The King Idiot and His Curse
December 27th 2008 08:28
“Wearing a patch would maketh me look weak, mi lady.”
“But, mi lord, it would not maketh you look weak, it would maketh you look rugged and handsome…” She paused before she finished, hesitant to add the final touch.
“And whole.”
“Whole!” He yelled. His one good eye filled with rage, the damaged eye, unable to show any emotion, just stared blankly at her, while the other eye emanated a seething fury.
“Am I not whole! Do I not commandeer a boat! Am I not King of the Idiots! Do I not have a summer home! Am I not the purveyor of pornography! Am I not the bootlegger of white gold! Whole?
We have a different definition of “Whole,” she said.
He was pacing back and forth in the room, his feet stomping loudly on the floor, his arms flailing as he shouted, “whole.”
He stopped pacing and looked out his bedroom window. “I am whole” he whispered.
“But you have no soul.”
He turned around to face her and rested his hands behind him on the window sill. He leaned back and said, “Who needs a soul, when I have all my things?”
“Your eye, the window to your soul, is blackened. And so is your heart. When I look into your eyes I can see the pain and darkness. You can’t hide it, you never could. Your eyes are always cold. There’s a void in your soul that emanates through them. That’s why I left you.”
“You wicked wench! You’re fitting yourself to walk the plank, be gone or suffer the consequences!”
“If you don’t care that you have no soul, and you have all of these things that you think make a soul, then why do you still install windows? Is it not a vain attempt to replace the window to your very own soul?”
“Get out!” he screamed. His eyes, both of them, actually, had glazed over with cold fury.
She glared at him.
“Stop looking at me” he yelled.
“What? Are you jealous of my two good eyes?” she shouted. Now her eyes were glowing with rage, also. “I henceforth curse thee,” she spat.
“You curse me? He spoke the words like they were an unknown foreign language to him.
“Yes, I do. You will one day meet a soulful maiden, and wish to make her your betrothed. She will accept, but alas! In due time, she will find out your secrets. She will discover that you have no soul. Then, she will pilfer your kingdom, taking half. The army will find out your secrets, as well, and they will storm the gates while you sleep in your chambers, and haul you off to the prison, where you will live out your remaining days. They will publicly metaphorically blacken your other eye, so everyone will see that surely, you have no soul.”
And with that, she turned on her heel and left.
King Idiot stood in awe of what he’d just heard, trying to digest it all. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.
He didn’t know what to think, didn’t know how to react. He needed a drink.
He decided to summon his page.
“Yes, your Highness, how may I serve you?” asked Page Steve.
“Fetch me a bottle of rum.”
“Spiced rum, white rum, dark rum, which rum, sir?”
King Idiot’s eyes narrowed. “Just set your tights in motion and get me a friggin bottle of rum.”
Page Steve scurried off, still unsure which rum to fetch. Did his master wish to have the spiced rum he liked so much, or would he prefer the white rum? He didn’t say, and alas, he sounded so cross! He prayed he brought the right rum…
Meanwhile, King Idiot sat back in his chambers. That wench, he thought. What impunity! How dare she curse him? What was this business about him installing windows so he could get his soul back? Rubbish. I do not long for a soul, he thought. I can see my soul with my one good eye, and I can count it with my two good hands.
Where was that Page with his rum?
As if on cue, Page Steve entered the king’s chambers with the rum. He picked the spice rum, because his master liked that one best.
“Here’s your spiced rum, sir.”
“Spiced rum? I wanted white rum. Spiced rum makes me impotent.
“I don’t see any ladies, master.”
“Why, you insolent servant! How dare you make such an impudent statement?”
“At least I’m impudent and not impotent” Page Steve muttered under his breath.
“I heard that! One more utterance like that and you’ll be walking the plank. Now, pour that rum into a goblet, the gold one. I can have just one glass while you fetch the white rum.”
Page Steve poured the spiced rum into a goblet and handed it to his master. He gulped it down and slammed the goblet on the table. It made a loud thud.
Page Steve ran off to fetch the white rum. He was quicker this time, because he didn’t have to wonder which rum his master wanted, so he didn’t get sidetracked like last time. He ran like a little rat, scurrying quickly and furtively. Master Kurtz hates it when he keeps him waiting. This last thought made him scurry along even quicker.
When he returned to the king’s chambers he noticed him tearing apart a leg of lamb, ripping the soft meat to shreds with his jagged teeth, his soulless eye glazed over with gluttony.
Oh, thank God, he’s eating. He can’t beat me if he’s busy eating, and the food soothes his temper, thought Page Steve.
“Ahh, page Steve, you’ve brought me the white rum. Sit, sit, have a cup,” he said, benevolently, his evil eye still glazed over and focused on the lamb.
