December 21, 2011

• Té Teperedcé Kroné: The Debtor King

  

  As a Christmas treat, here is Part One of my version of the story of King Midas. Enjoy! Yes, I know there are some funny words but I trust you are all intelligent enough to come up with your own way of pronouncing them! Please pardon any errors; it is still a work in progress.

   

  In the days following the breaking of the earth, after the Man and the Woman came into the Wilderland beyond the gates of Héleredh, from whence they were brought from the dust and made to live, there came to be many kingdoms.

  Far was the land between realms and there were no marches on maps, no pale or post to be seen but merely vast wastes through which only the very brave or foolish dared to tread. Therefore it was that the wastes kept the peace, and as the sons and daughters of Mankind grew and multiplied, they settled and formed kingdoms under the guidance of the Elves-Who-Remained, the Héloshtaíc. They were taught also the planting of crops, the husbandry of animals, the delving of earth for gems and metals and the working thereof. These manifold kingdoms of men prospered, but none so much as Médash who seemed to have endless stores of gold.

  Médash it was who lay no cornerstone for a city, but rather bore into the very living mountain and there made his people to dwell. When he discovered that the whole of the great stone was struck through with gold and gems, he began to hoard it all within hidden chambers upon which he affixed his seal: a great golden hand. Atop the mountain, above the tunnels and chambers within which dwelt his many people, Médash raised a palace that glittered in crystal as though it were eternal snow, and even kingdoms across the wastes could see it afar off, and the moon at night shone upon it, causing many to think that a new star had been kindled in the sky. So did he prosper, and all under his rule flourished.

  One day, beneath the mountain in the great market chamber, there was a wedding festival taking place. There in the center, where seven shafts of light of different colors met, stood a young man and a young woman, and all rejoiced with them. The petals of flowers were strewn before them as the Elves had taught, and new-forged rings of gold were upon their hands. Already had the wine been taken, already the veil lifted, and it seemed that as the wedded two stood in the varied light, Médash could descry an eighth color of a shade no man could name, and he then desired a thing more than all his vaults possessed, and that was love. Whatever shade love shone in, he thought unto himself, he wished to be illuminated within its rays.

  Thus he stuck his rod upon the flags and cried aloud, “Oh my people, hear your king! Long have we labored together in this mountain and long has been our bliss. Alas, each beast in our caves has a mate, and every man who comes of age finds his peace and joy in a wife. Yet your king, so long satisfied pouring his heart into his people, has naught left to give unless he can find another to draw out the deeper measure. Am I doomed to have everything, and yet nothing?”

  The people were silent, and a man spoke, “Surely, my king, your gold could summon forth the daughters of kings from across God’s earth, and they would come gladly even across the peril of the Wastes? For songs of your kindness and prosperity are sung far and wide, and even further shines the moonlight upon the Towers of Acton!”

  A song arose, praising their king, but still he bore a grim face. “I fear,” he uttered in the heavy silence that fell before his words, “that I shant taste food, nor drink sweet wines, nor sleep until the vault of my loneliness is utterly spent and replenished with such company as my heart desires.”

  Within that very hour he dispatched his golden eagles with tidings to all the kings within their reach. Over the coming days word arrove by the very same means, parchments written upon with scarlet inks and sealed with golden wax, wrapped around a sprig of olive signifying peace. Those kings with daughters promised to send a long caravan of revelers, that the great King Médash may yet behold a gem for which he has not yet delved, a precious metal wrought not by his expert craftsmen, a treasure that he desired above all else—that of a maiden fairest of all.

  First to arrive was the daughter of King Korobhda, who was well known for the many fruits grown in the fertile floodplain along a great river that flowed through his lands. She was called Lílabhél, and her hair was bound in a long, obsidian braid woven with gold and white ribbon. Her skin was dark like wet sands and her eyes brown like carved wood in the shade of midday, set in windows like unto the Elves of Eséa’s House. Strong men bore her on a bier, and she lay upon plush cushions filled with cotton and cedar shavings, and the pungent scent emanated from her and drew every face to its sweetness. Golden earrings bearing emeralds dangled from her ears, and a simple chain of silver and gold was draped around her slender neck. Rings adorned her fingers, bracelets her wrists, and the whole of her body was thinly veiled in a dress made of red silk that shimmered gold when she moved. The mere sight of her caused men’s hearts to pound and they cast their eyes to the ground lest they be overwhelmed, and women looked upon her with awe.

  When she was brought before Médash she arose shimmering as a spout of lithe red and gold, and servants seemingly without number lay baskets of many kinds of fruit about her in tribute.

  “Oh King,” she said in a rich voice, as though one had drawn a bow across the strings of a great viol, “my father sends his deepest respects, and wishes for you every blessing. He sends the second fruits of the first harvest—the first fruits being offered to God our Father—that you may taste the sweetness of his land. He sends me that you may consider yet a different fruit, of the tree of Korobhda and Marohél, and find it equally pleasing.”

