|
|
patrick
@ dualravens.com |
-A Short Story I wrote for my Freshman Composition Class, age 18. I think I was reading a lot of Stephen Lawhead around this time. I got an A on it however, so all was well. And got hit on by some not unattractive girls in this class after I read some other stuff I wrote for it. It took me several years for me to realize this fact, though, so I didn't take advantage of the opportunity. Cluelessness was, and maybe still is (I'm not sure), a way of life for me.-
Many ages ago, when the dew of creation was still fresh on the earth,
King Gerwyd of Greswyr ruled a sun-filled land, whose day has long since past
into the ocean depths. He ruled
this land with a sense of justice not seen before or since.
Kind, merciful, wise, and strong, King Gerwyd filled the entire earth
with the peace that his rule brought. Evil
was temporarily nonexistent, and strife and pain were but rumors from the aged.
This king possessed all that he desired and beyond, for the riches of the
land were under his control, and yet he lacked one vital possession, the ability
to love.
One day, long after fear and anger were battled and destroyed, the king
sat in his lavish chambers
pondering the few mysteries that remained to him.
In these quiet times his keen mind reveled, for it offered the king a
rare time of solitude and intense thinking.
Many of the mysteries that the world possessed were finally understood
due to the time the king had spent. His
thought for the day was the mystery of religion, why were some so devoted, even
unto death, for a god they could not see or hear?
No matter how much he pondered this thought he could not come up with an
answer. After many hours of
solitude the king's chief steward came to announce the midday meal.
As the king moved from his chambers to his exquisite dining arena, he
happened to spy two lovers sitting near the castle walls, underneath a citrus
tree, holding hands and gazing into each others eyes.
A sensation hit him that he had never felt before.
A deep longing for something unknown, something that his heart told him
he was lacking. Turning away from
the path, he called to his steward.
"Bring me my advisors. I
shall see them in the throne room!"
Without a comment the steward walked quickly away to heed his master's
call. For obvious reasons it did
not take long for the advisors to respond to the king's beckoning. Almost before the king arrived himself, the top advisors had
gathered to hear the question that would be raised. Staring into the depths of the mighty room the king offered
his question to all those who would hear.
"Tell me, you men who claim to be so wise, what exactly is the
nature of love?"
The advisors, expecting a question on taxation or social concerns, were
dumbstruck. Never before had the
king posed suchan odd question. And
the facts were that the advisors had no idea how to answer.
The chief advisor replied tactfully.
"What exactly do you mean, O King, surely you know that we are not
qualified to counsel you on the ways of love.
We are men of wisdom, of knowledge, not of emotion.
Your needs would be better met by a bard or a woman."
Though meant to appease the king this answer, instead, served only to
infuriate him. His face filled with
rage.
"I sought for answers, and instead I receive foolishness," he
roared, " Leave me now, and do not return until you possess the answers
which I seek!"
With that King Gerwyd stormed out of the throne room. The advisors stared blankly at each other and began to
discuss their rather bleak situation. Unable
to reach an answer the advisors decided to each go their own way, and hope
through their travels to reach an answer. They
were never heard from again.
Many weeks later the king, unable to find an answer to his question, and
tired of waiting for his advisors to return, sent a beckon across the entire
land. He sought wise men from
around the world to help him finally conquer this last mystery.
They responded, and in great numbers, for the king was known to be very
generous to those with whom he was pleased.
Never before in this worlds-realm had such a collection of intelligence
and wisdom gathered. Meeting with
them individually the king sought his solution.
Yet not one of them provided
an answer that he deemed sufficient. After
many years of this the king fell into poor spirits and his kingdom began to
crumble. The kingdom of peace fell
apart due to this king's quest for the meaning of love.
Evil, war, and sickness once again returned to the grand kingdom that
once was. King Gerwyd lost his
kingly splendor, becoming more and more haggardly and irritable. He no longer
cared about anything else but the answer to his long posed question.
One day, when the kingdom was far along in its deterioration, a jester
arrived at the castle. Claiming he
was on a journey of great length, he begged a night's respite from the elements,
and in return he would entertain the court of the king. Desperate for some kind of change in the king's attitude, the
guards welcomed the jester and provided him with the nicest guest facilities the
castle had to offer. After an
afternoon of the finest food, the finest bathing facilities, and being provided
with the finest clothes the stewards could find, the jester was escorted to the
mighty dining hall. When he arrived
the court of the king was just finishing the evening meal.
