Grandfather (part 3)

After an hour of riding, the arid mountainous lands gently gave way to a subdued yet thriving dryland forest. The mountain where the fort was situated was too rocky for this sort of vegetation of exist. Tall, dry grass susurrated past the horses' sides like a playful nest of snakes. Camouflaged beneath the bed of dead, brown blades visible on the top, the vibrant green shoots undulated with the wind like coy servant girls in the palace, secretly longing for the king's attention. Clumps of tall shrubs chaotically fight for space in a region enriched with water and nutrients. The ugly hyena occasionally laughs as it meanders through the thorny bushes, knowing that the king's prey had escaped there and was now stuck!

Hush! Hush! The wind sings as it flattens the endless bed of grass. High as the underbrush is, the soldiers are often tickled on their calves as they try to keep up with their prince. Numerous trees were bent into various shapes as they grow up caressed by the endless wind and relentless sun. With not enough water, they are each well distanced from each other, standing solemnly like sentries under the harsh sun. Each is engaged in a relentless fight with the wild shrubs that prey nearby, waiting for it to relax its gaze on its resources. Every drop of water is of paramount importance in this harsh land. Feeling the ground shake from the great momentum of the horses, an alarmed desert lizard pops its head out from where it had burrowed underground. It's color uniformly brown like the sand around it, even the little protrusions on its face resemble gravel and pebbles littered around. Wriggling around, it puts some force into its butt and struts off stylishly. A snoozing flock of birds, looking brown and unremarkable on a dry old tree suddenly comes alive. A shock of white is seen as they lift their wings exposing their underbellies as they fly, looking beautiful. The entire dry and dull forest is invigorated by their pure beauty and startling momentum.

"He he," the little prince chuckles to himself. He always loved being surrounded by the vegetation. Though it looked dry and dull, it was only nature trying to conserve itself. When it releases its beauty, it is ever more beautiful and startling than those fabled lush forests filled with colorful flowers and green vegetation.

Left behind in their dust of the horses' stampede, a tall cactus stands proud and alone, the only vegetation within an entire strip of dry land. The distant blue mountains in the background serenely embrace it in all its lonesome.

*

In an elegant, stately palace situated within a lush grove surrounding the lake, a tall, wizened old man was stroking the silk canvas gently with his brush, ensuring that the golden paint was not wasted even by a drop. The old man was concerned about wastage not because he was overly concerned by the gold, but because he highly valued accuracy and efficiency. His art forms rely heavily on those two aspects. As such they are often succinct and minimalistic, which in turn caused the art scholars to criticize them as being too narrow in scope.

Momentarily, the old, heavy brow was weighed down by a frown. The background noises of uniform horse hooves became clearer. They started a while ago, and it was nothing he didn't expect. But it has already been a while and the palace was still silent as ever.

"Hmm?" the gravelly old baritone gently reverberated in the wide chamber.

With a helpless sigh, the old man went back to concentrate on his painting. The form certainly was minimalistic, yet the detail-oriented themes hardly let him relax while depicting them. A high degree of concentration was indeed necessary. The critics only said what they did because they were unable to imagine utilizing the minimalistic art form the old man created in order depict such diverse themes.

"I hate critics," the old man murmured to himself and continued.

After a while, the clip clop noises of a middle-aged man sounded in the corridor. The door sentry announced his arrival loudly and the leader of the platoon that escorted the prince entered the simple and elegant chamber. He promptly kneeled in ceremony to greet the old man. The platoon leader had utmost respect in his heart when he did so. Yes, the old man was the regent who ruled the land in the king's stead for twelve years when he was young! He was an absolutely unshakeable figure in the kingdom, even to this day.

The old man sighed, looking at the hapless looking man who was a subordinate of the prince. "Where is the brat?"

The middle-aged man was one of the old regent's loyal guards when he was young. Later, once the old regent returned from his travels, he selected this man to put in the service of the princes. He worked first for the heir apparent and was later poached by the cunning little brother through a gamble in which he beat his elder brother. This man was not only the commander of the prince's personal guard, he was also responsible for gathering intel and maintaining communications with various parties. He was quite skilled at the job, only he never imagined that his skills would one day be exploited by a snot nosed kid with a mind full of dirty tricks.

"The young highness is taking a swim, my lord," the platoon commander answered dutifully.

"Really?" the old man frowned in surprise, "Why is Little Cactus taking a swim now? It is not that hot today…besides, that brat never feels hot. Isn't that why he always starts at midday, even though I remind him every week to start early? I would've thought he was immune to the sun if he kept this up any longer…"

"Umm…" the middle-aged man wondered if he should say it. "It's not that he's feeling hot…I don't think it's about that."

"Then what's it about?" the old man asked curiously. Generally by this time every week, the whole palace will be reverberating with the din he caused. The old man had already steeled his eardrums in anticipation of his shrill cries calling 'Grandfather! Grandfather!' in excitement. Although noise was unpleasant, it always put him in a good mood when he did that. The old man gave a lot for his elder brother's family after he died. Keeping the grand prince from hurting the newly appointed king was not an easy task. Especially when killing him off was not an option. The old man had to fight with his wits and his body to protect and promote the young king. By the time, the king's position was secure, his own youth had slipped past his fingers like loose sand in the desert. But the worst is yet to come. In the conflict back then, his wife and child had been killed!

After all, the grand prince was not that much younger than him, and already held a colossal amount of power at that time. When it turned out that things weren't going his way no matter what he did, his unlawful subordinates took things into their own hands and assassinated the regent's family in a fit of revenge. Although the grand prince felt remorse at what happened and thereafter stopped all rebellious activities, it was already too late. What is lost is lost.

So to hear this child call him grandfather instead of granduncle was indeed a solace for his old heart. If his own son was alive, he would've had a grandchild of the boy's age. And he too would've visited the Solitary Wind Palace every week to visit the old grandfather.

"The little prince had a small conflict with the captain of the guards at the fort gates…Ever since, he's been a little weird…"