�We�re movin� on!� the voice said, and the boy tried to push himself up into a sitting postion but fell back into the mud again.
�Leave �im,� he heard another voice say, �He�s a bi� o� a runt anywe�.�
The boy had been in the hands of slave traders for so long he could not even remember his homeland. He had no memories of family, didn�t even know his name. He had tried to survive on the scraps of food and water his captors gave him. They were known for taking care of their �merchandise� if it would fetch a good price, but the boy�s scrawny form was obviously not fit for any heavy labor by any stretch of the imagination. So he was given the left overs, often nothing more than a bone or two that might have a little meat left on them. He heard a resounding hiss to his right as someone doused the camp fire, and he could hear the sounds of people packing bags and strapping them to the horses.
�It would not be long now,� he thought as he drifted further away into darkness. He almost welcomed death. After all, it couldn�t be worse than this life, could it? As he drifted away, he heard the sound of hooves thumping away from him.
He awoke later to feel milk being poured on his tongue. He then felt the shackles that had bound his hands fall to the ground. He still felt too weak to bother even opening his eyes, but he felt a pair of strong hands gently pick him up as a stranger placed him on a horse. He felt the stranger climb onto the horses back, as well, in front of him. The boy leaned his head on the rescuer�s back, and opened his eyes a little for just a moment before slipping off into a deep sleep.
The king sat beside the bed in the spacious castle room, watching the boy intently, as he had done for the past two days. The boy awoke in a weak and delirious state a few times already since he had been there, especially when they would feed him milk or broth. But the king knew it wouldn�t be long now before the boy regained his strength and would soon be conscious and in his right mind.
And he was right. The boy�s eyes opened a little, and he looked around the room. He felt the soft white blanket he was lying under, and as he looked around the stone room he noticed sunlight pouring in from an open window on the right side of the room from where he lay. He looked around some more and noticed a door to the left side, and that�s when he became aware of another presence in the room. His eyes settled on the king. He could tell there was something unusual about this man. His face remained serene, and his eyes seemed to read into the boy�s very soul. Upon noticing him the boy felt very awkward at first, but this man seemed to accept him in spite of himself. The king introduced himself as the master of the castle, and the boy felt a little more awkward as the king moved to sit beside him on the bed. Who was he that the king should sit beside him? He knew where he had come from, and he felt dirty. He was ill kept when the slavers held him captive. His long sandy colored hair was matted and darkened from sweat and dirt. His clothes were a dirty mess of rags, and being this close to royalty didn�t help his self-perception. �What is your name?" asked the king.
�I don�t know, your majesty. Everyone has always called me �boy� for as long as I could remember,� said the boy.
�Well, that won�t do,� said the king, �Why don�t I call you Ian?�
Ian nodded. The king seemed so pristine as he recounted the story of how his son, Arene, brought Ian back to the palace. Ian knew he owed him his life, and yet this one, the king, was welcoming Ian to his home, his palace, as though he were a guest. Ian wished he at least had a name to give to him when he had awakened. After explaining where they were and how the boy came to be in his palace, to the boy�s surprise, the king invited him to a banquet later that night.
�But my Lord,� replied Ian, �I am unclean, and I�ve nothing but these rags to wear.�
�You needn�t worry on that,� the king replied, �I�ll have someone send for you once your bath is ready, and you�ll wear some of my clothes tonight.�
Upon hearing this, Ian was immediately overcome with curiosity.
His inhibitions beaten by his inquisitiveness, Ian asked, �Why?� He then realized how informally he had addressed royalty, and embarrassed he stammered out, �I mean, why would you do this for me?�
The king smiled and replied, �We can�t very well have our guest of honor show up for his banquet in dirty old rags now can we? Once you�ve refreshed yourself, feel free to explore the palace and the grounds. I will send one of my servants for you when the banquet is ready. You�ll find a little bread and water on the table by your bed to hold you over until then.� And with that the king left the room.
Ian was too astonished for words. He pushed aside the soft covers and got up from the bed, and wabbling a little, took a short stroll about the room. He then took the bread and water to the window and smelled the fresh morning air flowing in from the outside as he ate. He was really quite hungry, and he ate the bread quickly. Ian knew that the palace must�ve been a massive structure, but it still surprised him to see just how far he was from the ground. He had never been so high in his life. He could see the tops of mountains from this very window. It would take him days to explore the palace in its entirety. He could not remember a time when he had ever been treated so well and so comfortably in his life. It wasn�t long before there was a knock at the door.
�Come in,� said Ian.
A well dressed male servant entered the room and bowed, making him feel that much more awkward. He wore a brown and white shirt and trousers. As Ian observed him, he found the servant�s dress to be rather unusual. It wasn�t the dress itself; it was the fact that he seemed to be dressed at least as well as the king. Though in his memory there was still no way to compare the two. Apparently, the king might not have bothered to distinguish himself from his servants in dress, but he would stand out in a crowd anyway. He had never met someone like the king before.
�We have drawn a bath for you, sir,� he said, �If you�ll allow me, I�ll show you the way.�
�Yes, of course,� said Ian. And with that he followed him through the hall.
It was the first time Ian had a bath since his capture, and he did indeed feel refreshed. He found a plain pair of brown pants and a brown shirt, and There was even a pair of new shoes He had just finished dressing when there was another knock at the door.
A bit surprised, Ian said, �Come in.�
A familiar face entered the room. It reminded Ian of the king, and yet it wasn�t the king. The man Ian saw was wearing green and white trousers and shirt, and there was a red cape draped over his shoulders. But it was the gold trim around the collar that caught Ian�s attention. Where had he seen that before? Then he remembered in a moment of semi-consciousness he was on the back of a horse, and his head was resting on the back of another rider on the same horse. His eyes widened with realization. �You!� he exclaimed.