The Prince
There once was a young man, the son of the Great King who lived on the mountain. The King owned everything, as far as the eye could see. As far away as the Eastern Mountains. As far away as the Great Sea to the west. As far away as the Northern Forests. And as far away as the Great Desert to the south.
One day, the King said to his son, “It is time for the Great Feast. On the day of the Autumn Equinox, I will pass this kingdom on to you. For the time has come for me to journey northward, to a people yet unreached.”
“As you wish, Father. How shall I prepare?”
“My son, your whole life has been preparation,” the King smiled. “But now, before you are King, you must go and live among the people you are to rule.”
“Live among them, Father?” the son asked with both hesitation and curiosity. “But why?”
“My son,” the King replied. “You have spent all your life here within the castle walls. You have learned the ways of our realm— our history, our culture, how to live and govern wisely.” Here the King paused. “But,” he continued. “Now you must go and live as one of them, so that before you rule, you know what it is to feel their pain, experience their joy, and toil for what you eat.”
“Yes, Father,” the Prince agreed.
“You will take only these few possessions with you.” And here the King laid out before the Prince a stave worn smooth as silk, a sword of rich design, and a coat of sturdy leather. “You will know what to do with each of these when the time comes, my son.”
“Yes, Father.”
“You may wonder at the weight of the coat. Stitched within the lining, front and back, are 120 gold coins. You may give to those in need, but you may spend nothing on yourself. And whatever you give must be done in secret. To the people, you must appear as a common traveler, no better and no worse than any other.”
Here the King paused and looked steadily into the Prince’s eyes. “My son,” he continued. “You must earn your keep among the people as a stranger. You must earn their trust as an equal. And you must treat them as you would the members of the royal family.”
“Yes, Father,” was the Prince’s only reply.
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The next morning, the Prince set out by way of a back trail that was seldom used. It was a trail he had discovered as a child. An old path, almost overgrown when he’d found it.
“I shall come in by the East Road,” the Prince thought to himself. “I shall not be seen coming from the castle by the main road.”
And as the Prince set out, the King called to his side his Chief Administrators and Chief Advisor. “As you know,” he began. “My son shall soon inherit this kingdom.”
The men all nodded in agreement.
“And I shall journey to the Northern Lands, just as my father journeyed to the Southern Lands, and his father before him to the Eastern Lands.”
The men nodded again, and said in unison, “Yes, my Lord.”
“And so, preparation must be made for the Great Feast. Let it be known among the people that all are welcome. And let it be known to all who would come that whatever debt they owe is to be paid in full.”
The three men nodded in unison. “As you have said, it shall be done, my Lord.”
And so, the men went out. They made known the King’s generous invitation and the King’s edict that all debts be paid in full. And the preparations were begun for the Great Feast.
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Now, as kingdoms go, this one was rather small. Not in land, but in population. To the west, along the Great Sea, were the three fishing villages. To the north were the builders, and suppliers of wood. Two villages, each with their own lumber mill. To the east, the miners and metalworkers. Three villages. And to the south, the great herders and farmers. Four villages. None of the villages were self-sufficient because each needed the other for goods and supplies. But the land and the sea, the forests and the mountains— all had been generous to the people. Even so, each village had their share of debt to the King.
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Coming in from the East Road, the Prince soon came upon the North Road which took him to the southernmost logging village in almost no time at all. He was friendly to the people, and most took a liking to him right away. The Chief Miller gave him a job stacking sawed planks as they came off the mill saw. He worked hard, and in exchange was given room and board.
In time, he came to know the plight of these two villages. In recent years, there had been a decreasing need for lumber. As a result, each village had gone into some debt. The Prince had heard of his father’s edict that all debts be paid in full. The young man had grown to love the people of the lumber villages, as he often ate in their homes.
Now, the common currency in the kingdom was silver, in addition to goods people bartered back and forth with each other. Each village, he had learned, was indebted 1,000 silver crescents. It so happened that each of the gold coins which lined the Prince’s coat was worth 100 silver crescents. And so, late one night, the Prince stole into the treasury house of each logging village and secretly placed 10 gold coins through the slot of each one's secured chest. (To this day, the guards do not know how he got past him. Only that he did.)
In the morning, still under the cover of darkness, the Prince gathered his belongings and made his way west to the Great Sea.
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And so it went. In each direction he traveled, he took up residence in one of the villages. He found work as a fisherman, a farmer, and a miner, respectively. And because the villages in each region were fairly close, both geographically and relationally, the Prince grew to love the people of each village in his kingdom.
Just as he had in the first villages, the Prince learned of the people’s outstanding debts. So, from his own wealth, in each village he secretly left enough gold coins to cover what they owed.