Silence pervaded the hall, and the gloom could be felt in the air.
The chief steward announced the guest.
"From a land far away, a man who has performed before the greatest
of kings, and who seeks to give us this evening pleasure and laughter."
At this point the jester somersaulted through the vast doorways, and
continued until he was at the very feet of the king.
He stood up straight and saluted.
"So you seek to entertain me, do you?"
The king queried. "You
will find that I am very hard to please, and yet, after years of melancholy I
will hear your tales, and watch your antics.
Entertain me jester. I am in
great need of it."
The jester stepped back and gave a deep bow.
"I shall try, O king."
What followed amazed all who saw. To
this day people speak of the show that the jester performed on this evening.
A voice of an angel, the wit of a god, the acrobatic ability of a monkey,
this jester entertained the court of King Gerwyd like no court had ever been
entertained, either before or since. The
gloom that pervaded the hall was lifted, and a feeling of joy and happiness once
again filled the hall as laughter echoed off the walls.
Slowly, however, towards the end of the evening, a silence began to
spread around the room as each individual noticed the long forgotten smile of
the great king of Greswyr. As the
jester ended his last act, the king noticed the stares.
"It truly has been a long time,"
he boomed, "I have not laughed like this in many, many years, as the
faces of those around me serve as a reminder.
I thank you jester for your gift that you have given me.
In return I will give you whatever you desire, up to half my kingdom.
Tell me your name so that I may address you with the respect that you
deserve, for you are more than a mere jester."
"There are those who call me Sachoke," replied the jester.
"As for my reward, I am eager neither for riches or fame, power or
control. I seek only to lift the
spirits of the downtrodden. But as you insist on a reward, I will concede a
desire of mine. Your greatest gift
to me, O King, would be to let me answer your deepest question."
The king looked quizzically around the hall.
Mutters and whispers filled the room.
"A truly unusual request indeed," answered the King.
"More of a gift to me than you, it appears.
Yet I will, as I promised, grant you this request"
The jester merely nodded and smiled.
"It does not take a long while to discover what my deepest question
is, dear Sachoke. The question that I will pose before you this evening, or
early morning rather, has stumped the wisest men of the land.
I have found that those who purport to be wise are actually fools, now I
will see if one who claims to be a fool is actually wise.
What, O jester, exactly is the nature of love?"
A serious look came over the jester's face as he took in the meaning of
the question. The eerie silence of
the jester's contemplation filled everyone with uneasiness.
For ten minutes the jester stared into the eyes of the great monarch,
seemingly searching King Gerwyd's eternal soul.
The king broke the silence when he could no longer suffer the scrutiny.
"What then is your answer, jester.
Do you mock my question with your silence?
Or are you, along with all
others, baffled by this question. Answer
me now."
"My King," replied
the jester in a solemn tone, "it is not for the lack of an answer that I do
not reply. Your question is of a
more serious nature than even you can fathom.
What is the nature of love? O
King, that you would of asked me another question.
"My question stands." stated the king
"Very well. I ask, however, another gift from your bounty, O
King."
"What would that be, jester?"
inquired the king.
"I ask for time, O Lord. A
year, but a day, to deliver my response."
"Your wish is granted. I
have waited this long for an answer, surely another year would not be too much
longer. You have your time. I
shall see you in a year, but a day."
"I thank you, mighty King,"
declared Sachoke, "Your time will not be wasted.
Think not on this subject until this time.
Rule your kingdom, guide your people.
The answer you seek will be
yours. I shall return."
With that the jester turned and walked stately by the astonished
onlookers. Without looking right or
left, he marched out the grand entrance. Those
who were present, slowly followed the jester, silently, but instead of leaving
the castle entirely, as did the jester, they went to their individual quarters.
The king merely sighed, rose from his throne, and also went to his
chambers to sleep. It was almost
dawn, and all were tired.
It was a late rising day following the celebration. People rose from their beds with headaches from over
celebrating the night before. A
dreary realization hit them as they went back to their menial duties. The jester is gone, they remembered, the kingdom is still
crumbling. The months past, wars and battles raged throughout the kingdom.
