Prince Alexander's Own Story! Exclusive Interview

Prince Alexander's Own Story!: Exclusive Interview
Captive for 17 years, kidnapped prince escapes evil wizard, Medusa, monsters, banits, and pirates. He crosses deserts, mountains, and the Western Sea to return home--and that was easy part. In this Daventry People esclusive, the prince tells us how he rescued both his twin sister, Princess Rosella, and the kingdom of Daventry from the very clutches of the fire-breathing dragon. Daventry People reporter Derek Karlavaegen caught up with the prince as he relaxed in Castle Daventry, the home he had never known...

To look at Prince Alexander today, it is hard to imagine that he is the same person as the bawling babe who was snatched one summer's evening from the rocking cradle on the shores of Lake Maylie, all those years ago. Lean of body, he is taller than his father, but his eyes and the firm set of his jaw are the same as King Graham's His mother's fairness of face is alsoe there for all to see, and Alexander's resembalance to his sister, Princess Rosella, is quite pronounced. One only has to look at them together to know they are twins. Even without the evidence of the small birthmark on his right though, his ears alone would mark him as the king's son. His voice is soft, mature beyond his young years. As he spoke to me, it held me with its intensity as if reliving his experiences for others might exorcise the daemons of his past.

Our interview was conducted over several days and was interrupted frequently by the queen's reports on the king's improving physical condition, and by their spontaneous hugs and tears. At these times of family emotion, I would withdraw discreetly; some emotions demand their privacy. I have edited the prince's words somewhat for brevity and style.

Question: Prince Alexander, can you tell us somethingm about what it was like growing up as a slave to the wizard Manannan?
Actually, I still have a lot of trouble with the name Alexander. The wizard named me Gwydion. It is the only name I have ever really known, and I suspect that I'll always think of myself by that identity.

Chores and punishments, work and sleep; this is all that I knew while growing up. And reading; Manannan did allow me to read books from his library, although he never allowed me to find them for myself. He would tell me that reading kept me quiet and out of trouble when I wasn't doing something useful. Manannan always fancied himself a scholar and kept books on all sorts of subjects on the shelves in his study. From them I learned of the existence of magic, although no books on how to practice it were given me. I read from the histories and legends of our world and the Other World, pored over maps, studied drawings of the beasts and creatures who roam and soar and swim, and imagined myself free of my master, roaming and adventuring throughout the fabulous world that I knew only secondhand.

Most of my time was spent doing whatever task Manannann set me to--cleaning the chamber pot in his bedroom, dusting his office with the feather brush that he kept atop the cabinet, feeding the chickens, preparing his meals--whatever he desired. He didn't like me to dawdle, either. If I did not get my job done quickly, he would point a finger of punishment at me. At those times I considered myself lucky if he only materialized me into my locked room. At least I was safe; never did he enter my poor room. Manannan always warned me if I messed up my chores once too often, it would be the last thing I ever did.

He was both evil and cruel. I knew Manannan kept a keen eye on the countryside of Llewdor by way of a looking glass he kept in the house's tower; and from there he could terrorize the people who lived in that country. He said that if I ever attempted to escape, he would be able to find me at once through the device. My penalty for such an act would be death, and when he told this to me he spoke as if he enjoyed the prospect. He delighted in telling me of the other boys who had served him and of how they had died for their various transgressions. He would tell me this in lurid detail.

Death too was threatened me if he ever caught me in possesion of his personal things, or in posession of anything that might have any magical use. He would tell me, between threats, "Keep your hands clean and your pockets empty!"

Obey Manannan I did, although try as I might, he always found a petty mistake for which to exacta punishment. In the final weeks of my captivity, it was as if he were looking for an excuse to terminate my existence. It was at this time that I determined to be free of the wizard's tyranny. The worst he could do was kill me, and I suspected he was ready to do that anyway. Often had my master spoken of how none of his prior boys, for whatever reasons, had survived past their eighteenth birthday. On other occasions he promised me release when I turned that manful age. My own eighteenth birthdate was just weeks away, and I suspected--from Manannan's words and the hateful look in his eyes--that I would do my last chores that day, my last anything that day. I truly had nothing to lose and prepared myself to act at the first oppertunity.

A few days later, soon after I had fed the chickens outside, Mananann materialized to inform me he was leaving on a journey and to warn me to stay out of trouble while he was gone. The moment he disappeared from view, I sprang into action.

My plan was to first make a thorough search of the house. I knew the wizard had a laboratory hidden somewhere below his study. It was a place I had never seen, but knew existed because my master occasionally spoke of going there to perform some magical experiment or other.

I also knew that he must have secrets hidden in his bedroom, because I was only allowed there to empty the chamber pot and only them for a very short time.