PRINCE JANOS OF THE TWO FACES by Jennifer Hor Page 1

PRINCE JANOS OF THE TWO FACES

Hundreds of years ago a queen was giving birth to her first child in her
bedchamber. Beside her bed stood her senior ladies-in-waiting, the midwife and
Primo, the king’s chief minister, whose duty it was to ensure the newborn baby really
was born of the queen and not smuggled in or exchanged with another baby.
Outside the bedchamber the king himself sweated and paced the floor,
stopping if he heard a noise from inside, then resuming his frenzied walking when the
door stayed closed. After a very long stretch of time, during which the sun rose,
reached its zenith, descended and set, the door finally opened, slowly and
apologetically, and Primo, wiping his forehead with a cloth, stepped out. From inside
came the sounds of weeping and moaning.
“What’s the news, Primo? Is the queen all right? Has she delivered the child?”
The king gripped Primo by the shoulders hard.
“She has, Your Majesty. She is in good health. The child is male.”
An heir! A male heir! “Then why do I hear the women weeping?” the king
almost yelled.
“Well, um – the boy – I’m not sure what to say but –“
“Is there something wrong? Come out with it, Primo! Be direct as you usually
are! The future of the royal dynasty and the kingdom could be at stake!”
“Well, Your Majesty – the boy has two faces, one in front as usual, and the
other on the crown of his head looking upwards and back, as in the ancient Roman
legend of Janus the two-headed god. That’s why the women are upset.”
“By God, is it really so?!”
“It is as I have described. The midwife is holding the child and wants to know
what to do with him. Do you wish the child to live or die?”
“What would be the consequences of letting him die?” The king frowned.
“We would have our work cut out hushing up the child’s death and burial,
having to explain why we got rid of it when everything else about it is normal,
pretending the child was stillborn or that the queen had a phantom pregnancy or the
baby’s father was someone else.” Primo drew a breath sharply. “The rumours and
gossip flying among the courtiers, the servants, the stable hands, the gardeners, the
guards … imagine, the innuendo would be never-ending. Some of it would be bound
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to reach people beyond the palace. A feast for your enemies, I would add. The
midwife is waiting, Your Majesty. You must make a decision.”
The king hesitated.
“Let the child live!” he blurted and started to walk away. Then he stopped and
turned around. “See to it the child’s deformity is not know outside the palace. Anyone
who reveals such knowledge to the outside world will be imprisoned and whipped!”
“Will you not see the child and acknowledge him as your heir?”
“We’ll raise the child as a prince and as part of the royal family but … no, I
will not acknowledge him as heir. That will be decided later!” And the king strode
away.
Primo shrugged and returned to the bedchamber. The queen and her ladies
were still upset. The midwife approached the minister with the swaddled baby. The
child’s face in front was squalling loudly but the wrinkled, elfin face at the back of the
head was asleep with a calm expression that to Primo spoke of an inner wisdom far
beyond even his own years and experience.
“What did the king say?” hissed the midwife.
Primo told the women everything. The midwife sighed in relief but the queen
began crying again. “It’s taken ten years since our marriage for a child to be born,”
she sobbed, “must it be another ten years before I have another child that my husband
will acknowledge as heir?”
Primo gingerly touched the second face with a finger. Its response was to
wrinkle up its nose. This face really seems old, Primo thought, it’s as if it should
belong to a man who’s a hundred years old. I hope some good comes out of the child’s
birth.

