The Book Prospero's Father By Larry Freeman and ChatGPT 4.0

Chapter One:  The Eligible Bachelor

In the heart of Ushorp, a burgeoning port city ruled by the wealth of its trade, lived Rogero, the heir to a legacy of commerce and power. His father, Antonio, was the mastermind behind the thriving port, a crucial hub owned in name by Lord Ushorp, the city's mayor, but in truth controlled by Antonio's shrewd management. Rogero's world was one of logistics and tariffs, his days spent orchestrating the flow of goods to Riverton's bustling market. With carriage journeys spanning two days, the roads were guarded by a cadre of professional swordsmen and archers, their protection a costly but necessary service, payable in halves – one at the journey's start, the other upon safe arrival.

At seventeen, Rogero stood on the cusp of adulthood, his future a tapestry of expectations and unspoken rules. Noble birth brought its own rituals of marriage, a strategic game of alliances and dowries. For Rogero, marriage loomed, a decision not his to make, but a destiny crafted by his father's ambitions and the lure of wealth and status. Despite the freedoms his position afforded, the weight of obligation hung heavy on his shoulders, a gilded cage crafted from his father's desires and the unyielding customs of their world. Rogero's path was set, his will secondary to the grand design of family legacy and the intricate dance of noble politics.

In the midst of the market's clamor, Rogero's encounter with Laurella was a silent ripple. Her hooded shroud, a cloak of anonymity, made her indistinguishable from the throngs who sought to blend into the background. With a voice steady and veiled as her appearance, Laurella spoke, "She wishes to meet you, should you be willing. Her preference is to marry you, if you're inclined. She seeks a known heart, not an unknown title. Would you entertain this thought? Does it merit your consideration?"

Rogero, understanding the gravity of her words, recognized the subject as the Lord Mayor's daughter, poised on the cusp of marriageable age. The Lord Mayor's ambitions to elevate his daughter into a more illustrious union were no secret. Laurella, her attendant, was the discreet bridge between two worlds.

With a carefree smile masking his true sentiments, Rogero replied, "Laurella, convey my gratitude to her ladyship for her gracious offer. However, it's best she not invest her time in me. I'm open to explaining this personally. Let her know, in another life, perhaps, such a match would be my fervent wish. My respect for her is too profound to lead her into a future fraught with the adversity my path entails."

With a curt nod, Laurella departed, leaving Rogero to his concealed truth. Marriage was a chapter he had no intent to open. His heart was set on a different quest - a visit to the Witch of the Woods. Rumors whispered of wishes granted for a worthy gift. Tonight, with his carefully hoarded offering, Rogero would venture into the forest, seeking the witch's hut and the secrets it held.

Rogero navigated the bustling marketplace to a nondescript shop, marked only by its solitary door. Inside, the shopkeeper Eddies, a figure well-versed in the silent language of trade and intrigue, awaited him. The door shut behind Rogero, sealing their transaction from the world outside.

"Do you have it?" Rogero inquired, barely containing his eagerness.

A rare smile cracked Eddies' usually impassive demeanor. "Indeed, I do. And it's more remarkable than you can fathom. Ready to see it? It's the largest emerald I've encountered. Fit for a High King's daughter, one might say."

Eddies, with deliberate care, unveiled the gem from its shroud. The emerald's deep green brilliance danced in the candlelight, casting shadows across the shop's interior.

"This is a raw gem, a canvas for a master's touch. Be it a necklace, ring, or headdress, this stone will undoubtedly fulfill your aim," Eddies spoke, his voice a blend of professionalism and veiled curiosity.

Rogero, harboring a sense of shame for his intended use of the gem, forced a smile. "It's magnificent. I have no doubts about its efficacy. Master Eddies, your assistance is invaluable to me."

Eddies, acknowledging the transaction, hinted at future expectations. "A time may come when I'll seek your favor. Remember this day when that moment arrives."

Rogero nodded, his gesture signaling agreement. He placed his coin purse on the counter, its contents meticulously agreed upon, with a modest surplus.

Eddies, after a brief inspection of the purse, replied, "Slightly short of expectations, but it's the agreed sum. My thanks."

Securing the gem within a hidden fold of his cloak, Rogero offered a parting bow. "Your expertise is always appreciated."

With that, Rogero exited the shop, the weight of the emerald and future obligations silently accompanying him.