The enemy had many years to build strength, however, so things were not
looking well for the armies of King Gerwyd.
He went back to running the now decrepit affairs of his kingdom as the
jester had bidden, soon forgetting the question which had so long possessed his
life.
One morning, long after the celebration of the jester, the closed gates
rumbled with the sound of someone pounding on them. A guard on the walls yelled
to the gatekeeper.
"A messenger from the army! Open
the gates!"
The gates quickly swung open. Riding
in on a black charger sat a lean man, looking tired unto death, struggling to
stay on the gasping horse. Jumping
down from the horse, he handed the reins
to a nearby groom, and stumbled towards a nearby guard.
"Take me to the king, quickly!
I have news from the wars!"
As the king was summoned, the messenger was fed and given drink.
It did not take long, however, for the king to arrive at the throne room.
Once settled in his sovereign chair, the messenger was ushered in.
Though cleansed and fed, the fatigue was still quite evident on his face.
The king noticed this and ordered a chair to be brought in.
The messenger thanked the king but told him it was not necessary.
The pleasantries ended, the matter of the messenger's errand was bidden
by the king.
"Tell me, my faithful servant, what has brought you this far from
the front lines? What is the
message that you have to deliver to your king?
What of the news from the front?"
"O King, I have ridden four straight days and nights to deliver this
message. I have ended the lives of two fine beasts from riding them into
exhaustion. I deliver this straight
from the hands of your battlechief, Fezwik the Bold."
Unfolding a scroll hidden beneath his mantle the messenger stepped up to
the foot of the throne and handed the king the note.
King Greswyr leaned over and accepted the note from this loyal courier.
Leaning back he perused the scroll's message.
A scowl came over his face as he began to massage his temples.
For a few moments the king stayed in this posture, deep in thought.
Rolling the scroll back up, the king stared at the faces around him.
"Let no man say that loyal service is not rewarded in my
kingdom," the king said,
speaking to the messenger. "You
will rest tonight, be fed from the finest of my stocks, drink from the best of
my vineyards, and will sleep in the king's own chambers.
This is my command."
The messenger nodded solemnly, for he understood what was in the
note, as well as being tired unto death. He
was escorted from the throne room by a nearby servant.
The king rose from his throne and spoke to the remaining stewards.
"Ready my finest horse. Prepare
my armor and weapons. Announce to
my personal guard to ready themselves for battle.
I shall leave for the front this very afternoon."
The castle exploded in
activity. Provisions were made
ready, odds and ends were taken care of. Long
stored weaponry was removed from the armory and polished to a magnificent shine.
The king's elite guardsmen were informed of their errand and readied
themselves for the travail ahead of them. Late
in the afternoon the king and his men set off for the front, leaving the king's
chief minister in charge of the castle. A
small garrison of soldiers was also
left behind, so as to provide protection for the castle and the queen. The band set off without fanfare, for theirs was a most
formidable of errands. Wives
kissed their husbands goodbye, possibly for the last time they knew.
Children scurried around the leaving warriors, hugging their fathers, not
understanding why they were leaving at all.
The party set off on the north road, to meet up with the army in the
field.
After a week of traveling the small band of fierce warriors and the king
finally arrived at the battle area. The
din of mortal combat could be heard from miles around.
The clashing steel, the thunder of charging horses, the screams of dying
men, filled the air. The king
stared at the battle from a nearby hill, bewildered by what had become of his
kingdom. It was nightfall on the eighth day since the king had left
before he was able to meet with his main battlechief, Fezwik the Bold.
No pleasantries were exchanged, for there was nothing at all to be
pleasant about.
"The wars go badly my King."
Fezwik stated. "I had
hoped to wait until a decisive victory to send word, but things have taken a
frightful turn for the worst. I
felt your presence was needed to bolster the men.
The battle you saw today was the third this week.
We were able to hold them off, but we suffered great casualties.
I fear that we are unable to hold this line any longer."
"I thank you for your fine service, my battlechief," declared
King Gerwyd. " I have ignored
the affairs of my kingdom too long, and this is the result.