The child Janos grew up a prince and was accepted by the entire palace
including all the servants and other lowly staff; but the king’s edict meant the child
had to grow up imprisoned within the walls of the palace and gardens, and the people
beyond knew nothing of him. The boy’s tutors, the courtiers and all others (including
the twin, looking upwards and back) told him everything they knew about the world
outside. The palace itself was large and the grounds stretched as far as he and the twin
could see when he stood in the old bell tower, the tallest structure in the palace
complex. But wherever he rode his pony, he was always followed by a guard on
horseback and they always came up against those same long walls, twice the height of
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the guard’s horse and sunk into the ground just as deeply. And the guard would look at
the boy and shake his head.
“Ah, little prince, you and I know the king your father’s order, that none
outside should ever see you or your twin. I cannot even hoist you upon my shoulders
so you can look over the walls in case someone is spying upon the palace.”
In the evenings before going to bed, Janos would pray to God that he might
one day be allowed to go outside the palace and that his twin should have a name and
be a prince too.
“Why won’t Papa accept us as we are? Why doesn’t he get rid of us if he
won’t accept us? Why can’t my brother have a name?” Janos would say while
praying.
“Papa can’t destroy his own flesh. Everyone in the palace would be shocked.
People would talk and the news would spread beyond the palace. So he suffers to
keep us alive,” the twin would say.
“So what do we do then? How can we prove we are worthy to Papa so he can
acknowledge us as heirs?”
“An opportunity will come, we have to be patient and wait. As for a name, I
can’t decide whether Jakob or Julius would be better.”
“As you say. I think Julius suits you better. Jakob – that’s the old gardener’s
name, the one who fell down the well. Are you really sure you want to be Jakob?”
“Uh, hmm, I’m not sure about that now that you remind me.”

In Janos’s twelfth year the kingdom was struck by a mysterious plague that
weakened the horses and oxen so they could not stand. Without oxen, the peasants
could not till the fields and harvest the crops. Without horses, people could not travel,
merchants could not trade and soldiers could not guard towns, villages and farms or
defend the kingdom. Famine or invasion threatened the kingdom’s future and people
were right to be afraid.
The king and his ministers consulted all the kingdom’s known experts
-scholars, alchemists, apothecaries, priests, diviners, herbalists – for a solution but
every nostrum offered by those worthies proved worthless and the animals remained
sick.
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The queen heard talk among the servants that the scullery’s great-grandmother
was still alive and had once been a seer so she ordered the girl to be brought to her in
her private room.
“Yes, my great-grandmother did have the gift of second sight,” the girl
stammered, “but I’ve never seen her practice and I don’t know if she still has the
knowledge to help.”
“I’ll send for the lady anyway,” the queen said and she arranged for a
messenger to fetch the mysterious ancestor from the maid’s home. After some weeks
the tiny aged crone was brought before the king and queen and was advised of the
reason she was needed; the old one then said she would go into a trance to commune
with the spirit-world. She closed her eyes and stayed immobile in a sitting position for
a long time. After coming out of her trance, she fixed her gaze on the king.
“One whose face is always turned towards God must travel to Novut Island to
collect the seeds of the tree that stands upon Skatif Hill there and bring the seeds to
scatter across the kingdom.”
“That’s easy!” the king cried, “we’ll send our bravest soldier to Novut Island!
Doesn’t a soldier rely on the Lord to gird his spirit with courage?”
And the king issued the order to the army to choose and send an elite soldier to
the distant island. After several months, during which time the kingdom managed to
avoid famine thanks to Primo ordering that the palace granaries be opened and food
rationed among the people, the brave soldier returned empty-handed and missing an
eye and a leg, and his mind shaken to boot. He gabbled a confused tale of
misadventure before the court and collapsed in a shivering heap. The palace servants
had to drag him away.
The scullery maid’s aged relative was called for again. The lady had become a
palace dependant so no messenger had to be sent out again. The king demanded to
know what other solution she could offer but the ancient insisted, “Only one who
always faces God should go, none other can go. You have such a person here already,
he is the one to go!”
A courtier whispered to the king. “Why not send a monk or a priest, Your
Majesty?”
“Of course!” the king said, “a holy man always faces God! We’ll send a holy
man to Novut Island straight away!” And in a few days, a monk who was said to be
the most devout man of God in the kingdom was on his way to the strange isle.
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Months passed, the palace granaries were almost depleted and Primo had ordered the
king’s treasurer to set aside funds to import food, and the monk returned with hideous
scratches on his face and body, and a sorry story of misfortune – and no seeds.
“Bring that old hag back and I’ll make her explain the meaning of all this
nonsense about Novut Island and Skatif Hill!” the king thundered while the palace
servants carried away the gibbering monk. Once again the aged crone found herself
staring at the glowering monarch.
“There’s nothing to explain except your own arrogance,” the ancient one said,
oblivious to the court’s stunned reaction, “you’ve only yourself to blame for the ruin
of two good-hearted men. Now your kingdom is out of food and your kingship is at
stake. This time I’ll choose the one to collect the seeds.” She closed her eyes,
murmured some strange words and for a moment was lost to the world. Then her eyes
suddenly opened. “Janos! There’s someone in this palace called Janos! Send him!”
The king, pale from the tongue-lashing, looked ready to faint. “Janos has
never been away from the palace before.”
“Do as I say if you want to save the kingdom!” the old woman yelled.
Primo whispered into the king’s ear. “Think of your kingdom, Your Majesty.
Send Janos if she says he must go.”
The queen leaned over to the king’s other ear. “Let Janos prove himself, he’s
no longer a child.”
Unwillingly the king agreed.