Page Steve ran his hand through his dark curly hair. “You seem happy, sir.”
He watched the idiot tear apart the lamb with another bite. He looked up at Page Steve with his soulless eye. “I never feel so alive, so sated, and so whole, as when I devour a lamb.” Lamb’s blood dripped down his chin and fell onto the tabletop leaving a burgundy red circle that seeped into the table cloth, growing wider and wider.
Page Steve shuddered.
“Are you cold, Page?” Here, have a bite of lamb, it will soothe your soul. He laughed manically, as he threw a piece of lamb at Page Steve.
Page Steve looked at the lamb which had been thrown at him, and took a swill of rum, instead.
The idiot narrowed his eyes, “Eat the lamb, Page.”
“I’m not hungry, master Kurtz.”
“I don’t care. Eat it” he glared at him.
Page Steve picked up the piece of lamb. He just held it awkwardly, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to eat it, but he was scared. King Idiot watched him intently. His soulless eye first fixed on the lamb, but then it moved up to meet Page Steve’s eyes. It bore into him. Steve saw his master’s lips turn into a thin line. It was all he could do to not avert his eyes. He didn’t want to appear weak. His heart started to beat rapidly. They stared at one another. Finally, he looked down at the lamb in his hand and bit into it.
“Now, was that so hard?” he asked in a triumphant tone.
Page Steve chewed the lamb and tasted the metallic flavor of its blood.
“I propose a toast. To lambs and their slaughter, and the glory it brings the soul.” King Idiot laughed even more maniacally this time.
“I’m confused, master. Why do you keep speaking of souls tonight?”
“Aye, that wench told me that I have no soul,” he laughed. But I said to her, “I have my boat, my summer home, my pornography trade, and my white gold business. Is that not enough? And what idiot has need for a soul, anyway? Am I not King Idiot?”
“Yes, you are, Your Highness. King Idiot cannot have a soul. If he had a soul, he could not be King Idiot.”
“Yes, yes, I’d have to abdicate my throne and give up all the idiocy that comes with it. What nonsense!” He rolled his eyes.
“What was the curse?”
“That I would one day wish to take a wife, and that she’d find out I have no soul, and take leave with my kingdom. Oh, and that the army would blacken my good eye, and send me to prison to live out the rest of my days.”
“Oh my God!” The color drained from the page’s face.
“Ahh, but you see, it’s ok.”
“How is it okay!” Steve said in a high pitched tone of voice. “Do you not wish to marry?”
“As long as I marry another idiot, who also has no soul, her curse cannot be fulfilled, because she won’t care about my secrets if she’s a soulless idiot.” So, he continued, “I just have to make sure my future wife is an idiot, who has no soul, and I’ll be okay.”
And so it was…King Idiot had found a loophole in his curse. He was triumphant.
Until…
“King Idiot?”
“Yes?”
“Were you not born on All Soul’s Day?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, isn’t that a bad omen for all that you’ve just said?
At hearing this, the King’s lips grew very thin, indeed. He hurled his goblet across the room, and looked around the room for something else to throw. He grabbed a chair and smashed it over the table, spilling all of the rum, and causing the remaining lamb to fly about the room; its blood dripping onto the floor.
“Fetch Sir James, the Wise One. I will ask him.” He seethed and stormed about the room, his triumphant mood vanquished.
King Idiot had arranged for one of his spies to follow Page Steve whenever he departed to carry out his orders. He wanted to know exactly why it always took him so long to complete tasks and return to him. He longed to find out the true definition of “getting sidetracked.”
The king’s spy followed Page Steve throughout the streets of the kingdom. Page Steve took inane back roads that twisted and turned, instead of the direct route. This added considerable time to his journey. He drove woefully slow. This was in part due to his cautious nature, but it also served another purpose: He liked to look at the maidens.
The spy took off his cap and scratched his head. What was this? Why was he stopping here? This wasn’t Sir James the Wise One’s house.
Page Steve parked his carriage and walked up to the door and knocked. A maiden appeared at the door, and they disappeared into the cottage.
“Good Evening,” Lady Alexandra said.
“Good Evening,” Mi Lady.
“What brings you to call upon me?”
“I was in the neighborhood. I am passing through town on an errand for the King.”
“The King,” she hissed. “You know, I cursed him tonight.”
“Aye, so it was you. He is in an uproar over the curse. That’s why I’m in the area. I’m on to fetch Sir James the Wise One. The king was in a foul mood. He asked me to fetch him some rum. I asked him which rum he wished me to fetch: White rum, spiced rum, or dark rum. He said he didn’t have a preference, but when I brought him the spiced rum, he threw a fit! He said the spiced rum makes him impotent – but he loves the spiced rum, Lady Alexandra. He drinks it all the time.”