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Now, the time of the Autumn Equinox was drawing near. And the Prince knew he must soon be leaving the mining villages behind him and begin making his way back to the castle.
On his last night, as was now his custom, he made his way secretly to each of the treasury houses in the region. But, upon leaving the first treasury house, he was seen by two thieves. They said to one another, “What is this man up to? Let’s follow him.” So that’s what they did.
But, when he came away, he seemed to have taken nothing with him. Puzzled, they decided to watch him more carefully as he approached the third and final treasury house. They didn’t see how he got past the guard. But, when they were sure he was inside, they peered in at one of the windows. There was enough moonlight shining in a side window to give them a glimpse of what he was doing. To their surprise, they saw him take off his outer coat and carefully remove some stitches from the lining. As he did so, he removed a gold coin and deposited it in the treasury chest.
“Gold,” they whispered to each other in unison.
They watched him do this several times before they stole away to the shadows to devise their new plan.
“When he comes out,” the one said, “I shall draw his attention with a question. I have seen this man around town, and he is very friendly with the townspeople. Surely he will engage me in a sincere exchange of words. When he does, you come around from behind and strike him over the head with this,” he said, indicating a large stone beside him.
“Agreed,” the other said.
When the Prince left the treasury house, he was startled by the figure that stepped out of the shadows.
“Excuse me, sir,” begged the first thief. “But can you tell me the way to the public house?”
The Prince was wary, this late at night. But he answered the man as he would one of the royal family. “Just up the road there, brother. The first building you come to on the right. You’ll….” But he was cut off mid-sentence by a blow to his head.
“Quickly! You grab his coat,” the first thief said. “I’ll grab his sword. It looks to be of great value.”
The two thieves removed his outer coat and sword. Then the first thief stopped and looked up at his companion. “On second thought,” he said. “Here. You take this too,” and he handed him the sword. “Hold them while I drag his body to the stream.”
The other stood there, dumbly, in the moonlight. The first thief was back shortly since the stream was just beyond the nearby trees. “Quickly!” he said again. “Let’s go!” And the two thieves ran off into the shadows of the night.
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The Prince lay bruised and bleeding, face-down in the stream. As he was unconscious, it was not long before the blackness of death permeated his body. And this two nights before the Autumn Equinox.
His blood mingled with the ice-cold water of the stream as it made its way east toward the mountains. And with it, the water carried the cap the Prince had been wearing when he was cast into the stream.
The cap came to rest along the bank of the stream near an old cabin. It so happened that the Wise Woman who lived there had been at her door, gazing at the night sky, when she heard the muffled cry of a man far off in the distance, in the direction of the mining villages.
She did not know that it was the cry of the Prince, but at the sound, she made her way down to the bank of the stream. Many long hours passed as she stood there and waited. She knew not for what, but she waited.
And then it happened, as the sun began to rise over the horizon, that she caught the glint of an unusual color on the water. She peered more closely and could see that it was blood. Not the hue of animals, but the hue of man. And not that of just any man, but the hue of royal blood. And then there was no mistaking it because there came into view a sodden mass floating down the stream until it came to rest on the bank at her feet. The pattern of the cloth was unmistakable, for she had made the cap herself, and had given it to the Prince on his 20th birthday. And today was the eve of his 21st.
She reached down to pick it up and knew that the prophecy of her dreams had come true: “The one who is to sail west, his blood at first light sails east.”
She knew she had little time. If he was to one day sail west, as his father, the King, now plans to journey north, she had to act quickly. The words she now recalled had been passed down to her from generations long past: “At first light, on the eve of the Autumn Equinox, before the sun reaches the top of the northern trees, the leaves of healing must enter the mouth of the deceased. And he shall live again.” Now these words would be put to the test.
The Wise Woman gathered leaves from the healing tree which she tended beside her cabin. Then she uncaged the mourning dove that was her constant companion through many long years. She placed three leaves within its beak and sent it off in the direction of the fallen Prince. And then she sang.
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The dove alighted on the Prince’s shoulder, and she cooed her song of mourning. The wind stirred, and the trees bowed. And the stream gave up her Prince’s head just enough that the dove could place the leaves within his open mouth.
As she did so, the sun peered over the northern tree line and bathed the Prince’s face with her morning light.
At once, the Prince coughed. Not once, but several times as the water that filled his mouth and lungs was exhaled. His eyes burst open, and he bolted up to a sitting position.
Then, over the breeze now coming from the east, he could hear the words of the Wise Woman as she sang a song of Hope:
“To the West,
to the West, child,
rise and go.
“To the West,
to the West where
bells do toll
“For the coronation
of a King
where the people gather
and the birds will sing:
“ ‘Victory,
Sweet Victory,
the Feast has now begun.’ ”
The Prince rose, shakily at first. Then he slowly made his way up the short ravine and to the edge of the road across from the village treasury house. There, amid the undergrowth, he found his wooden stave. And, securing it, he ventured forth more steadily down the East Road toward the Mountain of the King.