Everyone at the palace agreed that Janos would have no more luck than the
soldier and the monk in achieving his mission so it was an amazing surprise when a
few months and a nearly exhausted treasury later, Janos returned on his donkey with a
coloured chirping bird on his shoulder and an extraordinary tale about a stormy sea
voyage to Novut Island, travelling through thick forests full of giant cats, being
chased by a weird flying lizard about the size of a horse and finding the ancient tree
on Skatif Hill, the tree whose very seeds he collected and brought back to the
kingdom where they were now scattered across fields and plains where they would
germinate and grow into bushes whose leaves and berries, once eaten, would make
sick horses and oxen well again and prevent any more illness.
“But say how you reached the island with no mishap,” the king stuttered in
astonishment.
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Janos smiled. The voyage had been rough and everyone on the ship had
thrown up at least once but Janos told the captain to rely on the flight of the birds
overhead and wind directions as heavy weather obscured the stars, and the ship soon
reached Novut Island only a day later than it would have done in peaceful and clear
conditions.
“And how did you avoid the soldier’s fate of losing an eye and a leg to the
giant cats in the forests?” the queen asked.
Janos smiled again. When he rode through the forests on his donkey, he could
see the beasts moving in the dense canopy. Their yellow eyes shone so brightly in the
green darkness that the twin could spit straight into them. After several animals were
blinded and ended up crashing into the ground and dying from injuries, their fellows
learned to leave Janos and his donkey alone.
“The monk said that the flying lizard scratched and wounded him horribly.
How is it that you managed to escape the monster’s claws?” Primo asked.
Ah, the lizard! On being pursued over the plain toward Skatif Hill by that
pesky reptile while the donkey galloped as hard as it could, Janos fixed his glare on
the reptile’s eyes and hypnotized the animal to freeze. The thing stopped flying and
fell to the ground where it was quickly attacked by a pack of hungry wolves.
“And how did you collect the seeds from the tree and bring them back?” a
lady-in-waiting wanted to know.
“And how did you scatter them?” a courtier added.
Janos only had to scrutinize the behaviour of the birds flying overhead to
select those capable of eating the tree’s berries that contained the seeds and by
whistling to them he commanded them to eat. He then ordered them to lead the way
back to the kingdom, which they did to the astonishment of the captain and crew of
the ship Janos and the donkey boarded. Once the ship docked at the kingdom’s only
port, the birds were instructed to fan out and fly everywhere in the kingdom, expelling
the seeds from the digested berries in whatever way they could. In the soil the seeds
would germinate and take root, and the shrubs that would grow would provide the
remedy for the kingdom’s sick animals.
Everyone marvelled at the tale. “How did you accomplish what a soldier and a
monk couldn’t do? What assistance did you have?” the king demanded.
Janos doffed his cap. “Why, my twin brother here protected me and the
donkey from the cats and the lizard, and he was in charge of the birds. The only other
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help I’ve had was from this pretty parrot on my shoulder who kept me company by
learning how to speak our language.” And while the boy stroked and cooed to the
parrot, the twin’s nut-brown wrinkled face winked and smirked at the courtiers.
And everyone present had to admit that without the twin, Janos wouldn’t have
been able to do all that he did and save the kingdom.

