by James Coplin

Created on: December 23, 2009

The Blue Rose

Once upon a time there was a Queen.

She was a Queen of such beauty that the very flowers paid homage and obeyed her. Her realm was not large - no more then the mountain on which her castle was raised - without wealth or subjects. Yet the snows that blocked the mountain passes did not touch the area claimed as hers and the frozen air hung suspended at her borders.  Within the breeze blew warm as sunshine, the air perfumed., The lawns lay green and carpeted with white clover, blue bells and violets.  She was Budleigh of the Garden Realm and Mistress of the Pedal Throne.

Below were the Five Kingdoms, ruled by proud Kings who contended in armies, wealth and splendor. Each wished to take the Empress of the Flowers to Wife, to grace their thrones and beds and display their Majesty above all others.  Each sent Ambassadors struggling up the icy pass with rich gifts of jewels, gold and apparel to show them richer and worthier then the other. Budleigh received each graciously but then sent them away unfulfilled.  She had no need for Kings, she told each, and her heart too filled with things content to whisper beauty unobserved to give thought to boast and parade.

The Ambassadors were sent back, each with stern words and threatening aspects.  It was not fitting, they each cried, for Great Kings to be so dismissed and the Kings together had decided that Five Champions would be sent to represent the Kings and fight until one alone prevailed.  The one wearing that King's colors would claim Budleigh's hand for his master.

And so it was done, the ringing of swords disturbing the peaceful air outside Budeigh's courtyard.  Budleigh watched from her tower window, unimpressed and finding the blood a poor red compared to her roses. At last the remaining Champion motioned the trumpets blown and Budleigh summoned to attend. Yet she refused to appear and a hedge of impregnable  thorns rose up to bar her gates and portico's. The Champion and his attendants rode off, as unfulfilled as had been the Ambassadors, and their frustrated Kings chewed their beards with anger.

Next FIve Armies trampled their way through the snows - cold light flashing on armor, helmets and lance tips - each of them lead by their King until they stood assembled on the field before Budleigh's castle.  They carried mighty engines of war and torches, each King prepared to join the other in burning the gardens and

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