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When he arrived at the castle gate, no one seemed to recognize him. “It is I, dear Reginald,” he said, smiling broadly at the gatekeeper as he passed him by. “It is I,” he said greeting the Chief Baker as he passed him on the road. “It is I,” he said to the little girl, Mary, who had often sat at his feet when he played his lute and sang his songs of praise.
And so it was that the Prince arrived at his father’s house in the afternoon, on the eve of the Autumn Equinox. But his father was not there.
“The King is down the hill at the Trial House,” said one of the servant girls. He has gone to sentence the two thieves.
“Thieves?” questioned the Prince. “What thieves?”
“Them’s that’s killed the Prince,” she answered as she buried her head beneath one arm and ran away.
The Prince paused in thought. No one had recognized him as he came into the castle grounds. Not the gatekeeper. Not the Chief Baker. Not even little Mary. “They think I’m dead. But on what grounds?” he thought to himself.
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At the Trial House, it became all too clear. There, on the bench before the King, lay his own sword and outer coat. He had no direct remembrance of losing them. Just his last conversation with the man upon the road, followed by a sudden burst of pain to the back of his head. Then blackness until he awoke, half lying in the stream.
But there was more. There, kneeling before him in the stocks, were the two men presumably found in possession of his property. Thieves the servant girl had called them. As the Prince walked around to see the men’s faces, he recognized the man who had confronted him on the road the night before.
Then, as if peering through a haze, the King looked over and recognized his son. “My son,” he cried. “My son, you’re alive!”
The two men in stocks stared at him with astonishment and fear. “It’s not possible,” one whispered to the other.
“It is a mystery to me too,” the Prince answered. “I was dead, but now I live.”
The other thief, the one who had not yet spoken, cried out, “Forgive me.” Then more forcefully, “Forgive me!” After a moment of silence, the man went on. “It was I who planned to rob you. And it was I who cast you face-down in the stream to die. Please forgive me, my Lord. Forgive me. Forgive me.” But his last words were almost unintelligible amid the sobs and tears that poured from the man's face.
“Yes. I know in my spirit it was you,” the Prince said.
“Yes,” the other thief accused. “It was him. He admits it was him! He takes full responsibility.”
“And what about you?” the Prince asked.
“ ‘Twas his idea, I tell you. I just did as I was told, sir.”
“Then it will be as you say, brother,” the Prince replied. “This man beside you has taken full responsibility. And, because he has asked me for forgiveness, I grant him full pardon.” Here the Prince paused, a grave look upon his face.
“But you, brother, because you have taken no responsibility and have sought only to shift the blame, you shall receive no pardon. Guards!” the Prince called loudly. “Remove this man from the stocks, and his head from his body.”
The guards were swift in both tasks.
“But this man,” the Prince said as he gestured toward the other. “Bring him forward, that I may confer on him a new title.”
And they brought the man forth, and he knelt before the Prince and King.
“No longer will you be called ‘thief,’ brother. And no longer shall you live freely on the toil of others.” Here the Prince lifted the man to his feet. “No,” he continued. And taking the sword from the bench before his father, he laid its tip upon one, and then the other, of the man’s shoulders.
“I pardon you freely and fully. And I dub thee Chief Steward of Arms. You who once took my life will now guard it with your own.”
The man bowed and leaned forward, bending one knee. Then he took a step back. “My Lord,” he answered.
The Prince turned to his father, then lifted the leather coat from the bench as well. “The last of the gold coins lie in the treasuries to the east. But wear this coat with the honor with which it was bestowed upon me.” And he handed it to his Chief Steward of Arms.
“You may leave, now, brother,” and the Prince nodded in the direction of the armory.
The rest of the day was spent in final preparation for the Great Feast. Father and son discussed all that had happened over the preceding months. And the Prince shared all that he had learned in the course of living among his people.
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At the first light of day, the Prince stood at his chamber window, facing east toward the mountains. The Wise Woman’s song still echoed in his ears as his gaze followed the path of the stream as it weaved its way toward her abode.
“And today,” he said aloud to himself as he peered down on the villages below. “Today you are my bride. You and your sisters to the north and to the south and to the west.”
Already, the Prince could see the parade of people, dressed in white, slowly making their way up the East Road to the Mountain of the King. And if he were to look out upon the other villages, he would see the same.
“Today is a New Day,” the Prince smiled as the words flowed from his lips. “The first day of a new season. All debts have been paid in full. The Great Feast has arrived. And the coronation of the Fourth King of the Middle Kingdom has come. Let the Days of Peace begin.”