apologized, “but your father is gravely ill, on the very point of death, and wishes you to come to his side immediately.”
“Oh, my goodness! I will go to him at once. My darling,” the prince exclaimed as he turned to his lady, “I must depart for my own kingdom. Take this ring to keep me in your memories. I shall return to you as soon as I can.”
“Take as much time as you need,” she responded, accepting the ring. “Your ailing father needs you. I will wait, if I must, until the seas run dry.”
“You will not have to wait, for I will make my way back to you, though my path be barred by a thousand armies.”
“If those armies should impede you, I will wait for you until the sun shrivels to an ember.”
“But I shall not be impeded, though the world itself crack in twain!”
And soon.
Once their vows had scaled to satisfyingly ridiculous heights, the prince threw himself astride his loyal destrier and galloped to his father’s side. So quickly did he ride that despite the long distance, poor roads, bad weather, and occasional attacks by horrible monsters, it took him only two months, which really was pretty good time, considering. But in spite of his haste, when he arrived, his father, the king, was gasping his last. He had held out until his son’s arrival only through sheer force of will.
“My son,” his father rasped, his words faint, “I am glad I could see you one final time. I beg of you, swear to me you will fulfill my dying wish.”
“Of course!” the prince sobbed. “Anything!”
“Then I ask you to marry the princess of the mountain kingdom far to the east.”
“I shall!” the prince vowed, then added, “Wait, what?”
But the king had passed into the realms beyond mortal knowledge and spoke no more.
The prince was crowned king soon thereafter. He delayed fulfilling the vow for as long as he was able, but once the mourning period for his father had ended, he felt compelled to abide by his promise. He sent a message to the east to propose for the hand of the princess of the mountain kingdom. His suit was accepted and the engagement proclaimed throughout their lands.