As Rogero returned home and settled at the dinner table, his father, Antonio, was already engrossed in his stew. The air held a formal, expectant tension. "Son, there's a matter we must discuss. I've selected a bride for you. You'll marry her when you're 18. I believe you'll be quite content with my choice."

Rogero, aware of the gravity of his father's words, responded dutifully, "Yes, father. I'm ready to discuss it whenever you're available."

"Ah, time," Antonio mused with a slight frown. "It's always fleeting. Tonight, I'm preoccupied. I have to go over the ledger. There's a significant shipment arriving tomorrow. I need to ensure we have enough wagons for it. It'll require full guard detail, and merchant Schenner will personally oversee its reception."

Rogero held his silence, knowing well his father's focus on such matters. He glanced towards his mother, whose contentment mattered more in these affairs. While his father orchestrated the business dealings, it was his mother who orchestrated the subtleties of family and marriage. Her nod was a silent communication in itself.

Yet, within Rogero, a quiet confidence simmered. Despite the arrangements being made, he harbored a belief that he would navigate his way out of this predestined path.

After dinner, with his father gone, Rogero prepared for his clandestine journey. He carefully wrapped his gift and tucked it into his cloak. Stepping out into the fading light, he pondered his reliance on the witch's powers to unravel his predicament. The sunset was hours away.

Rogero was no stranger to the forest that skirted their village. In his youth, he had roamed its depths, familiarizing himself with every turn and trail. He knew the way to the river that snaked through it, the spots favored by hunters, and the dense parts where paths vanished. Each well-trodden route was etched in his memory.

But one path, shrouded in whispers and warnings, was new to him. It led to the witch, a figure who had settled in the forest during his father's youth. Initially, her presence in Ushorp was met with fear and suspicion. As a Northerner, known for their potent magic and secretive ways, she was an outsider. The Northerners' reluctance to mingle with others only fueled the distrust. Yet, over time, the narrative shifted. From fear to respect, her reputation transformed. Unspoken but acknowledged, many in the village, now thriving with prosperity and an open port, had sought her counsel.

Now, standing at the threshold of the forbidden path, Rogero felt a surge of resolve. He inhaled deeply and stepped forward, venturing towards the witch's domain.

Venturing deeper into the forest, Rogero's path led him to a striking residence, more a mansion than a mere abode. Encased within a formidable stone wall, its open gate beckoned. The house itself stood tall, spanning two floors above the wall, adorned with glass windows and commanding towers that pierced the sky.

As he passed through the gate, Rogero found himself amidst a resplendent garden, a tapestry of vibrant flowers, aromatic herbs, and lush grass. A young woman, her Northern heritage evident in her features, was immersed in tending the garden, her hands deftly navigating through the flora. Soon, another woman, also unmistakably Northern, joined her. Their focus was on the earth's yield until the second woman's gaze met Rogero's. "Come in, come in. The attendant will assist you," she called out.

Rogero, maintaining his silence, stepped into the mansion. The hum of servants working resonated through the halls. The grandeur of the house was unexpected, from its impressive number of attendants to the elegance of its interior. The entranceway was a marvel, with floors of solid oak, walls adorned with paintings, and candles emitting a floral fragrance.

"I'll inform the Lady of your arrival. Please wait. I'll arrange an appointment shortly," announced the attendant, a young Northerner.

As she turned to leave, the witch herself appeared in the entranceway. Her presence commanded attention. "I've been expecting Rogero. Please, bring him to me immediately."

The attendant acknowledged with a nod. "I'll prepare for your meeting and guide you to her Ladyship."

Chapter Two: The Wise Lady of the Forest

Guided to the waiting room, Rogero found himself seated on a bench, a servant soon presenting him with green tea, surprisingly delightful in taste. The room was a visual feast; statues of legendary heroes adorned the center, while the walls were embellished with embroidered depictions of unfamiliar historical figures. Rogero, alone in the room, absorbed the grandeur and mystery that surrounded him.

After a considerable wait, the attendant reappeared, leading him to the witch's meeting room. Smaller and more intimate than the waiting room, the witch was already there, seated across the table. Rogero took his place opposite her.

"Welcome, Rogero. I've been anticipating your arrival. I turned others away today, knowing you would come," the witch greeted him.