“Yes, I know. And it does make him impotent, but just about any little thing does. It doesn’t take much with him…”
“He threatened to have me walk the plank.”
“He threatened to have me walk the plank too!” Lady Alexandra interjected. “Does he even have a plank? I don’t even think he has one.…” she trailed off trying to recall if she’d ever seen this plank he threatens everyone with.
“I don’t know, but sometimes I wish he would just push me overboard, so I could be free of him. I swear….” Steve rolled his eyes in frustration.
“Of course, then I had to go all the way back to get the white rum for him. Why didn’t he just tell me to get the white rum in the first place?”
“Because he wishes to make you suffer. If you’d brought him the white rum, he would’ve found another reason to take his anger out on you.”
“And now I must fetch Sir James the Wise.” Page Steve pouted. “I worked all the day and I have to run all over town for him. I’m tired of it, Lady Alexandra.”
“I’m tired of it too. All I suggested was that he wear a patch over his soulless eye, and he threatened to have me walk the plank.” She sighed.
“Then he devoured a lamb. It was disgusting. He even made me eat it. I didn’t want to, but he was staring me down with his soulless eye, so I had no choice.” He sighed, too.
“Why does he want to speak with Sir James the Wise?”
“He thinks he found a loophole to your curse, but he isn’t sure.”
“My curse is sturdy and it stands, there is no loophole. In due time, he’s going to lose everything, as will all connected to him.”
“Then, he’s fretting because he’s born on All Soul’s Day.”
“So what if he’s born on All Soul’s Day?” she asked in an exasperated tone.
He looked at her very seriously, “A King of the Idiots can have no soul, Alexandra.”
“He need’nt worry. He hath no soul.”
“Yes, but it’s a bad omen, so he wishes to be advised by Sir James the Wise.”
“I wonder what he’ll say about it.”
“I don’t know, but I wish he didn’t live so far away. It’ll take me all night to get to his castle.”
They continued to talk into the night until, lo and behold; they found themselves in Lady Alexandra’s bed chambers.
The spy sat outside waiting. He was growing impatient. This wasn’t supposed to be a long trip. They should’ve been three-quarters of the way there by now. He was tired and wanted to be back at home, fed and asleep.
After a considerable amount of time had gone by, Page Steve bid Lady Alexandra goodbye. He had to continue his errand of fetching Sir James the Wise. He knew the King would be cross that it took so long, but he could always tell him the wheel to his carriage came loose. That would account for the time it took.
He continued on, unaware of the spy tracking his every move, on order of the King.
He needed one of his special pipes to soothe his nerves. He smoked it as he traveled along, but then found himself famished. He stopped at a local pub for a bite to eat, where he noticed Lady Julia. He asked her to sit and eat with him. He told her about the King and the curse, and the lamb, and the All Soul’s Day omen. She was enthralled with the story.
“Oh, Page Steve, I cannot wait to tell Lady Audrey. She loves a good tale.”
“What’s Lady Audrey’s story?”
“Oh, it’s just dreadful. She is betrothed to King Alan, but she doesn’t wish to marry him. He’s an awful man, and he’s old enough to be her father. The melancholy has taken her.”
“I will have to visit her at her cottage and console her,” he said.
“Oh, I hope you can drive out her melancholy thoughts.”
“I shall drive them out as hard as I can” he licked his lips.
“So, what ever became of Lady Kimberly? I recall that she was to be your betrothed.”
Page Steve pouted. “She was a spiteful wench. When I ended our engagement, she tried to destroy my fiefdom. She burned my entire crop, and then she took a sword to my furnishings. The King wanted to have her killed, but I said ‘no.’”
“How dreadful. You are familiar with the melancholy, then, yourself. What is she doing now?”
“She is a lady of the night. She works at a bordello in a town across the river.”
Lady Julia looked astonished. “Then you are most definitely familiar with the melancholy.”
“Mi Lady, I am.” Would you mind if I called on you tomorrow to talk more about it?”
“Of course, Page Steve, of course.”
Page Steve said goodbye to Lady Julia. “I will call on you on the morrow.”
“I look forward to it.”
He paid his bill and set out once again to fetch Sir James the Wise.
After such a large meal he needed his special pipe again. He smoked it as he drove along at a leisurely pace.
Finally he arrived at Sir James the Wise One’s castle. It was perched high atop a mountain. He had an enormous castle. It was known throughout the kingdom that Sir James the Wise had more riches than even King Idiot. This was often a source of worry for the king, who knew that with all of his money, he could take over the land of idiocy whenever he chose to do so. He had even more comrades in the army than the king, himself. It was a precarious situation that rattled the king.
To be continued.
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