Page 1 of The Jester's Sword




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  THE JESTER'S SWORD

  BY ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON

  _The JESTER'S SWORD_

  The Johnston Jewel Series

  BY ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON

  Each, small 16mo, cloth, decorated cover and frontispiece, withdecorative text borders _75c._

  * * * * *

  LIST OF TITLES

  THE RESCUE OF THE PRINCESS WINSOME: A Fairy Play for Old and Young.

  KEEPING TRYST: A Tale of King Arthur's Time.

  *IN THE DESERT OF WAITING: The Legend of Camelback Mountain.

  *THE THREE WEAVERS: A Fairy Tale for Fathers and Mothers as Well as for Their Daughters.

  THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING HEART.

  *THE JESTER'S SWORD.

  *Also bound in full flexible leather, with special tooling in gold,boxed

  _$2.00_

  * * * * *

  THE PAGE COMPANY 53 BEACON STREET, BOSTON, MASS.

  _THE JESTER'S SWORD_

  * * * * *

  How Aldebaran, the King's Son, Wore the Sheathed Sword of Conquest

  * * * * *

  BY ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON

  _Author of "The Little Colonel Series," "Big Brother," "Joel: A Boy ofGalilee," "In the Desert of Waiting," etc._

  BOSTON _THE PAGE COMPANY_ Publishers

  _Copyright, 1908_ BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY (INCORPORATED)

  _Copyright, 1909_ BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY (INCORPORATED)

  _All rights reserved_

  First Impression, June, 1909 Second Impression, August, 1909 Third Impression, October, 1910 Fourth Impression, November, 1911 Fifth Impression, November, 1912 Sixth Impression, January, 1916 Seventh Impression, August, 1917 Eighth Impression, April, 1920

  TO John

  "_To renounce when that shall be necessary and not be embittered._" R. L. STEVENSON.

  _The Jester's Sword_

  BECAUSE he was born in Mars' month, which is ruled by that red war-god,they gave him the name of a red star--Aldebaran; the red star that isthe eye of Taurus. And because he was born in Mars' month, thebloodstone became his signet, sure token that undaunted courage wouldbe the jewel of his soul.

  Now all his brothers were as stalwart and as straight of limb as he, andeach one's horoscope held signs foretelling valorous deeds. ButAldebaran's so far out-blazed them all, with comet's trail and planetsin most favourable conjunction, that from his first year it was knownthe Sword of Conquest should be his. This sword had passed from sire toson all down a line of kings. Not to the oldest one always, as did thethrone, though now and then the lot fell so, but to the one to whom thesigns all pointed as being worthiest to wield it.

  So from the cradle it was destined for Aldebaran, and from the cradle itwas his greatest teacher. His old nurse fed him with such tales of it,that even in his play the thought of such an heritage urged him togreater ventures than his mates dared take. Many a night he knelt besidehis casement, gazing through the darkness at the red eye of Taurus,whispering to himself the words the old astrologers had written, "_AsAldebaran the star shines in the heavens, Aldebaran the man shall shineamong his fellows._"

  Day after day the great ambition grew within him, bone of his bone andstrength of his sinew, until it was as much a part of him as the strongheart beating in his breast. But only to one did he give voice to it, tothe maiden Vesta, who had always shared his play. Now it chanced thatshe, too, bore the name of a star, and when he told her what theastrologers had written, she repeated the words of her own destiny:

  "_As Vesta the star keeps watch in the heavens above the hearths ofmortals, so Vesta the maiden shall keep eternal vigil beside the heartof him who of all men is the bravest._"

  When Aldebaran heard that he swore by the bloodstone on his finger thatwhen the time was ripe for him to wield the sword he would show theworld a far greater courage than it had ever known before. And Vestasmiling, promised by that same token to keep vigil by one fire only, thefire that she had kindled in his heart.