Announce to the warriors that we will fall back to a more defensible
line. I shall meet with the Five, tomorrow evening after all is
settled. I will once again act as
King, and lead my people to victory. Tell
the men not to fear, for in going back, we will be going forward.
Let tonight be a night for mourning, but come next week all will be
celebrating! So says the
King."
The king's order was made known to all who could hear. Though initially taken with anger and sorrow, the order did
bring comfort, for the men knew that their king had arrived, and he would truly
lead them to victory, as he had done so many years earlier.
The camp picked up the next morning, and moved to the edge of a forest,
two miles south of their previous line. Located
on a hill, with open land to the north, this was an ideal spot to hold, and
recuperate. The Five, a group of
the Greswyr's finest military leaders and warriors,
met with King Gerwyd that evening in his tent.
"The land we occupy now is nigh well impregnable," declared the
youngest of the Five, Malgryg, "I say that we organize small, well-planned
attacks to keep them on their guard, prevent reinforcements, and ruin their
confidence. These attacks will bide
us time until our own reinforcements arrive from the east, without causing major
casualties on our side."
"I see that the youngest among us is also the most cautious, a very
rare combination," stated Rhon, a battle scarred veteran of much earlier
campaigns. "They surely
would not be expecting an all out attack
so soon after a major retreat. My
men are up to the fight, eager to reclaim the land they passed over on this day.
I say we surprise the oncoming army
and send them back to the pit from where they come.
"I see," said the King. "It
seems that we will not come to an easy decision this evening."
Turning towards the steward the king called, "Steward, bring us some
food and wine." Once again
returning to the faces of the noble warriors surrounding him the king said,
"We have heard the two extremes, do nothing, and do it all.
Is there none among you who have a more balanced opinion.
What say you, Tarnllynk the Wise? I
shall hear the thoughts that are burning in your furrowed brow."
"O King, ordinarily I would counsel for caution in this
circumstance," stated Tarnllynk, while Rhon merely grunted in disapproval.
"However," he said glancing irritably at Rhon, "in this
case I might advise a more speedy, all out reaction. For within the miles that we have lost are villages of your
people. I do not envy their current
situation, for obvious reasons."
"I must agree with Tarn's advice, my liege," put in Fezwik.
"Though before we commit to any actual force, might I recommend
sending out a scouting party to a sampling of these villages, to see how they
fare. If our enemies are of noble
character, than there is nothing to fear. In
which case to commit forces now would be folly."
"Once again I stand before the presence of wise men," the king
declared. "Such a scouting
party be raised. I shall lead. We
shall leave on the morrow."
"My King," added Branswynn, the king's champion and personal
guard, "I must raise my concerns about you leading this band.
The territory will be infested with the enemy, let me lead this scouting
party instead, while you stay here and formulate the plans for attack."
"Surely you do not think me a fat, lazy king, my dear Branswynn.
I too have held a sword in my day, as you well may remember."
The Five smiled at this comment, for the king was once world renown for
his battle prowess, not one man had ever bested him in the arts of physical
combat. "They
are my people," continued the King, " I shall see with my own eyes how
they fare. Though
to ease your conscience you may come with me.
Gather up the three finest young warriors in the band, as well as the
five fastest horses. I wish to
leave before daybreak."
The group of five men left before daybreak, as the king had desired.
The land did teem with enemy soldiers, as Branswynn predicted.
Never before had the king seen such a massing of soldiers against him.
His heart broke at the sight.
Because of the amassing of the enemy, it took nearly eight hours to reach
the first village, even though it was only two miles from the army's stand.
Upon coming into view of the village, the jaws of the five men dropped.
A more desolate scene could not be described.
The stench that they thought was rotting meat, was much, much worse when
they saw what it actually was. Dead
bodies were strewn across the streets, rotting where they lay.
Even the most battle hardened lost their stomach upon this sight.
"My people!" the King cried at the top of his lungs, "What
has happened to my people? What
kind of fiend would do this? How
could I have allowed such a thing to happen in my once serene land?
I shall not stop until this outrage has been revenged!
No one will stop the fury of this king!"
He ordered the men to dig graves for the dead, saying that though they
died in a shameful way, they will be buried in dignity.
