The Story of a King

 The Boy lives in a dirty village at the base of the Mountain. He has lived there his whole life, as had his father, and his father's father, as far back as any of them could remember. There had always been weddings and funerals. There had always been harvests and plantings. There had always been boys playing in the sunshine. Life had, and seemed like it always would be the same.

One day, the Boy looks up at the Mountain that towers over the village and wonders if what his father had told him was true, that there was a great King who lives at the top of the Mountain.

If it was true, then why had nobody ever seen the King? The Boy shakes his head and walks away from the mountain, content to just live at the base of the Mountain and not worry about it.

One day, the Boy is playing with a Girl in his yard. The Girl stops what she is doing and points at the Mountain.

“Do you believe that there is a King up there?” she asks him.

The Boy shrugs his shoulders. He still doesn't know, and still doesn’t really care. “I guess so,” he says.

“I don't think there is,” she says, crossing her arms thoughtfully, “Why have we never seen him?”

The Boy never takes his eyes off of his mud pies. “Maybe he is busy taking care of the rest of the Kingdom,” said the boy.

“What Kingdom?” asks the Girl, “All I can see is the Village. There is nothing else.”

The Boy shrugs his shoulders and doesn't answer. He still doesn't care one way or the other. If there was a King, he had never bothered with the Boy, so the Boy wasn't going to bother with the King.

A New Boy comes up and asks to play with them. The Boy and the Girl gladly accept him and quickly put him to work making more mud pies.

Soon, the New Boy asks, “What do you think is on top of the Mountain?”

“Nothing,” responds the Girl.

“I don't know,” responds the Boy.

“Neither one of you believe there is a Palace and a King up there?” asks the New Boy.

The Girl shakes her head, absolutely believing that there is nothing up there. The Boy shrugs, not caring enough to have an opinion.

“I believe that the King is up there,” says the New Boy, looking wistfully at the Mountain. Nobody can see what is at the top because it is always covered by the clouds, but the New Boy is sure that there must be a shining Palace and inside that Palace, a King.

The Girl rolls her eyes. “That's ridiculous!” she says, “Have you ever seen the King?”

“No,” says the New Boy, “But my Father says there is a King up there. People have always said that.”

“Superstitions and lies,” says the Girl, tossing her mud pie onto the ground and wiping her hands on her dress.

The Boy says nothing, just continues to play in the mud.

The New Boy looks at the Girl, curious. “Why do you say that? You know the stories, of the Mighty King who drove out the Wild People so that we could live here in peace,” he says.

The Girls shakes her head. “Nobody we know was there. Nobody saw that happen. Nobody has seen the King since those stories,” she says, “I don't think that ever really happened.”

The Boy stands up and wipes his hands on his trouser legs. “It's getting dark,” he says, “lets all go home.”

The Girl nods, frightened of the thought of the Wild People. Even though she doesn't believe in them, she doesn't like the thought of them.

The three children walk away from each other, back to their own homes and hearths.

One day, the three children have grown up, and have their own jobs and their own lives. The Girl has become the Woman, the Boy has become the Bachelor, and the New Boy has become the Married Man.

These three have not really spoken to each other much since the night they all played together in the mud. The hardly had any reason to. But one day, they meet in the market place and all remember each other.

The Woman smiles at the Bachelor as he recognizes her and calls her out. The Married Man sees them talking together and comes over to say hello.

“Have you heard the rumors in the Village?” asks the Woman once they have all said hello.

“Indeed I have,” says the Bachelor.

“As have I,” says the Married Man, “Do you believe they are just rumors?”

“Of course they are, don't be stupid,” says the Woman with an air of superiority, “The King's Son, coming to the Village? Rubbish!”

“What about you sir?” asks the Married Man to the Bachelor.

The Bachelor yawns before answering. “I don't see what it's got to do with me. Even if he does come, why should I worry myself about it? It isn't as if he would come to my house,” he says.

“What about you sir?” asks the Woman to the Married Man.

“I believe he is coming,” says the Married Man, “The people in the Village have been talking about this for years.”

“You still are just as foolish as you ever were,” says the Woman rolling her eyes.

“We shall see who plays the fool one day my dear,” says the Married Man, “Good day to you both,” and with that, he bows to them and goes on his way.

