The first thing he was aware of was a thudding. It was soft, regular and insistent. He thought: What is that sound? And then he didn't think any more for a while.

The next thing he was aware of was a thudding. It was fair, regular and insistent. He thought: What is that sound? He tried to move, and couldn't move. He fell still and he didn't think any more for a while.

The third thing he was aware of was a thudding. It was deep, regular and insistent. He thought: It sounds like a drum. And then he woke up.

'Drumming. I heard drumming,' he said. His voice was thick, his mouth dry. He looked up and saw that he was in the stables.

'Yes, of course,' he said, because that was where he usually was. He wasn't usually lying down in them, however.

He was in Icicle's stall. He looked around and saw Icicle standing close by. She wasn't moving, just standing, breathing deeply. He stood up. That was hard. He stumbled as he found his feet and reached out to the horse to steady himself. She moved slightly but was not startled.

'Icicle?' he said. She flicked an ear but didn't turn as she normally would, pleased to hear his voice. 'Icicle, girl.' Icicle let out an enormous sigh and slowly turned her head to him. 'What's wrong?' he asked, reaching out and stroking her face. She snuffled his hand, shivered and then bent her head to take some hay from the manger. He checked her over and found nothing the matter. Reassured, he let himself out of the stall and went to check on the other horses. All of them were quiet and still and strange.

He walked out into the yard. It was full of people, all walking slowly, as if in a daze. The sun was hot above them but the light was unusual. He looked up and saw that beyond the castle walls a monstrous thicket of briars had appeared. They had not been there earlier and yet...they looked ages old. The thicket was dead and brittle, thick and impenetrable.

'What the...' he saw Sir Jacques stumbling out of the kennels a small way off and he called out to him:

'Master!' The man turned to him, his face all confusion. It cleared a little at the sight of him.

'Tristan. What's happening?' the old knight asked as he walked over to him.

Tristan looked around.

'I don't know,' he said.

'Come, I think it's best we–'

The sound of trumpets interrupted Sir Jacques' words and the two men looked to the castle.

'Come on,' said Sir Jacques and he crossed the yard as quickly as he could. Tristan followed and felt his legs loosen as he moved.

They found the castle in much confusion. Servants and courtiers alike were stumbling in and out of rooms, all of them wearing bemusement on their faces. Sir Jacques grabbed the nearest man and asked him:

'What's happening?'

The man looked terrified of the question.

'I-I-I-I d-d-don't know, Sir,' the man stuttered. Sir Jacques let go of him, with an impatient growl and pushed his way into the throne room. Again, Tristan followed.

The crowd was thicker here. Voices clamoured over each other as everyone struggled to be heard. Sir Jacques forced his way forwards but an enormous yell stilled everyone.

'SILENCE!'

Everyone looked forwards. The king stood on the dais, in front of his throne. His queen sat behind him. Her face was a mask.

'Silence!' the king shouted again, despite the quiet. 'Can't you see, I need silence?'

There was an uncertain pause and Sir Jacques took the opportunity to move closer the king.

'My lord,' he said with a brisk bow.

'Jacques,' the king said, relief cracking his voice. 'Oh Jacques, thank God it's you. Come here, come here man!'

Not wanting to miss out on an explanation, Tristan hurried in the knight's footsteps. The king glanced at him but did not bid him move away. He bent his head toward Sir Jacques and whispered:

'Tell me. What has happened?'

Sir Jacques leaned back in surprise.

'You mean you don't know?'

'Should I?' asked the king.

Sir Jacques shot a questioning look at Tristan but Tristan could only shrug.

'My lord. I can't explain what has happened. I don't know. I simply... woke up.'

The king frowned. He fidgeted with a sleeve.

'You too?' he said. 'And you, squire?' he asked Tristan.

Tristan jumped at being addressed.

'Me?'

'Yes! You man! Who else?'

'I woke up in the stables. When I came out into the yard I saw...' Tristan trailed off, thinking about the ancient briars that rose high above the walls.

'Well? What did you see? Spit it out!'

'Briars, my lord. Briars, such as I've never seen before. Towering above the castle walls.'

The king raised his eyebrows at this. He turned to his queen.

'Briars, Marianne.'

'I heard,' she said.

'Where's Aurora?' the king asked.

'Aurora?' the queen said.

'Yes, Aurora! Our daughter. Where is she?'

'My lord, how can I answer that? I've been here since we woke.'

The trumpets flared, louder than before, and stopped as the doors to the throne room opened. There, framed in them, was the girl they spoke of – the light of the kingdom.

'She walks as beauty...' Tristan muttered as Aurora walked in, people falling to the side and opening up a passage for her. The whole room was so focussed on the princess that none noticed the figure walking behind her.

When she was halfway across the room, Aurora made a low curtsey.