  She stood as an oak, rooted in a strength that caused Médash to pause in awe. There was a dignity to her pose that seemed beyond even his own royalty, seeming to touch upon a line of kings of far greater standing than any he had known. This princess left an impression upon him that he would not soon forget, and from that moment when she stood there before him, Médash wondered if indeed she would be his bride.

  “Worthy daughter! Even amongst my many treasures wrought by the hand of Elf, Man or Dwarf, all would be as dust were you to stand among them! These eyes, made dim by the luster of gold, are opened anew in wonder as in days long past when they first knew beauty. I beg you, please, take your ease and make this mountain your home for a time; let my servants attend to you as though you were already queen.”

  She bowed gracefully as his attendants led her away. Others came forward and raised the baskets of fruit, looking to Médash for a command.

  “Bring an empty basket and place the smallest of each kind within it for my own pleasure; distribute the rest to my people.” And so it was done.

   

  The next day King Merenérn’s daughter arrove, and Médash thought his heart would burst, for a new standard of beauty had been set within. At his right hand sat already Lílabhél, lounging luxuriantly, yet before him stood a woman pale as ivory and painted with thin swirls and flares of silvery-blue, clad in an airy white raiment seemingly made of mist. Sapphires set in silver dangled like dewdrops from her neck and ears, and pearls shone upon each finger and about her wrists. Bhéalmal was her name, and her hair flowed loose from atop her head as an auburn stream, leaves of mother-of-pearl floating upon it, and her sea-green eyes gazed peacefully at him.

  “Majesty,” she said in a voice like flowing water, “I bring tidings from my father, along with the bounty of the sea. Here are baskets of dried fish to feast upon, as well as pearls and ivory to enrich your treasury. He begs, however, that you drink deep of the sweetness of the river of his line, that she may nourish the tree of Médash for many prosperous years and bring water to every desert you may cross.”

  Touched by her message and awed by her beauty, the great king who was ordinarily eloquent and ready to speak, found himself hardly able to move. “It would please me immensely,” he said shakily, “to have the sea at my left hand, as I have the sun at my right. Your gift of food will be offered to the people once I have tasted of its goodness,” he paused as she proffered a piece of seasoned swordfish to him, and he savored it, “Indeed my people will delight in it, as I delight in thee. Please, do sit.”

  Smiling she took her place at his side, the fishing-net shawl upon her shoulders draped upon a deep-blue gown that shimmered silver-green like water in moonlight, and her body was strong as though hardened by much time at swimming, yet was supple and gentle and a pleasure to look upon.

   

  That evening, while King Médash was at supper, with Lílabhél and Bhéalmal at either side, a servant entered and announced the daughter of King Bhelegérn: the Princess Edhsél. A place was prepared for her and she entered, her dark skin a startling contrast to the brilliant white gown that clothed her. Awe struck him, and it seemed that a warrior angel had come before him, for she wore the helm of a spearman and bore even such arms, thrusting the spear point-first into the floor and placing her helm atop it. Thin braids of jet poured from out it, the helm revealing her strong face, and the shining silver breastplate she wore was removed by her own servants, that she might dine without cumbrance. Her eyes were white and set with turquoise, and her face was fine and proud. A body shaped for war and sport commanded with every movement, each motion a victory of its own. Such was the extent of his intrigue and fascination that he pondered what it would be like to hunt with such a woman, to rule with one so capable, that could ride to the defense of her nation at his side.

  “My Lady Edhsél,” he began, “I am most humbled by your coming here. You have traveled far.”

  “My Lord,” she said in a deep voice that would cause a lesser man to tremble, “so unbearable was my anticipation that I rode far ahead of my caravan, sleeping beneath moon and star to arrive here before you. I bathed in oasis and river and dried in the sun; I perfumed my hair with the oil of desert flowers and have no gift to offer but my presence before you, and the glad tidings of my father, King Bhelegérn. The caravan should arrive in three days to bring to you a thousand of our finest cattle, as well as the heartwood of seventy fine cedars, for your use.”

  “Worthy Lady,” he replied, wetting his dry tongue with wine before speaking, “such generosity is without match. And the speed with which you have come… I cannot help but wonder what it is you expected to find here that makes such toil worthwhile?”

  Smiling with teeth as white as snow, Edhsél tilted her head to honor him and replied, “To look upon so great a king is worth the journey; to be seen by such as would have so discerning an eye for what is truly beautiful… I would ride the very dawn to be weighed upon his scales and found desirable.”

  Her response smote him to the heart, and he found that he could eat no more. All in attendance gasped at the eloquence of her reply, and wondered if they indeed beheld the woman that would become their queen. Servants soon lay a golden plate before her with meats and roasted vegetables, as well as a small platter of the fruits brought by Lílabhél, and a silver chalice of wine. Even the manner of her eating was beautiful and sure, with one quick slice of the knife, a practiced raising of the morsel to her mouth, modest chewing, a swallow, and one small sip of wine or water. All the while her bright eyes were upon him, and the king felt as though his appetite could be cured merely by her glances.

  • 11:08 am
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