He himself scouted the entire village for some sign, any sign, of why
this had happened, for he was so noble himself that he could not even fathom
someone acting out of such pure hatred. While
walking through a once fine dwelling, though now a burned out husk, he heard a
slight sound from beneath the singed floorboards.
Tearing them up revealed a dug out hole, with a small child inside.
No more than two years old, the child was black from soot and ash.
So tired and thirsty that he could not utter more than a shrill whimper,
the child stared up at the king with a blank, open expression.
The king reached down and picked the child up, tears welling up in his
eyes. "Though you were born of
another, you will be raised as my own son, with all the joys that your early
life has lacked. I shall love you
as my own." He then gently
poured some water from his flask into the dehydrated child's mouth, not
realizing what he had just uttered.
Branswynn entered the dwelling silently, noticing the scene, and hearing
the vow spoken by the king. King
Gerwyd, after a few moments, noticed another presence in the hut and turned
around. Branswynn nodded towards
the king, signifying that their task was done, and reached to take the child
from the king's arms. The king merely shook his head, and walked out the doorway,
the child still held tightly against him.
Walking towards the tied-up horses the king called to the four around
him. "I have seen enough
misery for one day. If just this one village is like this than that would be
enough of an excuse to destroy our enemy, let alone any others we may find.
Let us leave now and go back to our army.
I have seen enough, my decision is made."
They sneaked back into camp during the dead of night, each returning to
their own tent. The king set up a crib of sorts in his tent, and commanded a
steward to watch the little child at all times, and to meet its every need.
The next morning the king called the Five back to his tent.
He described the evil that he had seen, and had Branswynn do the same. The mighty warriors listened to this with a wildly burning
fire beginning to take control of their hearts.
After a few moments of outcries against this most ignoble of deeds, the
king lifted his hand, signifying his desire to speak. The eyes of those in attendance quickly fell on the king.
"Obviously we cannot wait any longer to withhold justice from these
people," the king said quietly. "They deserve death, and death they will
receive. Rhon was correct in saying
that they are not prepared for an attack. Their
troops our spread across the countryside, spreading mayhem among the
defenseless. These cowardly jackals
will not escape my fury. We shall
attack with our full body of warriors on the day past next."
"Sire, I have been expecting this decision from you," declared
Fezwik. "I believe that I have
devised a plan which will strengthen our chances of success.
If, as you say, the main body of warriors is spread out, then that leaves
the command post relatively unmanned, though still in possession of more men
than we. I say that we split our
warriors into six different bodies, with each one of us the head of a group.
We will attack early in the afternoon following their midday meal.
I believe that if we..."
A messenger came storming into the tent, cutting off Fezwik's speech.
He handed the king a small scroll and left as quickly as he arrived.
The king, looking as amazed at this occurrence as the other five around
him, unrolled the scroll and read its contents.
"Oh, no, not this," the king screamed, leaping up. "My
castle has been attacked and conquered, the garrison has been defeated and the
queen is captured!"
"We shall leave immediately to return to the castle!"
stated Fezwik.
"No," countered the King, "the plans for attack will be
kept. Branswynn, I, and ten others
shall return to the castle to see what can be done.
I command that this attack will take place on the day past next.
Adjust your plans according to our absence, Fezwik. You must conquer and
destroy these fiends before all else. Worry
not about the queen, that is my concern alone."
With that the king left the tent, with Branswynn not far behind.
The remaining Five heeded the kings bidding and continued their planning
for the upcoming battle. They
talked far into the early morning.
It was a long journey back to the castle.
Though moving at a brisk pace, with very little time for rest, the
distance did not seem to get any closer. Resting
only for the horses sake, the men forgot all about their own needs, focusing
entirely on the task ahead of them. The
king and Branswynn rode together, surrounded on each side by the remaining
warriors. Two warriors were
constantly rotated as scouts for the party.
After a few hours of riding in silence on the fourth day of their
journey, the king quietly muttered,
"I have failed my kingly duties. My
queen is captured, my land has been despoiled, my people killed."
"What are you saying, O King?" questioned Branswynn.
"If any man questions your sovereignty, they will meet with the
blade of my sword. Are you to blame
for the evil of others? Are you to
be held responsible for the lack of nobility in the hearts of some men?
