In a land far, far away, there lived a king and a queen who had three young sons. The two youngest princes – Arystan and Tolkyn – were just like other boys. They ran around the castle gardens together and were most at home in the stables. They couldn’t wait to become royal knights. They would ride horses, fight opponents in jousting tournaments, and defend their country from its enemies.
But their eldest brother Sarsen was completely different. He did not share any of their enthusiasm for tradition. On the rare occasions when he ventured outside, it was never with a wooden sword and shield in his hand to practice his skills. Instead, he would usually be armed with a basket of vegetables and herbs from the castle gardens, which he would take back to the cooks in the royal kitchen. He loved watching them at work and had thousands of questions. He offered help in every way, tasted, and when he was older, took notes, and even gave someone a piece of advice here and there. Over the years, the cooks got used to having the crown prince in the kitchen and even liked his presence there. After all, who wouldn’t be pleased with someone so eager to help out and to learn?
However, the King did not share his cooks’ enthusiasm. “The boy is my firstborn son!” he despaired. “According to tradition, he will one day rule over the whole country. Will he lead the kingdom wearing a white cap instead of a crown and with a wooden spoon in his hand instead of a sceptre?”
So the King and Queen gave their eldest son a good talking to. They bargained with him. They gave him orders. They forced him to start…
