425-429 (Ralquez vii-xi)
vii:
They flew! they two, and bore the ship behind
by rope, in the dragon’s tail intertwined,
and to Lewellen’s shores they forward went,
but knew not what dark deeds had been recent.
For years had gone since Zlyr had early fled
the sailors he predicted would be dead,
and took his chance to sit within the courts—
fell contracts wrote, and made-up seaborne torts.
His forethought fortunate for him indeed,
his sowing reaped the measure of his greed,
and Zlyr the mutinous held a high place
in Wrenogal’s own childhood palace.
But of all this the Wren had heard no word,
while gliding on the wind as like a bird.
viii:
They slept on the Sea Prowler in the night
(this was the name of theirs, the the sinking ship)
and took their tow again when it was bright,
their tenuous and tenured return trip.
And anchored in the deep Aeonian sea
when blessèd shore appeared far off at last,
trusting the Lord of Anonymity
to keep their only treasure anchored fast.
Deep night it was when Wrenogal arrived
and toward the chambers of the king went he,
when Zlyr he met, who’d this meeting connived,
who’d planned for this eventuality—
who’d kept a constant vigil, on his own,
for when the Wren would e’er again come home:
ix:
“Dear prince!” said he, “how, now, you come to us!
when, in the morning, is your father due
to tell of how so un-fortuitous
his line has been in waiting long for you!”
“But now his message shall be good indeed,
for you shall come before it will be said,
and not an ended line shall be decreed
but one blest by the Seraphim instead!”
“I say, enter upon the palace yard
a moment after dawn, and you shall be
applauded by the court and by the guard
when their lost and beloved son they see!”
“Forgive me, friend, for how I favored thee
upon an old and bitter southern sea.”
x:
Zlyr now awaited a response to this,
his head hung in mock penitence before
the very lord he’d left for the abyss
of an unseen and unknown foreign shore.
The first man Wrenogal had seen thus far!
First since the good and fair Naerendal fell.
Such solitude can pry the heart ajar,
and bid men to bid fair-won ire farewell.
“Dear friend, prepare my father for the morn.
I long to meet him, but I trust your way.
Better to be by dawn’s light newly born.
I’ll go now, and I’ll see you in the day.”
His ploy now set, its cascade thus began,
now keen-eyed Zlyr employed his peerless plan:
xi:
My king, Zlyr mused, the Wren now on his way,
and in the quiet midnight’s guarantee,
what was it that you were so soon to say?
What was it that tomorrow you’d decree?
That ‘rule no more will be Lewellen’s way.
I lay my crown into the sea, that took
my son away; and there the crown shall stay,
where just Aeonia alone can look.’
Zlyr slunk, now, silently, behind a door
that creaked not e’en a peep to disturb sleep,
and stole upon a carpeted room floor
to stand above his king, in dreams sunk deep.
Your crown is not the sea’s. His gambit made,
Zlyr sealed his cunning with his faithless blade.