As reward, Janos was allowed to travel outside the palace grounds and all
around the kingdom with the retinue expected of a prince. The queen and Primo urged
the king to recognise Janos as his heir and allow him to travel as an official
representative of the kingdom but the king cried out, “Enough! The boy is rewarded
enough!” He walked away and left the queen, Primo and Janos in an embarrassed
silence.
“Well, I’ll go and tell the palace guards that I can travel around the Kingdom
now,” Janos said and left the others. The queen burst into tears.
“Help the boy, Primo! What must he do to convince his father that he is
worthy of the crown?” she blubbered.
“Only a very great challenge which might threaten the king’s life would give
the boy the opportunity to prove himself. It would be a challenge which I hope will
never happen. If the king’s life is endangered, our whole kingdom is endangered,”
Primo said. Immediately he regretted his words as the queen burst out in a fresh round
of tears.
Unfortunately Primo’s words proved prophetic: three months after this
conversation, the king was ambushed and taken prisoner by an old enemy, Sasak,
while travelling away from the kingdom on business. The king’s retinue managed to
escape and return to the palace after trying to rescue the king and failing
ignominiously. In due time, a ransom note reached Primo and the queen.
“Whosoever would wish to save the king and secure the future of the kingdom
must come alone with neither weapon nor scriptures but instead bear the ceremonial
crown in the middle of which is inlaid the famous and mystical Aska sapphire, stolen
from our country many centuries ago,” was Sasak’s message. The queen’s face turned
red with anger. “Those barbarians only want the crown because there’s enough gold
and silver there to melt down into enough ingots to pay for an all-out war against us,
and the sapphire’s supposed to have the power of projecting the desire of whoever
looks at it,” she raged.
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“Well, that bit about the sapphire has yet to be proved in practice,” Primo said,
“but certainly if the crown were to fall into Sasak’s hands, then whatever he does with
it will doom us all.”
“We must save the king and obey Sasak’s ransom note,” the queen said, “who
will be our champion?” She ordered Primo to send out messengers throughout the
kingdom to find a champion. The imperial army refused to send an unarmed soldier
and the bishops were reluctant to send out anyone who could not take a Bible along.
Then …
“Let me go, Mother!” Janos pleaded.
“No! I can’t risk losing you too,” the queen protested.
“But no-one else will go! Please, let me go!”
Primo spoke up. “Your Majesty, you must allow the boy to go and save the
king. The child’s opportunity to prove himself worthy of the crown has come.”

