Story of Tilula

water may help, my lord. The one sold by the reclusive Indri." the friend said, referring to the ugly prince of the forest.

  At his words, Taruk's daughter lit up. She had heard very little of the fabled prince of frogs. As the child of a prominent man of the village, she was not allowed to venture outside of their house without the company of a servant. And the servants and other people of the village weren't allowed to talk of trivial matters in front of her. "Indri? Who is this Indri?"

  The friend smiled and turned his face toward her. "The son of a water sprite and the late frog king, my lady. His late father gave in his keeping a spring that produces healing water, and he sprinkles the water over his flowers so that they grow beautifully."

  Anif leaned closer to Taruk's daughter, and cupped a hand by the side of his mouth to emphasize what he was saying. "I've heard that he occasionally sells flasks of healing water to people with enough payment."

  The girl gasped, and then rushed to her father. She took her father's hand in hers and begged her father to seek Indri. "Oh Father, can we not go to him? Maybe he can help us."

  Taruk cursed. "Indri? That black-hearted monster? Hah! The day I go to him is the day I've gone mad. That man is evil, I tell you. He's as ugly as the demon of the ancient tales. I swear, he'll eat me the moment I step foot upon his forest."

  "You don't know that."

  "I do! He's been rude to all his customers. An antisocial humbug, that one. And he should be. A mere glance at him would surely give one a heart attack."

  "Do you have to be so cruel, Father?" Tilula, for that was the name of Taruk's daughter, folded her hands in front and gnashed her teeth. She knew her father was a stubborn man, but to risk his son's life over his pride?

  "I speak the truth," Taruk stated. No daughter of his was going to change his mind.

  Before he could say so, his wife rushed into the room, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wore an elegant gown of blue silk, with a gold sash over one of her shoulders, and a gold belt that circled her slender waist. There were golden bracelets on her fingers, and a feather of deep blue behind one ear. She was one of the loveliest women of the village. But now she looked tired and devastated.

  "How does he fare?" Taruk asked as he opened his arms. His wife rushed into them and wept.

  "No better. Oh god?" she said, "I swear I'll do anything, anything so he would live."

  "Come now, my dear. Our son won't die."

  The wife shook her head and continued weeping. Tilula could only look on.

  "No. if we don't do something? anything? he'll die. And I won't be able to live with myself - a woman who let her son die."

  When Tilula heard these words from her mother, her temper rose. She was not going to sit upon the cushions while her brother was wasting away in the upper room. She had two feet, and was a swift runner. And if the forest was farther than she'd imagined, she could always ride her horse.

  "That's it," she said. "If no one is going to the eastern forest, then I will. Surely you will agree, Mother?"

  "The eastern forest?" her mother asked, a bewildered expression on her face.

  Tilula smiled and sat up straight. She then retold all that their friend had said about Indri and his healing water to her mother. She realized that she'd caught her mother's attention when a light of hope flickered in her eyes.

  "So you see, there's still hope." Tilula ended her speech, and looked to her father. She again willed her father to agree with the idea of going to Indri's domain.

  Her mother looked up at her father, and she too pleaded for Taruk to go on the quest.

  "My dear, can you not go? This Indri may be the solution. With his water, our son may be healed." She held fast to her husband's hands, knowing that he would not be able to deny her anything. "Please buy some. We have more than enough to pay for a flask. Tell me you'll go."

  Taruk looked from his wife, then to his daughter. He loved his wife very much, more than he could ever love anything else. And if his wife saw Indri's healing water as the only resort left to cure their son, then he would agree. "Very well. I'll go and seek the man's presence."

  His wife wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "Oh thank you, my love."

  "I'll start preparing for the trip right now," he muttered.

  "So soon?" Tilula asked. She had expected her father to rest tonight and start packing in the morning. It was what he usually did when procuring new wares from another village. He would wake long before sunrise to assemble his men, and leave just after cock crow.

  As if understanding his daughter's confusion, he clarified the route that he was to take. "It is a night's travel to the eastern forest, and it tends to be chilly. Provisions for a comfortable journey are needed."