Not at all. You are noble
and righteous, O King, the babe will attest to that. Lift up your heart, for what is evil that it can interfere
with courage of a righteous man? We
are behind you, O King. Not because
of your position, but because of your character.
I follow a noble king, for only he is worthy of my loyal service."
"Your words speak to my heart, my friend.
Truly you are unequaled in your courage and nobility.
May I continue to earn the right to be called your king and retain your
loyal service." He
suddenly stopped and yelled to the surrounding warriors, "Onward
to battle, my men! Let no one stop
us. Victory is ours this day!"
With that the king pulled out his sword and spurred his horse to two legs. "Victory will be ours this day!" he said as he galloped down the trail towards the castle. The men could but cheer on their king and follow him to glory.
The band was met outside the castle by an army of over seven-hundred men.
The king stared at this group from a hillside but a moment, and then
continued on his way. His eyes ablaze with fury, his mind completely focused on the
task at hand, King Gerwyd of Greswyr stormed into the midst of the battlehost.
With the twelve other men behind him, the king swept through the ranks,
killing as he went. A god could not have contained the king at this moment.
The bite of his sword was felt by scores.
Branswynn, true to his name as king's champion, also was on fire, unable
to be closed in upon without receiving the strength of a champions sword through
one's breast. The screams of battle
went up, pools of collecting blood were formed, and still not one of the king's
men had fallen. The seven hundred quickly dwindled under the fierceness of the
king and his men. Each swing of a
sword brought death, each scream of the terrible combatants brought terror to
the hearts of the would be
conquerors. Under the swift, sure
sword, victory was rung. The king
did not pause after his all out victory, riding quickly to see how the queen was
managing. So intent was he on
rescuing the queen that he did not see one of the last of the foes riding up to
attack, but from a distance Branswynn did.
Riding as fast as the horse could take him, the mighty champion screamed
at the king to watch out. Just as
the spear was about to be thrown into the king's noble heart, Branswynn arrived,
but just a little too late. The
champion leaped from his horse into the body of the enemy, but as he did, the
spear pierced his side. Retaining
enough strength through sheer will, Branswynn struck the foe down with his
sword, thereby killing the last of the enemy.
The king noticed the fight, but to late to make a difference in the
occurrence. His stopped his horse
and returned to where his champion lay bleeding.
"Branswynn, what has happened?
You have been injured, my friend, injured to save my life. What can I do
to help?"
"O king," Branswynn gasped, "I fear my wound is mortal.
I gave my life to save my king, my friend, a more noble death could not
be found. I thank you, my liege,
for letting me serve you, letting me be near you.
Remember me and my service, that is all I ask.
May your reign be true and
long lasting. God save the
King!" With
that last statement Branswynn breathed his last breath and left this
worlds-realm. The king cried in
anguish over his loss.
Learning of the king's presence in the field outside the castle, the
queen ran quickly to him. He looked
up from his position of mourning and saw her beautiful form leaving the castle
gates, he too started running towards his mate.
"My Queen, are you safe?" the king cried as soon as they were
within yelling distance. "Did
those fiends harm you in any way? I
was so worried about you."
"They did not, my king, I am safe and well," she declared as
she ran into his open arms. "I was so worried about you as well, I have
long forgotten what it is to be without you."
"And I too have forgotten, my queen.
Let us never depart from each other again.
I need your compassion, your life, in mine.
I have too long ignored our relationship, let us be as newlyweds
again."
As the king once again looked at the body of his fallen friend, tears
once again filled his eyes, but this time the queen was there to comfort him and
to hold his hand. The king ordered a nearby stableboy to take the body of
Branswynn to be prepared for a grand funeral.
Hand in hand, the king and queen walked backed to the castle, he finally
noticing the weariness that his body was feeling.
He barely returned to his bed when he collapsed in utter exhaustion.
The ten other warriors who had followed the king also went straight to
their quarters, feeling no more desires except that of sleep.
The queen pulled the covers up around the king's sleeping body, kissed
her noble husband on the cheek, and went to prepare a feast for the warriors
return, for they would be famished when they awoke.
As the individual warriors awoke, they were given the finest clothes, and
escorted to the grand dining hall. A
great feast was laid out for them, and as they were quite famished, they cheered
at the sight. The feast was eaten in silence, however, for they remembered
Branswynn, and their brethren still in the field of battle.
