THE KING’S RING

 THE KING’S RING

[A story I wrote]

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In those later days, the world had changed, for as always with the nature of men change comes with forgetting the days that proceeded it. The many long years of peace and civility were eroding away into the resentfulness and disregard of their father’s lore. The children had grown into their own and become hard-pressed to refashion the world after their own desires.

There came a time one spring of great feasting in the King’s Hall in Mithar, when, in their midst, an unannounced stranger stood. The man dressed all in black came even before the King’s throne itself, saying, “Oh great lord of Eriduah, do you even know the reason for your feasting, and its same declaration throughout your realm? Sire would that you embellished its stature with heroic games of sport, and recall the day’s origin and the battle which won the day’s call for such rejoicing. For if not sire, this celebration, without a definition is but a hollow and vain event, save only to fill the gluttonous bellies of fools ignorant of their past.”

The music halted as dancers stood still in their steps, smiles fell even as the king rose to his feet, “Harsh words from a stranger in my court. But they are true nonetheless, come and enlighten us – ignorant fools, that we may have a better reason for full bellies and warm hearts.”

“Then listen to my tale, Oh court of the King,” said the man in black who turned about to that listening people. “Baranal, am I, come from Uruk to enlighten your king, Gadreel in the real cause for celebration. “One hundred fifty-seven years ago from this very day sire, a man named Mahelabreth, and his wife Azureth were slaughtered, along with the company of thirty souls who gathered to cross into this new realm. As with so many immigrants, before them, had done in search of a place to call home, people were horrifically cut down by a ravenous band of goblins seeking to return to their caves in the Iron Hills. Word reached Mahelabreth’s brother, Jaravil a merchant of Uruk who quickly rose up arms to rout out that fleeing horde.

“Oh, King Gadreel and to your listening court, hear now these words, for in the aftermath of that vengeful onslaught a lone hostage, who was before unknown, was eagerly recovered. It was none other than the only child and daughter of Azureth, Awan herself! Rescued from those cruel beasts Awan declared they sought only to live among her uncle’s people in Uruk. So, tender her face and touching her tale that the city’s high lord, Rakeel desired to wed her and gift all her heart’s desire, though sadden he could never bring back those whom she had lost.

“King Gadreel of Mithar and you people of his realm, I tell you these things only that you may not forget the wedding feast celebrated that, this very day now; and the long years of peace and reason Goblins fear your lands. Know, also sire, that from the union of those two was birthed my very own grandfather’s grandfather, Kennan the smith who made the king that rides upon your noble finger, King of Mithar.” With that tale told Baranal, the man in black took a knee before that lord.

Gadreel looked down at his hand where the mithril, seven-pointed star was inlaid into a black onyx stone, and wrapped as a finely decorative golden ring.

The king removed the seal of his office and held it up high before the people to see. Then, stepping down from his raised seat the king said to the kneeling man before him, “Rise Sir Baranal and accept this gift as a memorial of your father’s love. From henceforth you shall be known to the people as a Chief of Records. For in sharing this tale you shall be gifted that very battlefield land and a manor raised upon it, befitting a nobleman; Baranal, son of Awan and Rakeel, in having kept and researched that which we forgot. You deserve recognition and praise for that we shall remember what has gone on before us.”

In accepting the ring that court burst into celebration once more, only now did they have a much better understanding for their joy.