The brothers all
nodded solemnly as the Marquis continued. "The task you must complete is
to search near and far, in this kingdom and in others, for the smallest
and prettiest dog in the world. Whichever of you complete this task within
one year from today will receive my throne."
That evening the
three sons rode out in different directions in search of the smallest and
prettiest dog in the world. Lestat rode for many days until he came upon a
particularly thick forest. Undaunted, the youngest son unsheathed his
broadsword and slashed at the excessive foliage, cutting a swath straight
to the heart of the forest. The darkness crawled up and around him, making
his horse whinny in fear, but once Lestat reached the heart of the forest
he could only stand in awe.
A castle, the most
beautiful castle he had ever beheld, was situated upon a hill of greenest
grass and surrounded by a moat of sparkling clear water. Every window of
the castle shone in the sunlight and sweet music of a slightly somber
variety could be heard from within.
Presuming the castle
to be a fine place in which to rest, Lestat bade his horse forward; but no
sooner had he begun the approach than a violent thunderstorm erupted out
of nowhere. "That's strange," thought Lestat as he struggled to keep his
horse moving in the right direction, "I could have sworn the sun was
shining in a cloudless sky while I looked upon that castle."
The rain began to
pour just as Lestat approached the lowered drawbridge. The sound of the
horse's hoofs seemed deafening even with such a storm raging, and by the
time Lestat and his steed were safely within the castle's walls, both
horse and rider were soaked to the bone. Lestat dismounted, wiping the
water from his face and casting a glance back at the condition of things
outside. To his surprise, the sky was cloudless and the ground was
dry.
Curious, Lestat
moved to investigate when the sound of wolves baying in the distance gave
him pause. It would be far wiser, even to an adventurer like himself, to
rest and seek shelter rather than risk a pack of wolves on so little
sleep. Perhaps his host could answer a few pointed questions.
Turning back to his
horse, Lestat received yet another puzzling surprise. The reins were being
held roughly waist high, as though by a kindly servant while a blanket was
placed over the shivering creature. The peculiarity was that no servants
could be seen. "Ghosts?" Lestat approached the reins, still held aloft as
though someone was preparing to guide the dappled mare to a stable
somewhere. "Speak, ghosts. Why are you performing menial
chores?"
There was no
response, but a pair of warm hands suddenly could be felt upon Lestat's
back. They were soothing for a moment, and then began lifting his coat.
Lestat whirled around to find that this servant too was a ghost, or at
least invisible to the naked eye. "Well, you don't seem harmful. I suppose
it's alright." He allowed the hands to remove his coat and shirt and to
bring him a blanket. He was grateful for the hospitality, though unsure to
whom he should be grateful as the hands began gently to nudge him in the
direction of what must be a banquet hall.
"At least they
haven't done me any harm," he thought. "I wonder how I could possibly
fight them if they decided to attack, though."
The invisible hands
led Lestat to a generous banquet hall adorned with all manner of native
and exotic foods. His stomach got the better of his judgement and soon
Lestat was taking part in a huge feast for which he was the only guest.
After a moment, though, a heavy wooden door swung soundlessly open. Lestat
stood, expecting his host. Instead of a man or woman, however, a sleek
black cat padded soundlessly into the room. It's emerald eyes shone with
an undeniable intelligence as it regarded Lestat for a moment before
leaping gracefully into the large wood and black velvet chair at the head
of the table.
Lestat looked at the
cat for a long time before it spoke in a softly masculine purr, "Welcome
to my
home."
