Stories from the Ballads | Page 8

for the little prince, and, as the years rolled
by, Athulph and Fykenyld thought there was no one to equal their
prince Hynde Horn. They would serve him loyally when he was king
and they were men.
All went well in the palace of this far-off eastern land until Hynde Horn
was fifteen years of age. Then war came, without warning, into this

country of blue sky and blazing sun.
Mury, King of the Turks, landed in the kingdom of King Allof, who
was all unprepared for fight. And King Mury, with his fierce soldiers,
pillaged the land, killed the good King Allof, seized his crown, and
placed it on his own head.
Then poor Queen Godylt fled from the palace, taking with her Hynde
Horn and his two playmates Prince Athulph and Prince Fykenyld.
I cannot tell you what became of the beautiful queen, but Mury, the
cruel king, captured Hynde Horn and made him and his two
playfellows prisoners.
What should he do with Prince Horn, who was heir to the kingdom he
had seized?
Should he kill the lad, he wondered. Yet cruel as King Mury was, he
could not do so dastardly a deed.
But Hynde Horn was tall and strong, and Hynde Horn was loved by the
people. He must certainly be sent out of the country.
So King Mury planned, and King Mury plotted, and at length he
thought of a way, by which he hoped to be for ever rid of the gallant
prince and his two companions.
He ordered the prisoners to be brought down to the seashore, and there
the lads were thrust into an open boat, and pushed out to sea. It seemed
as though they must perish, for King Mury had given orders that no
provisions were to be placed in the boat.
There was neither helm nor oar for the little craft. The lads could do
nothing to guide her on her dangerous course. Now they would drift
gently on the swell of the quiet sea, now they would whirl giddily on
the crest of a storm-tossed wave. Faint and weary grew Hynde Horn
and his two companions. It seemed to them that they would perish from
hunger or be devoured by the storm.

Yet every day the little boat was drifted by soft breezes or driven by
wild storm-clouds westward and always westward. At length one day a
great wave came and lifted it high up on to the coast. The boys had
reached Scotland, the country over which King Alymer ruled.
Now it chanced that King Alymer was passing along the sea-coast, and
seeing the lads lying there, pale and bruised, he ordered that they
should be carried to the palace, that they might be fed and that their
wounds might be bathed.
So carefully were they tended in the palace of King Alymer that soon
roses bloomed again on the cheeks of Hynde Horn and his two
companions, strength crept back to their bruised bodies.
Ere many weeks had passed all in the palace loved Hynde Horn and
knew that he was a prince worthy of his name.
When the prince was well, King Alymer listened to the story the lad
had to tell, the story of his ruined home, his lost kingdom, his suffering
at the hands of the cruel King Mury.
And King Alymer, for he was gentle at heart, shed a tear as he heard.
'Thou shalt stay at our court, Hynde Horn,' he said, 'and learn all that a
prince should learn. Then, when thou art older, thou shalt go to war
with Mury, the cruel king of the Turks. Thou shalt win back thine own
kingdom and rule over it.'
Then the king called for Athelbras, his steward, and bade him care for
Prince Horn and his two companions.
A suite of rooms was given to the prince in the palace, and here he and
his playfellows were trained in all courtly ways.
When his studies were over, Hynde Horn would go out to hawk and
hunt. Often, too, he would wrestle and tilt with his companions, so that
in days to come he would be able to take his place in battle and in
tournament.

But one day King Alymer heard the young prince's voice as he sang. So
pure, so sweet rang the voice that the king said to himself, 'Hynde Horn
shall be trained by the best harpist in our land.'
Then happy days began for the young prince. Rather would he sing, as
he touched softly the cords of the harp, than would he fight or tilt;
rather would he sing and play, than go to hunt and hawk. Yet well had
he loved these sports in former days.
Now, King Alymer had one daughter, the Princess Jean. Dearly