The king entered through his stately private entrance, and as he did, the
eight warriors that were in attendance, stood up as one, and saluted their king.
He stared at them for a moment and saluted back.
They did not sit down until he did.
About halfway through the feast, at the nudging of the queen, the king
stood up, wine chalice in hand. "I
wish to present a toast," the king declared.
"A toast to my noble men, both fallen and living.
A toast to my men fighting for me in the field of battle.
And a toast to my champion, Branswynn, may his name live forever in our
hearts!"
Those present stood at the king's toast and cheered, not noticing the
figure who had silently entered through the back door.
"My king, I have returned, a year, but a day, since my last
visit," the figure, still shrouded in the shadows proclaimed.
"Who is that?" the king exclaimed.
"Come out from the shadows so that I may see your face."
The figure moved silently from the shadow's hiding presence into the
light. All who saw remembered him
to be the jester, of seemingly so long ago.
"Ahhh, the jester with whom I was so pleased," the king said.
"How fare you?"
"I am doing well, my king."
"It seems that this day was set aside for an answer to my question.
Let me see, what was the question? Ah,
yes. Jester, you have had your
year, but a day, can you now answer the question I pose before you?
What exactly is the nature of love?
Are you now prepared to respond?"
"My ability to respond was never in doubt, O King, but instead it
was your ability to understand. Yes,
my king, the timing is now right, do you yet seek the answer to your
question?"
"I most surely do, oh foolish jester, why would I have asked if I no
longer sought the answer."
"Very well, my king, I will answer.
What exactly is the nature of love?
Love is born out of need, O king. We
all have a need to be loved and to love in return.
Yet that is a simplified answer, for your question cannot be answered in
the vagueness that language offers. What
is love, O king? Love is the
feeling of affection when you cried for your people, when you held the child in
your trembling arms. Love is the
friendship built out of devotion and respect between you and your champion,
Branswynn. His ultimate example of this love is the giving of himself
for you, O king. That is truly
love. Love is also the need for
companionship and romance between a man and a woman, as so recently remembered
by your majesty. Those are the
nature of Love. You were made blind
in your riches and peace, so that you no longer felt you needed the love of
others. For all needs there is a
source of comfort and filling. So
to is this true for love. That is
my answer, O king."
The king sat dumbfounded, absorbing the truths of what had just been
said. As he sat pondering this
answer another question was raised in his mind.
"You say, my dear Sachoke, that all needs have a source for being
met, if we all need love, where is the source for ultimate fulfillment?"
As the jester made move to answer, the king lifted his hand, asking for
silence.
"I truly have been blind to the nature of love.
I could not see the affection of the people, the friends around me, nor
the love of my wife. I began to
doubt these loves, as a blind man doubts the existence of color.
In this blindness I lost all perspective, becoming lost in a world of my
own creation. I see these previous
loves now. Through my losses I have truly gained.
“Dear
jester, years before your visit, when all was well in my kingdom, before my
quest for love took me down the path of destruction, I used to think.
Every morning for several hours I would do this.
One morning my mind turned to the thought of religion, why someone would
follow a god whom they could not see or hear.
In bringing your answer concerning love, I believe another mystery is
solved. You say there is a source of all needs, a way of ultimate
fulfillment. God is the ultimate
fulfillment of the need for love. Without
needs of his own, he can freely give to those who are in need, as a rich man can
freely give from his wallet to the poor, so can God give to us.
In my blindness I could not see, but now my eyes are open.
May the Source be the King of this king."
The jester nodded, smiled, and added this last comment, "O king, you
are able to finally understand my answer. I
could not have received a better gift. I
also bring news from the battles. Your army has succeeded.
The great foe is vanquished. Your
kingdom is restored to you, O king. Rule
it well, for you are now under an even more mighty king.
Fare well, o king, May God's blessing fall upon you all the days of your
life."
With that the jester saluted and left the room.
Cheers went up from around the castle, celebrating the news of the army's
victory. The king, hand in hand with the queen, stood, smiled and
cheered as well, not for the victory, but for his discovery of the nature of
love. So ends the tale of King
Gerwyd of Greswyr, believe it who will.
|
|