Rogero observed her, young and regal in appearance, yet her Northern heritage and timeless eyes suggested a much older soul. "Are you the witch's daughter? You seem too young to be the Lady," he asked, perplexed.

"No, it's me. My curse slows my aging. I'm far older than I look and I have no daughter. You must state your wish yourself for everything to unfold correctly," she replied.

Feeling an unfamiliar nervousness, Rogero said, "I have a wish. I hope my gift is worthy. I wish to escape my predetermined fate. Next year, when I'm of marrying age, I want to choose my own time and match, and most importantly, for my father to accept this."

The Lady chuckled, "I see."

Rogero presented his precious gift, unwrapping it on the table.

The Lady's eyes lit up with admiration. "It's impressive, more beautiful and valuable than I anticipated. Very nice indeed!"

Rogero, with a mix of apprehension and hope, unwrapped the emerald from its hankerchief, placing it gently on the table under the witch's watchful gaze. "Can you help me with my wish? Is it within your power?"

The witch, her eyes betraying her true age beneath her youthful guise, carefully wrapped the gem and handed it to her attendant. Turning back to Rogero, she spoke with a tone that suggested both wisdom and limitation. "Before I can answer, you must understand the nature of my power. It's not like granting wishes at a whim. My ability lies in foresight, based on probabilities and unfolding events. Some futures are clearer than others. I can guide you towards a likely outcome, but I must withhold certain details to ensure its possibility."

Rogero, his carefree demeanor softening into understanding, nodded. "That would be very helpful. I get that certainty isn't part of the deal."

The witch closed her eyes, her face becoming a serene canvas, as if she were traversing unseen paths. "Tomorrow, a crucial shipment will arrive. Tell your father you wish to be part of its transport, to experience life beyond Ushorp."

"Your father will be taken aback but will agree, recognizing the importance of the shipment."

"In Riverton, an unexpected event awaits. Engage fully with it. Remember the name 'Rabaswalaga' - but guard it closely, any mention of it could unravel everything."

The witch, her voice fading, shared her final insight. "Your father will initially resist your choice but will eventually accept it. Your marriage will be happy if you stay true to your promises. Be cautious with commitments to your future wife and her family."

Pausing, she looked visibly drained. "I wish you well. The choice is yours to follow this path or your father's."

Rogero, curiosity piqued, pressed further. "Can you tell me more about the woman I'll meet? Will I fall in love with her?"

"I can say no more, except that your marriage will be of your own choosing," the witch replied, her voice weary.

She then left the room. The attendant returned, leading Rogero out. As he departed, the gate closed behind him, sealing off the magical encounter. Rogero walked home, his mind swirling with the witch's words and the uncertain path ahead.

Chapter Three:  The Shipment

Returning to the manor house, Rogero found his father, Antonio, already home. In their conversation, Antonio presented a small portrait of a young woman. "This is Tabalina, niece of the duke," he said. Rogero, unfamiliar with her name and face, recognized the portrait's intent to flatter.

"She's the Duke's niece?" Rogero inquired.

"Oldest daughter of his youngest brother," Antonio replied with a smile. "Not final yet. She's the Duke's favorite niece and he wants to meet you before confirming the match."

"When will his representative arrive in Ushorp?"

"In six months. If he's impressed, we'll visit the Duke."

Rogero, curious, asked, "What's the cost?"

"A title and land. Expensive, but valuable. It strengthens our position with the Lord Mayor, who proposed this match."

Rogero responded as expected, concealing his feelings. His mother, silently listening, could tell.

"It's overwhelming," Rogero said. "Where's the representative based?"

"Riverton. This shipment is part of the arrangement. Steinbrenner, orchestrating the match, might visit us."

"Why don't I accompany tomorrow's shipment to Riverton? It'll show commitment," suggested Rogero.

"You've never shown interest in transports. It's a large shipment, well-guarded. Diego leads it; you can learn from him."

"That sounds good, father. Will I meet her?"

"First, they meet you. Then, if it goes well, courtship follows. She must approve of you too," Antonio explained.

Rogero nodded. "It's a complex process. I trust your judgment."

"It's a risk for a great match. The Duke welcomes our offer. These deals have their own rewards."

"You can join me tomorrow for the shipment inspection."

Rogero stayed silent, feeling his youth replaced by burdensome responsibilities, his future hinging on uncertain outcomes.