The King and the Jester

...........................................The King and the Jester........................................


“I can see fine, your Majesty,” said the Jester to the King. Somewhere in the distance, the gentle skitter of feet echoed softly.

“Are you certain?”

“Certain.”

A hush had fallen over the onlookers. The marble columns had never stood so still.

“And your blindfold has been tied properly? It is neither loose nor torn?”

“Neither. It has been tied sufficiently.” The small man near the back hung his head low. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The King paced fervently back and forth along the stone floor, at all times keeping an eye upon the Jester. His footsteps echoed softly in the hush of the room, setting a rhythm for the swirl of his crimson cape. It shuddered with each stride, creating a soft torrent of red. Several times the King unconsciously reached for the hilt of his emerald blade, yet each time, he stayed his hand. A flicker of movement played within the shadows.

“You see perfectly.”

“Not perfectly, my lord, but better than most.” His utterance had fallen to stone, matched only by the King’s frozen words.

“I am a just man but I will not suffer lies within my kingdom.” He stopped pacing directly in front of his throne. “Do not push me, Jester. If this is one of your quips, the time for it is over.”

“My lord, I have told you once that I can see; I have told you twice that I can see. I have nothing more to say.”

The King sighed and his looming figure returned to rest upon his emerald throne. He reached into a small pouch that hung from his side. “Tell me Jester, can you see how many stones I hold within my hand?”

“Perfectly, your Majesty.”

The King glared down, four stones resting within his hand.

“You hold three.”

The King let out a deep sigh. “And tell me Jester, can you see the power that I hold in my other hand?” His hand had once again moved to his hilt and his voice had begun to rise. “Can you see the expanse of my kingdom? Can you see the worry that these onlookers hold for you? Can you see the fate you have chosen?”

For the first time, the Jester smiled. “I can.”

“Please, your majesty,” started someone from the back of the room, “He is mad; have pity upon him-“ The court began to mutter, the one voice no longer alone. The hush had been broken.

And in the confusion, something strange began to happen. The small demons that had been lurking within the shadows began to crawl into the crowd. They clambered up the robes and gowns of the onlookers and began to whisper faint words into the ears of all that listened. The crowd, unphased by these strange creatures, continued till a cacophony of sound drowned out any single voice.

And all the while, the creatures whispered.

The King rose from his throne. “Silence!” he called but received none. In the single moment of opportunity, the creatures had taken control. They scampered around the room, some flying, some slithering, till all found a resting place. The room was a wash with strange aberrations. Yet no one seemed to notice.

A great feathered lizard with the heads of an eagle, a wolf and a snake had come to rest upon the King’s shoulder, while a small ape, with angelic wings and a serpents tail, had already perched itself beside the Jester’s head. Of all the creatures, the ape talked most fervently, at times almost screeching in the Jester’s ear.

“Good King, I can see all that you ask. I can see. I can see.” The Jester started to laugh as the King began to stride the great length of the room towards him.

“Enough! Silence your tongue Jester or I shall!”

“Perhaps it’s you that cannot see,” he continued. The ape proceeded in whispering into his ear and the Jester continued to laughed. “I know. I know. The view from the throne is cloudy, can’t you see?”

The King continued to stride towards the Jester, his hand clenched upon the hilt of his sword.

“Can’t you see? Can’t you see that the power that you hold in your hands is less than the sum of your pitiful four stones? Can’t you see that-”

“Silence!” screamed the King as his red cape fluttered with his steps quickened. “Silence!” But the Jester went on.

“Can’t you see that the expanse of your kingdom is less than the width of this room? Can’t you see that these people look upon you with pity, not fear?”

“Fool!”

“Can’t you see your own fate?”

The feathered lizard that sat upon the King’s shoulder let out a sharp cry.

With one fluid motion, the King’s emerald blade cut cleanly through both Jester and ape. A silence fell over the room. No man or woman so much as breathed. In that single moment, all the creatures had disappeared.

The Jester’s torn blindfold fluttered to the floor, followed shortly by the soft thump of his body. The King dropped his head low and his body began to shudder. In the distance, bells played softly. A figure made his way from the back and began to cast open the great wooden shutters that lined the room.

Daylight flooded the throne room, casting aside the onlookers like the dust they were. The stone beneath their feet began to crumble as the walls washed away in the river of light.

The torches, the lamps, the decorative hangings - everything clattered to the ground like leaves, till even the daylight itself had faded away. In all directions there was only darkness. All that remained were the King and the Jester, frozen upon the ruby carpet.

The King removed his crimson cape and placed it over the Jester. For what may have been minutes or days, the King kneeled beside the Jester’s corpse. Still the bells rang. The continued to grow and grow till the scene was lost within their cascade of sound. There was nothing but the King, the Jester, the crimson carpet and the overwhelming sound of the bells.

Then, the bells stopped.

Slowly the room began to reappear, rebuilt out of the darkness. Everything started to construct itself, emerging from the dredges of the twisted reality. And for a moment, the room appeared as it had before. Yet it was different. The room had changed. The four stone walls had constructed a prison rather than a throne room. Where once great windows had been, there were only thin slits that poured stale daylight. The onlookers had been replaced with ghosts, while the great emerald throne was little more than a rusted chair. And the vast array of decorations that had once lined the walls were now no more than steal trinkets, hopelessly small and meaningless.

And upon the floor lay not the Jester, but the skeleton of the King’s own son, wrapped in a tattered cloth. It grinned up at the King. And for the second time, a small ape, with feathered wings and a devil’s tail, emerged from the shadows. This time however, it perched itself upon the King’s shoulder.

“Can you see?” it whispered. “Can you see?”