It
had been a hot, relentless summer, and all the
people of the land were weary. King Goldhelm, whose
reign had begun with such promise, was now old and
brittle in his ways. He tolerated no violation of
his law, however minor. Food and drink were hoarded
in his castle, and the people subsisted on rations
of bread and water.
Now the air was turning
cool, and a great harvest was brought in: sweet
apples from the orchard, grapes from the vineyards,
luscious ripe vegetables and fruits of all
description. The people had toiled all summer,
drawn by the promise of harvest time, when there
would be feasting, dancing, and wine for
all.
But King Goldhelm's men came
and took the apples, the grapes, the fruits and
vegetables, and put them in locked stores in the
castle. Orders were issued that work could not yet
stop, but the people must till the fields each day
until frost came, must repair fences and buildings,
and pave the roads with new stones.
Some people began to say
that the king held celebrations in the castle each
night, where the finest wines were served and the
feasting went from sunset to dawn. In fact, this
was not true, as King Goldhelm had become old, and
no longer cared for festivities such as these.
Rather, his evenings were spent in long, brooding
conversations with his counselors about how best to
sustain the rule of law and civilization he had
brought to the land and its people as a youthful
king so long ago. For Goldhelm lived in fear that
if he ever dropped his guard, the people would take
advantage of his weakness and return to savage,
lawless ways.
Now word came to him of the
grumblings of his subjects, who were weary and felt
the king had deprived them of the rewards of their
labor, denying them the blessings of the harvest
they had worked so long and hard to bring in. This
news stoked the king's fears, and now he saw plots
of rebellion everywhere. He had his guards double
their watches, and proclaimed all manner of new
laws, regulating each small detail of life.
A curfew was put in place, a ban was set on
public singing and dancing (not that there was much
of this happening), and homes and gardens were
inspected for signs of disrepair or neglect. The
king pored over the reports of his guards with
fierce intensity, convinced that each violation
pointed to a potential usurper or disturber of the
peace.
So it was that the people
began to whisper in secret, bringing to life the
memory of a different king, who had ruled long
before: King Hollyhorn, who wore holly leaves
and antlers on his head, and whose halls were open
to all and flowed with food and wine. The people
began to dream of King Hollyhorn's return, and to
say that he still lived in exile in a distant
country, waiting for the proper moment to come home
and rescue the people of the land from
tyranny.
When these stories came to
King Goldhelm, he ordered a great wall be built
around the land, and the gates leading in be manned
with guards, day and night. On the very evening of
the day the wall was finished, a stranger appeared
at the gate. He had raven hair and bright, wild
eyes. The guards on duty ordered him to halt and
they questioned him.
The stranger explained that
he had brought a special shipment of wine for King
Goldhelm, and that it was expected for a great
feast the very next night. The guards suspected a
trick, and asked the stranger to show them his
wares. The stranger obliged, and then lowered his
voice and spoke softly to the guards, as though
sharing a confidence:
"Gentlemen, I must confide
that I fear for my safety. Your king is known
far and wide as a person of very particular tastes,
and I do not know if this wine is good enough
to please him. If you would do me the honor of
sampling some before I enter, I can better choose
whether to bring this to him, or to turn back now
and so avoid his anger."
Now, the stranger's story
was very persuasive to the guards. Indeed, they
already suspected that King Goldhelm was drinking
and feasting in his castle, and his exacting
standards were common knowledge. Furthermore, the
guards were weary from helping to build the wall,
and were despondent at having a long watch ahead of
them before they were allowed to go to bed, so the
prospect of a taste of wine to refresh them and
ease their cares a bit seemed quite welcome. And,
after all, were they not doing their duty to the
king, by subjecting the stranger and his goods to a
thorough inspection?
What happened, of course,
was this: the guards became drunk with wine
and fell to sleep, and the stranger (who was indeed
Hollyhorn), slipped into the kingdom and walked
among the people, listening to their tales and
smiling knowingly when his own name was
mentioned.
The next day, all the king's
guards were searching busily for Hollyhorn, but to
no avail. The king ordered all his subjects to stop
their working and assemble in the great yard in
front of the castle. He thought that in this way,
the stranger would no longer be able to hide. News
had traveled throughout the land about Hollyhorn's
return, and when the great throng assembled in the
yard, they began to chant Hollyhorn's name. This
was against the king's law, of course, but there
were too many people for the guards to seize - and,
indeed, the guards themselves were chanting
too.
Hollyhorn emerged from the
crowd into the open space before the castle gates.
From high above, King Goldhelm on his balcony
shouted "Seize him!" A few guards moved
uncertainly toward Hollyhorn. The young man with
raven hair raised his hand and spoke in a loud,
clear voice like music: "Most excellent King
Goldhelm, what courtesy is this? For I too am
a king, although perhaps it has been too long since
any here have visited my land. Will you not come
down, so that we may meet as equals?"
King Goldhelm, although he
feared Hollyhorn had come to usurp his throne and
kill him, could not ignore such an appeal to proper
custom, nor would he dare to appear as a coward
before his people. A few moments passed in
silence, and then Goldhelm emerged from the castle,
wearing a crown of finely wrought gold, his long
white beard waving in the cool breeze of the autumn
afternoon.
Hollyhorn bowed with a
flourish, then spoke: "King Goldhelm, your
time has come and gone. The people are tired; your
law is a burden on their backs, and soon it will
break them. Their work for you is done, let them
drink and feast now!" The crowd roared approval,
and Goldhelm suddenly felt very much
alone.
"Seize him!" Goldhelm
shouted to his guards. But Hollyhorn raised his
hand and the guards stopped in their
tracks.
"If you will not leave
willingly, Goldhelm, then we must
fight!"
"I will never abandon
my people to your barbarity again," the old
king shouted. He raised his sword, but his arms
were old and weak, and Hollyhorn took the sword
from him.
"As you would have it,
then," said Hollyhorn, as he killed the old king
with his own sword, beneath the setting sun of the
first day of autumn.
True to his name, Hollyhorn
donned a crown of holly leaves and antlers, and was
made king of the land to much rejoicing. He opened
the castle doors, and a great feast was set forth.
The people ate, drank, and danced through the
night, wild and careless, and did not sleep until
dawn, thankful that the long summer of heat and
toil, and with it Goldhelm's tyranny, had come to
an end at last.
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