The Woman turns to the Bachelor. “You still don't care, do you?” she asks.

The Bachelor shakes his head. “Why should I? All these years and never once has anything come down from the Mountain, why should it now?” he says.

“Good,” says the Woman, “I see you have some sense in you yet. Not like the silly Dreamers around here.” And with that, they nod to each other and go their own ways.

The Married Man is immediately jubilant when he hears the rumors of a Stranger in the Village. Nobody ever comes to the Village, this must be the King's Son. He hurries out of his house to the Village square, taking his wife and children with him.

Standing on a box in the very middle of the square stands a man. He is plain to see, certainly not what one would expect a Royal Prince to look like. The Married Man is a little disappointed. Perhaps this is not what he was waiting for after all.

The Stranger is quiet when he speaks, gentle. He does not shout at the crowd, yet somehow they all can hear him.

As the Married Man listens, he wonders at the Stranger for saying such strange things. He talks about his Father's Palace, about the many wonderful rooms there. He talks about how the Villagers should be kind to each other, and treat each other like they want to be treated. He talks about the children, about how they would be the first ones to get into the Palace.

The Married Man ponders all he hears, but some of it doesn't make sense to him. Why should he treat the other Villagers kindly when they have been cruel to him, as so many had. Confused, the Married Man takes his wife and children home for the night after the Stranger has left.

Back in his dirty hut, laying in his lumpy, dirty bed, the Married Man wonders if this man really was the King's Son or perhaps he was an imposter.

The Woman has heard the Stranger too, although she scoffs and makes fun of him secretly while she listens. But the things that the Stranger says lodge themselves in her heart, and she finds herself wondering about the Stranger's words far into the night as she lies alone in her dirty little bed, staring at the cobwebs on her ceiling.

The Bachelor was listening too, leaning against a post, hidden in a doorway. He listens, but does not pay much attention, because he does not really care. He is only listening because he has nothing better to do. As he lays down in his bed and wraps himself in his dirty blanket, he thinks about the crowd of people in the square and wonders if any of them will buy something at his shop the next day.

The Stranger has been standing in the square every day for three months. Some of the Villager's are becoming tired of him. Some are leaving, bored. Some begin to hate the words that he says because it is sometimes hard to understand and goes against the Traditions of the Village.

But some of the People still adore him, and they come out everyday to listen to what he has to say, no matter how strange it is.

Among those who still come is the Married Man and his wife. One of his sons has gone away from them, not wanting to listen to the Stranger. The Married Man is sure that this must be the King's Son, the one he has been waiting for all his life.

The Woman also stands in the crowd everyday, listening to the Stranger teach. At first she said she was only coming for a good laugh, so she could have someone to scoff at, but soon, she found herself captivated by his words. Unable to tear herself away, she had pushed further and further into the crowd, just so she could be close to him.

One day, while the Stranger is teaching, he looks up at the sky and sighs.

“I won't be with you much longer,” he says. Everyone is hanging on his every word. What could this mean? Is he going somewhere?

“I'm going to go back to my Father's home soon, in the Palace,” he says. Some in the crowd gasp, amazed that he is calling himself the Prince. Some of the older folks in the crowd look at each other in horror and indignation. They all believe that one day the King will send someone to get the faithful citizens of the Village and bring them into the Palace, but surely this dirty, quiet, gentle man is not the Mighty King's Son, The one who supposedly rode with his Father into the War to set them free of the Wild People, the one who was supposed to be great and mighty? This could not be him, and claiming to be such a great man should really be punished.

Some of the older folks push out of the crowd and hurry away to plan a way to get the Stranger out of the Village.

The Stranger watches them with sad eyes. “Very soon, I will have to leave you all,” he says, “But don't despair. I'll come back for you, one day, after I have prepared rooms for you in the Palace. But only if you believe in me will I take you Home with me.”

The Married Man nods. He believes that the man is who he says he is. He is no longer just a Stranger in his eyes, how can he be a stranger if he is the King's Son? The Village is his.