'My lord,' she said.

'Rise,' said the king and he stepped down from the dais and went to take her in his arms.

Tristan heard a thudding; hard, regular and insistent and he realised that it was his heart. 'Aurora,' he whispered, a voice for him alone, and yet she heard it. She looked at him, over her father's shoulder and smiled faintly.

Tristan watched her as she pulled away from her father and stepped aside. Now the court noticed the man. He stood tall and handsome, covered in red plated armour.

'Father, may I introduce Prince Guillaume,' Aurora said.

The man knelt before the king and bowed his head.

'My lord, it is a great honour to come into your presence.'

'Prince Guillaume, is it? Of what kingdom? Who's your father?'

The prince stood once more.

'My kingdom is that of Gascony, and my father is King Phillipe.'

'Gascony? Phillipe? Well, this is a riddle! I've never heard of him.'

Prince Guillaume sighed.

'It is a sad story, my lord. You may want to hear it in private.'

The king looked unconvinced.

'How did you come to be here?'

'With respect, my lord. I really think this story would be best told in private.'

The king paused for a moment and then nodded.

'Jacques. Relieve him of his weapons,' he said.

Sir Jacques did as he was bid. When the prince was disarmed the king gestured for him to follow.

'Come along,' he said. 'You too, Aurora. Jacques! Bring the squire with you.'

Tristan followed the royal family, their guest and his master and as they exited the throne room he heard the voices begin to clamour once more.

The king led them to his solar where he collapsed on a chair. He bid no one else sit and so they stood around him. Tristan's heart thudded as he felt a hand brush his and he looked up to see Aurora standing beside him.

'Hello,' she mouthed. He could mouth nothing back, only smile stupidly.

'So. Come on then, start your story!' The king commanded.

Prince Guillaume moved to the centre of the gathering. He walked with studied grace and stood in a powerful stance.

'My lord, the story starts with the birth of your daughter.'

'My daughter?'

'Yes. You will recall the events of her christening?'

The king shuddered.

'How could I forget?'

Prince Guillaume smiled.

'Quite. Well, you know that part of the story. Now tell me this. What happened on her sixteenth birthday?'

'Her sixteenth birth – well that's today! We were getting ready for the feast, weren't we dear?' he turned to the queen who nodded, even as her face grew pale.

'Yes,' she said. 'Yes. I think I know how the rest of this story goes. Tell me, Prince. What day is this?'

'What day—' began the king.

'Tell me!' the queen insisted.

Prince Guillaume bowed his head and spoke.

'It is her birthday. Her one hundred and sixteenth birthday.'

Tristan gasped and turned to Aurora. She nodded at him. Her face was set hard – a grim look that was unnatural on her.

'It's true,' she said. 'I know it is.'

'But... how?' asked the king.

Aurora laughed then and it wasn't the joyful laugh Tristan remembered.

'A spindle, of course,' she said.

'Impossible,' said the queen.

Aurora shook her head.

'Did you think you could get around magic by burning spindles?' she asked and her voice was heavy with scorn. 'Did you think she wouldn't find me?'

'But the spell was only meant for you. How...'

'How did you fall foul of it too?' Aurora walked over to her mother. 'Are you upset? Did you want to watch me sleep? Did you want to live on ever after, and leave me to wake up here, alone?'

Her mother stepped away from her.

'Aurora, no I—'

'What?' Aurora asked.

'Aurora,' Tristan whispered. She heard him again and she softened at the sound of his voice.

'It's been a hundred years. And as decreed, we've been woken by a prince's kiss.' She smiled at Guillaume.

'It was nothing,' he said.

'I'm sure,' Aurora muttered.

'It is a great gift,' said the king. He stood and embraced the prince. 'We are in your debt. Name what you will, and you shall have it.'

The prince shook his head and gently pushed the king away.

'I wish for nothing. It is enough that I have helped you wake. Now it is my duty to return to my kingdom and help my father.'

'Oh, but you must want something!' the king cried. 'We can't let him leave empty handed, can we?'

'No,' said the queen. 'That we can't.'

'How about Aurora?' asked the king. 'She is the light of our kingdom. You will never find a more worthy wife. Will she not be ample reward for the service you have given us?'

Tristan felt his heart stop thudding. He looked at Aurora but she would not look back. That hard look was on her face again. He looked at the prince who appeared to be considering this offer very carefully.

'She is very beautiful,' he said. 'And she's of a good age... Yes. Yes, I think she will do very nicely,' he said, smiling at the king.

'Good!' the king shouted. 'That settles it! What a glorious day. Isn't it all just marvellous?'

'Yes,' said Aurora. 'Just marvellous.'

She looked at Tristan then.

'Wake up,' she whispered to him. ‘Please.’