The market crowd was growing as the traders and vendors had set up colourful stalls on which to sell their wares and farm produce. It was a good turn out by the people of the town, and as the crowd parted to allow King Henry through, he guided his stallion to a nearby teether rail and swung his leg off, jumping down from the gallant steed. He quickly threaded the leather reigns around the timber beam, and then gave the neck of his horse a pat to reassure that he would return.
At this point, the King reached up and drew back his black hood, which showed off his wavy blonde hair, that caught the light of the sun’s rays through the parting of the clouds. He was truly the most radiant looking man you had seen, only he was not a man, but one of God’s own. An Angel King who was much loved and revered by his people. Slipping off one glove at a time, he threaded them through his belt, and with a quick flick back of his cape, he strode through the markets, just like he was an ordinary citizen.
The cries of the vendors, to attract the customers to spend their purses, grew louder. Bustling crowds, the sounds of chickens and dogs yapping happily. The rising scent of cooking meats and exotic spices from the far away traders only made the King’s stomach rumble, for he had left the Castle without having had a bite to eat, aside from the apple sold to him by the small girl just outside the town gates. One stall had an elderly man who was turning a large roast pig, its size astounding, but he was preparing it for the luncheon trade. His wife, who was sitting in back, appeared to be having trouble breathing, and then she dropped her ladle and collapsed to the ground. Perhaps it was from working with the hot coals, or simple dehydration, but the King saw, and dashed around the side of the tent, and knelt down to help the woman. She was struggling to breathe, and her hoarse cries grew as she looked up into the eyes of the King. Her hand reached out to his face, as his face radiated, with the glow of light behind his head increasing. Henry’s eyes turned an amazing shade of blue, so very pure and they held hers as he whispered words, that only she could hear.
The woman’s wife ran to be by his wife’s side, knowing that she had a bad heart for years. His eyes were rimmed with tears, thinking that his wife was dying. But the King reached for her chest, and his hand glowed a hot white, that seemed to pulsate through the old woman’s chest. The woman’s eyes closed, and you could actually see a change starting to occur in her. The silver parts of her hair, started to turn back to their fiery red, and her skin became suppler, as if time itself was rolling back. Rolling back far enough to when her heart beat strong.
“What have you done, M’lord?’ The stall holder said, stroking his wife’s hair, as she started to come around, breathing normally. The King turned his head sideways, and the man could see the brilliance of Henry’s blue eyes. “Giving her back to you. God doesn’t need her just yet. You do.” The old man wept as the King helped the woman to stand, and she took his ringed hand, kissing it gently. “Thank you, M’lord. I felt the hand of death upon my soul, and yet you saved me.” The King bent his head forward and kissed her forehead, before nodding to them both, and leaving them to share in a warm embrace.
Word soon spread of the King’s miracle, and he was given a meal at the next stall and many came and gave their blessings to him. He was kind and spoke to each peasant, hearing of their concerns and prosperity. It was a wonderful way to spend his morning. Then he remembered the wife he left laying to sleep in, and he knew she would be wondering where he had taken off to so early. Thanking the kind hosts that had fed him, he wandered back over to his horse, and mounted it swiftly, as a small boy untied the reigns. All in all a wonderful morning in the Town, and he started his ride back to Vaas Plain Castle, and his dark bride; Metia.