The Woman stares at the man in wonder. She wants so badly to believe what he says, that there is a Palace, that it is as beautiful as he says, that there is a King who even still is watching over their little Village, protecting them from the Wild People all their lives. She wants to believe it so badly that she almost can. But there is still one little tiny nagging doubt, the seed that she had tended so carefully, the seed of Distrust. Can she trust him?

That night, when the crowd disperses, the Woman shoves her way past the other people to stand in front of the Stranger.

She isn't sure why, but she bows before him. Perhaps because she at least respects his teachings.

“Sir, please, may I speak with you?” she asks quietly.

The man, tired, ragged, hungry, smiles gently at the Woman. “What is it my beloved?” he asks.

The way in which he addresses her catches the woman off guard. No man has ever called her beloved before. Many men have shown their affection to her in other ways, why shouldn't they, as much as she throws herself at them, but never has a man showed her this kind of love, where he calls her something such as beloved with so much feeling behind the words that she can actually believe it. And the way that he looks at her, it's like the way of one who would give everything so that she can be happy.

She is suddenly at a loss for words. “Sir, I mean, that is, I, er,” she stammers, unable to find what she means to say.

The Stranger takes her face in his hands and looks into her eyes. She very slowly raises her eyes from the earth beneath her to look into his. She gasps at what she sees there.

She sees love. True love. The kind of love that knows no bounds. She sees mercy. She sees compassion. She sees kindness. And she sees deep, bitter sorrow. Suddenly, her question is answered. She knows who he is. He is no stranger among the Villagers. He is their Prince, the Son of the Good and Just King.

Falling to her knees, the Woman begins to cry. All this time, she has denied this man's existence. She has taught other people to deny it.

“Can you ever forgive me, my Prince?” she begs, crying.

The Stranger takes her hands, he lifts her up again, he hugs her, he wipes away her tears. “Do not cry anymore my beloved,” he says gently, “You are wholly and completely forgiven.”

She looks at him, although she can barely see him in the fading light. Her heart is suddenly light. The heavy burden she did not realize she had been carrying all these years is finally gone. She is free.

“Go, tell others about me,” says the Stranger, “I will build you a room in the Palace. I will come back for you one day. Tell others about the goodness of the King while you wait for me to return.”

Laughing and crying, the Woman says, “I will tell others, all the days of my life! I will wait for you my Prince!”

The Stranger smiles. “You have been set free my beloved,” he says, “You are no longer a part of this tiny, dirty Village. You must live here, and work here for a while longer, but I will come for you.”

The Woman nods her head, unable to speak from joy. She rushes home not seeing the darkness around her for the light that is in her heart.

The crowd is assembled once more. The Married Man stands alone. His wife has gone away, not wanting to listen to the Stranger anymore. But the Married Man comes anyway. He has been abandoned by his whole family, but he knows that he must follow the Stranger always, even if he is doing it alone.

The Woman stands in the crowd, her cloak wrapped tightly around her against the cold, listening breathlessly to the words of her Prince. She closes her eyes, just happy to be near him.

She does not see the crowd of people rushing towards them, carrying their pitchforks, their axes, their torches. She does not see the pained expression on her Prince's face when he sees them coming.

She hears them though. She opens her eyes in surprise and turns to look. The Married Man sees them too, and tries to block their way, but they shove him to the ground and march past.

The Oldest Man in the Village comes toward the Stranger, holding his torch high above his head.

“We have decided that you cannot call yourself the King's Son. Nobody from the Village can do that, you are a blasphemer!” yells the Oldest Man.

The Stranger says nothing.

“And furthermore,” continues the Oldest Man, his voice rising, “We don't want you poisoning the mind of our young ones!”

The Stranger says nothing.

“And beyond that,” says the Oldest Man, now shouting, “You are trying to take away the authority of the Elders here! And you want to change our customs and rituals! No man can do that!”

The Stranger says nothing.

Becoming angry, because he feels like he is shouting at a post, the Oldest Man strikes the Stranger, knocking him to the dusty ground.

“Dammit man!” shouts the Oldest Man, “Haven't you got anything to say for yourself? Who are you?”

The Stranger gets to his feet and says gently, “I have told you many times who I am.”

The Oldest Man is angrier still, and strikes the Stranger into the dust again. “Are you the King's Son?” he screams.

