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circle of golden dolphins. The baby prince wore no crown, but his golden cuirass, kilt, and royal purple cloak were an exact duplicate of Poseidon’s, in miniature.
    Below, thousands of cheering Atlanteans—soldiers, nobility, members of the priesthood, and common folk alike—had gathered for this moment, the presentation of the new crown prince. Scattered among the crowds were dolphins, clusters of tiny fairies, naiads, merfolk, and nymphs. From every ocean, well-wishers had gathered to welcome Poseidon’s firstborn son and heir.
    Shouts of congratulations and approval rose like crashing surf around Poseidon as he lifted his year-old son from his mother’s arms. Gently, Poseidon raised the chubby toddler high over his head, and the massed throngs went wild with joy. Their high king and queen had produced a healthy male heir, another Poseidon-In-Waiting, securing the long line of Atlantean kings.
    For a full year, from the time of his birth until today, the precious baby prince had been sheltered in his mother’s quarters, kept from the public eye, and had not been named. This would be his official recognition when his royal uncles, his grandparents, aunts and uncles, and the full force of the military and the courts would swear their fealty to him. Likewise, allies, such as the fairy nation, would recognize Poseidon’s heir and pledge again their support for the treaty that bound their kingdoms in friendship.
    The naming of a new crown prince might come only once in centuries and the kingdom-wide celebration would go on for weeks. During that time, Poseidon would provide free food, drink, new clothing, and vouchers for the coming year’s taxes to every citizen. Students would be on holiday from their classes, convicted prisoners pardoned, and debts forgiven.
    Contests, games of athletic prowess, musical and academic competitions would be held in the temples of learning and sports arenas, offering opportunities for young men and women to prove themselves worthy of recognition. Those who excelled might be awarded citizenship or even raised to the rank of nobility. Priests and priestesses would hold prayer services of thanksgiving daily, and gifts would be exchanged between families and friends.
    In honor of the young prince, every child in the kingdom would receive special presents, and every home would echo with laughter and the sound of feasting. But most of all, the ties of kinship and loyalty to Atlantis would tighten, as every family considered the promise of new life and possibilities.
    “I give you my beloved son, Prince Perseus!” Morgan shouted. “Long may he reign!”
     
    “But not for eons!” came back the roar of hundreds of thousands.
    The queen looked anxiously at her little one, fearful that the tumult would frighten him, but the little prince laughed, kicked his legs, and waved the small golden trident clutched tightly in his right hand.
    “He likes it,” his sister Princess Danu cried. “You’re a brave boy, aren’t you, Perseus?”
    Again the king raised his son for all to admire and then, smiling, gave him over to the waiting arms of the queen. Then, Morgan took his small daughter’s hand and led her to the edge of the balcony. “And to you I present our daughter, Princess Danu! It is our wish that you give her the same loyalty and support you offer our son!”
    Again the cheers rose above the thud of soldiers’ tridents striking the marble pavement and the clash of swords against breastplates. Princess Danu, once human but now Atlantean, had long won the hearts and minds of her people with her keen mind and courage. That she showed promise of becoming a powerful healer only endeared her to them more.
    “Princess Danu!” the onlookers cried. “Long live our princess!”
    Still others took up the queen’s name, and the roar of “Queen Rhiannon!” echoed down the columned avenues and rose above the temples and palaces. Morgan looked back at his wife and encircled her shoulder with a