If you would like to support this free ebook, consider sponsoring a chapter. Thank you!
Sponsor the next chapter for $10
Previous chapters:
“We’ve got to hide you,” King Cyrus began, looking wildly around.
“Is Zeno here or something?” Zoe asked.
“He will be,” Cyrus cautioned. “If anyone sees you, they’ll report it to him immediately.”
“I’m pretty sure Zeno already knows we’re here,” Raven commented. “I mean, it’s the obvious place for Philothea to go.”
The king turned his fretful gaze on Raven.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Raven added. Then, placing a proud hand on Philothea’s shoulder, said. “After all, Philothea is the one person Zeno fears. If your people have any brains at all, they’ll side with her.”
Cyrus looked down at the smiling, round-faced, sweet-eyed little girl in front of him. He seemed unconvinced.
“The prophecy is on her side,” Raven reminded. “I say we remind the people.”
“Take me back home,” Philothea demanded. “And tell our people they don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
The king stood for a long moment, lost in thought. He closed his eyes, thinking deeply, running over his options in his mind. Finally, King Cyrus opened his eyes and nodded. He took his horse by the reins and began leading the party back toward the castle.
Philothea was feeling a combination of delighted and apprehensive as she followed. Part of her wondered if her own father was just playing along with her so he could turn her over to Zeno. His tearful delight at their reunion filled her with optimism, yet she remained alert and watchful.
There was so much she wanted to ask him, so much she wanted to tell him, but neither seemed to know where to begin. While Philothea was still forming the conversation in her mind, she noticed a small company of armed men approaching from the village gate.
“My personal guard,” the king explained. “I raced out ahead of them.”
He waved at the approaching party, and the man riding at the front waved back.
When they were within earshot, the king proclaimed, “My daughter, Princess Zoe, has returned!”
Zoe scowled, thrust her hands on her hips, and mumbled, “I am not okay with this.”
The approaching guards paused, looking at Philothea, trying to take in the king’s words.
“She is here to fulfill the prophecy,” King Cyrus continued.
Most of the men went slightly pale. She could see the fear flashing in their eyes.
“She is here,” Cyrus tried. “To overthrow Zeno!”
Someone in the back of the company held his spear up in the air and roared, “YEEESSS!!! DEATH TO ZENO!!!”
The other guards parted slightly as they all craned their necks to see who it was. The perpetrator was a shrimp of a man; his oversized helmet partly concealed his vision. The arm that held up the spear triumphantly was much thinner than the spear itself. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen.
“Um… Dave…” one of his fellows mumbled, elbowing him.
The shrimp stopped waving his spear around and pushed his helmet up so he could see.
“Wait, where is the warrior princess?” he asked, looking over the heads of Cyrus’s party.
His fellow nodded toward Philothea. The enthusiasm melted from Dave’s face. “Darn, we’re all going to die.”
Philothea laughed. She laughed long and hard and without shame, as her father’s company looked increasingly more confused. Raven and Pouli laughed with her while Zoe contributed by regarding the terrified warriors with a slightly amused twinkle in her eyes.
“Wait… why are you laughing?” the head guard asked.
“Because you were expecting a warrior,” Philothea grinned. “Do I look like a warrior?”
“No, not really,” Dave called from the back of the group.
“I am a defender,” Philothea explained. “I’m not going to fight Zeno. None of us will.”
“So… we’re all going to die or just continue living as slaves or what?” Dave asked.
“None of that,” Philothea pressed. “Because I am going to protect you.”
A moment of silence elapsed before Dave threw up his spear arm and cried out, “YES!! DOWN WITH ZENO! LONG LIVE PRINCESS ZOE!”
Dave’s enthusiasm, like Philothea’s laughter, was somewhat contagious. All the guards joined in, chanting: “Long live Princess Zoe!”
“EXCUSE ME!” Philothea cried.
The rabble died down, and the men looked at her.
“I’m not Zoe.” Philothea pointed to her friend. “She’s Zoe.”
“So she’s the princess?” Dave asked.
“No, no,” Philothea replied. “I’m the princess, but my name isn’t Zoe anymore. It’s Philothea.”
“I’m confused,” Dave stated.
King Cyrus helped by throwing his arm around Philothea’s shoulder. “This is my daughter Princess Philothea! She has returned to fulfill the prophecy!”
“And anyone who knows the prophecy knows that this battle ends in Philothea’s favor,” Raven added. “So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stand with her.”
The Fables of Para Sympan 