“You say it,” says the Stranger, calmly as ever.

Furious, the Oldest Man gives the command that the Stranger should be seized. Some of the men grab the Stranger and tie him up, ignoring the screams and protests from the rest of the crowd.

The Woman and the Married Man follow along with the rest of the Stranger's faithful listeners as the Angry Mob drags the Stranger through the dirty streets, right to the edge of the Village.

The Oldest Man finds himself a box, and he stands up on it, raising his arms over his head to get the crowd's attention.

“We don't want him here anymore!” he shouts. Booing and yelling are intermingled with crying.

“We must cast him out of the Village and let the Wild People destroy him!” shouts the Oldest Man. The crowd yells and sobs.

“Beat him, and take him away from here!” yells the Oldest Man.

The Angry Mob shoves in on the Stranger, tearing his clothes, ripping his hair out, beating him with anything they can find, clubs, sticks, their own fists.

Some of the faithful try and protect the Stranger, but the Angry Mob shoves them away. The Stranger does not try and defend himself, but just lies on the ground, taking the severe beating.

When the Angry Mob backs away, the gentle, kind Stranger is no longer recognizable. His nose is broken, his eyes are black, his face is swollen, he is bleeding, his arms and legs are crooked.

When the Woman catches a glimpse of her beloved Prince, she screams and begins to sob loudly. The Married Man gasps, and tears begin to flow down his cheeks.

The Angry Mob chooses a few strong men to drag the Stranger out of the Village and leave him in a distant field. So the Strongest Man and his two sons take the Stranger out, as far as they dared.

When the Strongest Man sees a dark storm brewing over the Mountain, he looks at the Stranger's bruised and bleeding body and realizes that he really must the Prince. He lays the man down and takes off his hat.

“What have I done?” he whispers, tears in his eyes, “You really are the Prince.”

He can see that the Stranger is whispering something, so he puts his ear close to his mouth to listen.

“Please Father, don't be angry at them. They had no idea what crime they had committed,” he whispers.

The Strongest Man looks up at the dark sky, and realizes that the sun is going down. Any time now and the hills and fields would be swarming with the Wild People, and they would tear apart anyone who was not safely in the Village.

As a last act of kindness, perhaps to attempt to atone for the terrible crime he had helped commit, the Strongest Man takes his knife out of belt to kill the Stranger before the Wild People can get to him, but when he looks down, the Stranger is already dead.

So the Strongest Man and his sons hurry back to the Village, crying all the way, knowing that they had committed a terrible crime against the King.

In the morning, once the sun has risen and it is safe to leave the Village, the Woman hurries to the gates and out into the surrounding fields to where she knows the body of her Prince is lying.

To her surprise, when she gets there, she discovers that, yes the tall grass is crushed down as if a man had been laid there, but the Prince is gone.

She begins to cry, knowing that the Wild People have taken his body and destroyed it. Now she can never bury him properly.

A sound behind her startles her. Two young boys, dressed in clean white clothes are standing behind her, smiling. They each carry a letter bag slung over their shoulders.

“Why are you crying?” asks the First Boy.

“Because the Prince's body has been stolen!”exclaims the Woman, wondering how the boys managed to keep their clothes so clean.

“Body? Gone?” asks the Second Boy, “What are you talking about? He is in alive silly Woman!”

The Woman looks back and forth between the boy's innocent faces, looking for hints of a joke. “You aren't kidding, are you?” she asks.

“No ma'am,” says the First Boy, “He can't die. The Royal Family cannot die.”

The Woman becomes very excited. Without even thinking to thank the boys, she runs back to the Village to find the others that had listened to the Stranger and were now crying over his death.

She finds the Married Man, standing in the square, as he had done so many times before. He is looking at the spot where the Stranger had always stood, his arms crossed over his chest, deep in thought.

“You'll never guess what I just saw!” exclaims the Woman, excited.

The Married Man looks up at her, surprised. “What?” he asks.

“There were two Messengers, from the Palace,” she says, breathlessly, “They were at the place were they left His body. They told me that he is still alive, that the Royal Family cannot die!”

The Married Man wants so badly to believe her, but he is not sure that he can. “But what about the Wild People? And his injuries? He would have died, are you sure you were in the right place?” he asks.