  One by one his elder brothers grew up and went out into the world towin their fortunes, and like a restless steed that frets against therein, impatient to be off, he chafed against delay and longed to follow.For now the ambition that had grown with his growth had come to be morethan bone of his bone and strength of his sinew. It was an all-consumingdesire which coursed through him even as his heart's blood; for withthe years had come an added reason for the keeping of his youthful vow.Only in that way could Vesta's destiny be linked with his.

  When the great day came at last for the Sword to be put into his hands,with a blare of trumpets the castle gates flew open, and a longprocession of nobles filed through. To the sound of cheers and ringingof bells, Aldebaran fared forth on his quest. The old king, his father,stepped down in the morning sun, and with bared head Aldebaran knelt toreceive his blessing. With his hand on the Sword he swore that he wouldnot come home again, until he had made a braver conquest than had everbeen made with it before, and by the bloodstone on his finger the oldking knew that Aldebaran would fail not in the keeping of that oath.

  With the godspeed of the villagers ringing in his ears, he rode away.Only once he paused to look back, when a white hand fluttered at acasement, and Vesta's sorrowful face shone down on him like a star.Then she, too, saw the bloodstone on his finger as he waved her afarewell, and she, too, knew by that token he would fail not in thekeeping of his oath.

  'Twas passing wonderful how soon Aldebaran began to taste the sweets ofgreat achievement. His name was on the tongue of every troubadour, hisdeeds in every minstrel's song. And though he travelled far to alienlands, scarce known by hearsay even to the folk at home, his fame wascarried back, far over seas again, and in his father's court his namewas spoken daily in proud tones, as they recounted all his honours.

  Young, strong, with the impetuous blood begotten of success tinglingthrough all his veins, he had no thought that dire mishap could seizeon _him_; that pain or malady or mortal weakness could pierce _his_armour, which youth and health had girt about him. From place to placehe went, wherever there was need of some brave champion to espouse aweak ones cause. It mattered not who was arrayed against him, whether atyrant king, a dragon breathing fire, or some hideous scaly monsterthat preyed upon the villages. His Sword of Conquest was unsheathed foreach; and as his courage grew with every added victory, he thirsted forsome greater foe to vanquish, remembering his youthful vow.

  And as he journeyed on he pictured often to himself the day of hisreturning, the day on which his vow should find fulfilment. How widethe gates would be thrown open for his welcome! How loud would swell thecheers of those who thronged to do him honour! His dreams were always ofthat triumphal entrance, and of Vesta's approving smile. Never once theshadow of a thought stole through his mind that it might be farotherwise. Was not he born for conquest? Did not the very starsforetell success?

  One night, belated in a mountain pass, he sought the shelter of ashelving rock, and with his mantle wrapped about him lay down to sleep.Upon the morrow he would sally forth and beard the Province Terror inhis stronghold; would challenge him to combat, and after long andglorious battle would rid the country of its dreaded foe. Alreadytasting victory, he fell asleep, a smile upon his lips.

  But in the night a storm swept down the mountain pass with sudden fury,uprooting trees a century old, and rending mighty rocks with swordthrusts of its lightning. And when it passed Aldebaran lay prone u
ponthe earth borne down by rocks and fallen trees. Lay as if dead until twopassing goat-herds found him and bore him down in pity to their hut.

  Long weeks went by before the fever craze and pains began to leave him,and when at last he crawled out in the sun, he found himself a poormisshapen thing, all maimed and marred, with twisted back and face alldrawn awry and foot that dragged. One hand hung nerveless by his side.Never more would it be strong enough to use the Sword. He could not evendraw it from its scabbard.

  As in a daze he looked upon himself, thinking some hideous nightmare hadhim in its hold. "That is not _I_!" he cried, in horror at the thought.Then as the truth began to pierce his soul, he sat with starting eyesand lips that gibbered in cold fear, the while they still persisted intheir fierce denial. "This is not _I_!"

  Again he said it and again as if his frenzied words could work a miracleand make him as he was before. Then when the sickening sense of hiscalamity swept over him like a flood in all its