  He released his wife from his embrace so that she could return to keeping watch over their son. Taruk then motioned for his friend to get up. He wanted Anif to spread news of their departure throughout the village. Once the men that helped him transport wares from one village to another heard of this latest journey, they would no doubt go with him. He paid his workers handsomely, after all. His friend understood what Taruk wanted him to do. So he left the parlor, leaving Taruk and Tilula within the room.

  Taruk crossed the parlor and stood in front of his daughter.

  Tilula wore a cheeky expression on her face. If ever there was a being that could convince her father to do anything, it was her mother. She'd come at the right time, and Tilula was happy about that.

  As if to confirm her thoughts, Taruk sighed and patted her on the head. "I hope you're happy."

  --

  Jeweled turban, golden robes, rings upon his finger. Merchant, Indri thought as he eyed his new customer from head to foot. From the looks of this merchant man, Indri concluded that he was rich enough to sink a galleon.

  "What do you want?" Indri asked, knowing all too well what the man had come for. Indri had been sitting idly by the window of his room, when he noticed that a company of men had arrived in front of the hedge. From his vantage point, he'd seen a large pot of golden coins, carried by what Indri assumed was a travelling servant. Indri had immediately sought the most richly decorated man among the group and identified him as the customer seeking his presence.

  His guess had been correct. The man was now with him in the grand hall, sitting by his side on the grand table and helping himself to some honeyed bread.

  And after he had his fill, the man bowed in front of him and stated strongly, "I've come to acquire healing water for my son. He's been gravely ill for a sennight, and we have no other means to cure him."

  Indri rubbed his chin. Here was a man who could afford anything in the world, but had come to his mansion to spend money upon his water. And all for a little boy that Indri did not even know. If perhaps this man brought up the subject of his son to gain his pity then it was to no avail. "You seem like a rich man, so I'll sell some to you. However, the water doesn't come cheaply, and with your status I'll have to triple the price."

  "What?!" the merchant boomed, surprising the sprites that were gathered around them. They quickly hid behind the pillars of the great hall, while their master, unflinching in front of the merchant, stood his ground.

  "It's only fair that I raise the price. Others with far less money have sought my help. So? that's nine thousand gold pieces."

  "Nine thousand? I only brought three thousand, your usual fare." The merchant frowned.

  "Then you may leave, and come back once you've acquired the sum." Indri was about to turn away when the man, prostrate on the floor, reached for the edge of his robe and pulled it to gain his attention.

  The merchant clutched Indri's hem tightly in his hand. "I can't! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to travel to my village? My son will be dead by the time I return with his medicine."

  Something deep and dark took root in Indri's heart. Here was another man who loved one of his own, who would do anything to keep someone close to his heart happy. Indri wanted to grind his teeth and sla
m his fist into the nearest pillar in jealousy. Nobody had ever cared for him that way. He hardened his heart instead, and spoke coldly of his resolution to the merchant. "I'm afraid it's the only choice I can give you. Nine thousand in gold or nothing."

  "Please, Master. Is there no pity in your heart? Can you not show some kindness to my virtuous son?" the merchant asked.

  "Virtuous?" At that statement, Indri stopped his departure. He turned about so that he may hear what the merchant had to say. The words of his mother whirled in his head.

  The merchant realized that he'd gained the prince's attention. "Yes. My little virtuous son, who is too young yet to meet the face of death. He is the only treasure I can truly never live without. My own wife will grieve to her death if ever my son should not survive his malady."

  For a long moment, Indri thought his situation over. His mother did say that he needed to dwell in the presence of virtue, and this man had unwittingly given him the location of it. All he needed to do was convince the man to allow him to be near the son, and then he, the prince of frogs, would become one of the most handsome people in the world.

  "There is another way," Indri finally stated.

  "There is?"

  "I will give you a flask of water. I will also join your company when you return to the village. I will live in your household, in your son's room to be specific, until such time that he is healed of sickness."

  "Surely you do not mean to frighten my son to his death?!" the