It is at that moment that the Bachelor joins them. “Have you heard the talk?” he asks sleepily, “Apparently, they killed the man who was teaching here and threw him outside of the Village. Isn't that some news?”

“But he isn't dead!” exclaims the Woman, “He can't be!”

The Bachelor looks at her, surprised. “Why would you, of all people, say something so ridiculous, my dear Woman?” he asks.

The Woman sighs, trying to keep her patience. “Because, the Palace Messengers told me he is alive!”

The Married Man strokes his beard thoughtfully. “I don't know,” he says, “I know he is the Prince, but everything is against him still being alive. The man who took him out of the Village says he saw him die, he knows he was dead, or would have finished him off right then.”

“But you knew him!” says the Woman, “You knew how wonderful he was! He said he was going to prepare rooms for us in the Palace!”

“Yes, he did,” says the Married Man, “But still, I saw them beat him almost to death. And then he was out in the cold, surrounded by the Wild Men, bleeding and bruised.”

The Bachelor yawns loudly. “I don't see why you two are still arguing about this,” he says, “Either he is alive or he is dead, what difference does it make?”

“All the difference!” exclaims the Woman.

“I think I am going to go home,”says the Married Man, “I'm sorry, I know it's harsh, but he is gone.” He places his hand on the Woman's shoulder and smiles at her before he nods his head at the Bachelor and leaves.

The Bachelor shakes his head slowly. “Insane, the both of you,” he says, “Just let things be my dear, you used to be so sensible about things. I can't imagine what can have gotten you all worked up and emotional over a man who you hardly knew. People die all the time, it doesn't have to affect us.”

The Woman pities the Bachelor. “If only you could understand. I want to be worked up and emotional about him,” she says softly, “I love him with everything in me. He is alive. You will see.”

And with that, she nods her farewell and leaves to go to her own home. The Bachelor, seeing he is left standing alone in the square, yawns and ambles lazily towards his own home to take a nap.

The Married Man is almost home when he meets a man along the road. The sun is behind the man's back, so the Married Man cannot see his face.

“Hello sir!” calls the Married Man.

“Hello!” calls the other man back. They stop near each other, but the sun is still behind the other man's back, so the Married Man cannot see his face.

“There seems to have been some sort of skirmish in the Village, what has been going on?” asks the other man.

The Married Man laughs. “Where have you been living? In a hole?” he asks, “Haven't you heard? The Prince has been here and the Villager's have killed him.”

“You believe it was the Prince?” asks the other man.

“Yes, with all my heart,” says the Married Man, “It's so terrible that they killed him.”

“Don't you recognize me?” asks the other man.

“I can't quite see you, the sun is-” but the Married man does not finish his sentence as the other man steps into clear view.

The Stranger stands before him, alive and well. His nose is no longer broken, his face no longer swollen. The scars from where some of the people had cut his arms were the only visible signs that he had ever been harmed.

The Married Man's mouth drops open and he is unable to speak. The Stranger laughs.

“Do you recognize me, my beloved?” he asks.

Dropping to his knees, the Married Man says, “Yes my Prince. I'm sorry I doubted you.”

“You are forgiven my beloved,” replies the Stranger, helping the Married Man up, “Go and tell everyone that I am alive. I have defeated Death, and I am going back to the Palace to prepare rooms for those who believe that in me.”

“Until you come back for me,” says the Married Man, “I will never stop telling the other Villagers about you.”

The Stranger smiles. “I have to go now, but I will return for the Faithful,” he says, “Goodbye my beloved.”

The Married Man bows his head and closes his eyes in reverence for the Prince.

The Married man is now the Widower. The Woman is the Old Maid. The Bachelor is still the Bachelor. Time has passed. The Widower and the Old Maid never stopped telling the Villagers about the Prince. And those people who listened and believed the story told others.

The Village still has some who do not believe, who scoff, as the Old Maid used to. There are those who believe merely because they were told, as the Widower had. And there are those who heard, but don't really care one way or the other, as the Bachelor.