“How many months have passed since I sent that ransom note off? Six, seven,
eight months perhaps? And not a word in reply,” sneered the barbarian Sasak to his
illustrious prisoner. “Now what do you think of that?”
“Primo is clever, he’ll think of something,” the king muttered. He was gaunt
and his clothes were ragged and filthy but he stared at Sasak through the bars of his
cell so hard that the barbarian had to turn away.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” Sasak said, “your Primo’s had plenty of
time to think.” At that moment a door opened at the far end of the corridor and a
messenger appeared. The boy approached his master with much bowing and all the
while keeping his eyes focused on the dirt floor. “My lord,” the boy said, “your
humble servant bears news that a young man has arrived in the quadrangle claiming
he has the ransom for the prisoner.”
“What?!”
“Lord Sasak, it is as your humble servant says.” At the subordinate’s reply, the
king crossed himself.
“Lead me to this fellow then!” Sasak, glancing at the king, followed the
messenger out of the prison and into the quadrangle where Janos was sitting in a
horse-drawn wagon, holding a box covered with a blanket. Janos himself was wearing
a cloak with a hood over his head obscuring his face.
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“Who are you? Are you here to save your king? Have your brought the
ransom?” Sasak thundered.
“I’m Janos and I’m here to save the king with the ransom you requested,”
Janos replied coolly. Setting the box on his lap, he held his hands out. “And as you
can see, I’ve come with neither weapons nor scriptures.”
“Yes, yes, I can see!” Sasak interrupted. “Now bring out the crown!”
“I want to see the king first,” Janos said, “I want to see that he’s still alive
before I hand the crown over.”
Sasak sent his boy back to the prison; a few moments later, he came out with
the king in shackles and two guards on either side of the prisoner. Janos longed to
embrace his father when he saw how thin and beaten he was but remembered the plan
and stayed put in the wagon.
“You can see the king is alive,” Sasak said, “now, let’s see the crown.”
“Come over here and you can look in the box.”
Sasak ran over to the wagon. He thrust his face over the side of the wagon and
the smell of beer and stale blood hit Janos in the face. “Open the box! Let’s see the
crown, boy!” the barbarian shouted.
“As you wish.” Janos removed the lid and tipped the box towards Sasak. The
barbarian peered inside. In the middle of the shining gold and silver garland, a brown
wizened face smirked at him. “What?!” Sasak gasped but the face cut him off: “This
is what you want, isn’t it? The power of Aska, to reflect and project your desires,
that’s what you want!” – and suddenly blue shafts of light struck Sasak in the eyes,
blinding him and causing everything in his mind to explode.
The barbarian flew backwards and landed heavily on the ground, face up,
smoke wafting up from blackened eye sockets. The guards holding the king let go of
him and drew their swords but Janos tilted the box in their direction and bolts of
bright lightning blue hit them. The messenger cried out, knelt down to one of the
guards on the ground and touched him, and he jerked and fell down over the body.
The king was startled.
“Don’t go near them, Papa!” Janos warned. He got out of the wagon and led
the king to the wagon. After getting him inside, Janos took up the reins and clicked to
the horse to leave the quadrangle and Sasak’s residence as quickly as possible before
anyone realized what had happened. The king buried himself under the blankets in the
wagon. Once they left Sasak’s country, Janos got the horse to slow down and the king
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came out of the blanket pile. “I saw everything that happened to Sasak and those
guards. How did you manage to get your twin into the crown where the sapphire
should have been?”
Janos threw his hood back and the king saw the twin’s face. “The sapphire’s
been in the crown the whole time, Papa. Have a look if you don’t believe me. Janos
and I had a look inside before Janos let Sasak look at it.”
The king lifted the lid of the box and peered inside. The sapphire was indeed
there.

When they returned to the kingdom, there followed two weeks of joyous
celebration of which the highlight was the king’s acknowledgement of Janos as his
legitimate heir and the twin, now named Julius, as co-heir. Janos was presented with a
coronet that took place at a ceremony in an amphitheatre packed with cheering
crowds. While the king and queen beamed and clapped their hands and Primo stood
close by, Janos turned around to show off Julius in a circlet of gold and the crowds
roared their approval. Julius blushed and cried tears of joy.
After the ceremony the king begged his sons’ forgiveness for not recognizing
them when they were babies.
“We forgive you, Papa,” Julius said, “had we been heirs all along, we might
never have appreciated the importance of kingship to the kingdom’s security and
future. And that’s more important than whether we are heirs or not.”
“Julius is right,” Janos said. And he embraced the king.
As to how the twins had been able to make the Aska sapphire spit blue fire
strong enough to kill people, including those who touched its direct victims, remained
a secret with both princes who never had to repeat their experiment for the crown
remained with the kingdom and no-one ever had to invoke the sapphire’s power again.

THE END