The Village has continued as it always has. With wedding and funerals. Harvests and Plantings. Boys playing in the sunshine. And it is on a day, an average day, like any other, that the Widower lays in his bed, coughing and unable to get up from sickness, and the Old Maid sits in her chair on her porch, cold and dying, and the Bachelor lies lazily on his bed, unwilling to get up, that they hear the trumpets.

The Widower sits up as fast as he can, he knows that sound can only mean one thing.

The Old Maid gets creakily up out of her chair and looks into the sky. She knows what it means.

The Bachelor is startled out of his nap. Fear clutches his heart, he knows what the sound is for.

All eyes go towards the Mountain top, where at last the clouds part, revealing the beautiful Palace. The gold adorning the outer walls glimmers in the sunshine, the door shines and everyone can see that it is made of pearls. The brilliance of it makes it difficult to look at in the bright shining light.

But then, the Villagers realize the light is not coming from the sun. It's brilliance has faded away. Instead, it comes from within the Palace, where the King sits.

The Prince comes down the Mountain. All can see him. All know who he is.

He comes to the Widower's house and opens the door. The Widower suddenly forgets he is ill and steps out of his bed to take the outstretched hand of the Prince, whom had once been called Stranger. The Widower feels younger, stronger, and so, with the Prince, comes out of the house.

The Prince comes to the Old Maid's house too. She sees him coming from far away. In her excitement, she forgets that she is supposed to be dying, and rushes into the Prince's outstretched arms. She feels like a Girl again. She follows the Prince, her Prince, the one she had been waiting for back up the Mountain. Others come too, the Faithful who had waited for him, knowing he would come back for them.

There are some who are left in the Village though. The Bachelor watches with a sinking heart as the Old Maid and the Widower follow the Prince back up the Mountain. The Prince had not come to the Bachelor, and when he had rushed towards him, crying and begging to go up to the Palace too, the Prince had not even looked his way once.

The Villagers who are left behind huddle together in the square, afraid and alone. They all realize then what they had given up when they had not listened to the Wise Ones who had told them of the Prince.

In the Palace, the Faithful are brought inside. Words cannot describe the beauty they see around them. They feel warm, safe, protected, loved.

Their eyes are filled with the beauty, the cleanness of it all. But once they come to the Throne Room, they forget everything. Now, their eyes are filled with the King.

He is Wonderful and Fierce, Brave and Kind, Loving and Just, Merciful and Compassionate all at the same time.

Falling to their knees, the Faithful know they are not worthy to be in his presence. They are all dirty, from living in the Village. They are not kind like he is, not merciful like he is, not loving like he is, and they can feel all their faults showing.

“Father,” says the Prince, “These are mine, they followed after me when I went to them.”

“Then rise, my Faithful Ones,” says the King in his mighty voice, “Welcome Home.”

The Faithful are surprised to find the rags they had been wearing have become clean, white, robes, fit for royalty. Their foreheads are adorned with crowns, varying in size and shape.

The Woman knows the somewhere in this great Palace, there is a room, prepared just for her, the Prince had told her there would be, but just now, she is not interested in it. She just wants to sit in the presence of the King.

She bows her head and closes her eyes in respect. She knows that nothing in her is worthy to be even near such majesty.

She feels a hand on her shoulder. She looks up into the eyes of the King. He looks lovingly at her.

“Welcome home my Beloved Daughter,” he whispers to her, “I have been waiting so long to bring you home.”

She wraps her arms around his knees as a child would. Everything in her loves him so much that she feels like she might explode.

The Man cannot bring himself to look away from the majesty of the King. The greatness of him makes the Man feel small. He feels his faults on display before one so powerful. He closes his eyes in reverence of the great ruler.

A voice near his ear makes him look up to see the King standing over him.

“My Son, you are home, at last,” says the King, his voice filled with the deep love he feels for all his Faithful Ones.

“I am not worthy my King,” says the Man, ashamed.

“But I am,” says the King, “I have forgiven you, you are set free.”

The Man looks into the face of the King and is swept away my the deep and unthinkable Love in his eyes. He forgets his life in the Village. He forgets his struggles and hardships. He forgets everything but the King.

The Man buries his face in the King's beard and wraps his arms around him. The King envelops him in his robes, hugging him tightly.

The Man can feel that he is loved, and he can feel himself loving back.

He is Home.

Cheers!