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Crystal Smee

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“Baby before it’s too late…
What about now…”
As he finished the song, the applause roared through the inn. Throughout the last three songs, the crowd in the inn had grown. So had the pile of gold coins next to him. He rubbed fingers that ached from being called upon after so long away from the strings of a guitar. Wincing, he offered as the applause died down, “How about a story, next?”
This idea was met with more clapping. “Please do, ser!* yelled one peasant.
“Yes!”
“Grand idea, ser!”
He smiled. “Good, then. My fingers need a break.” He winked to his audience. “So, this tale I’d like to tell, I heard it long ago from a storyteller, back when I was as young as some of you.” He gestured to a little boy perched on his mother’s lap. “Now…These last few weeks have been mighty hard on all of us. The Plague is destroying the nation, and I know many of you have lost hope.”
There were mutters among the crowd, where was he going with this? He continued quickly, “This long-forgotten story comes to mind now, because it is similar, my friends. All of you can relate, and perhaps it can restore some of your hope, and belief that help will come.”
Far across the tavern, he caught Krystal’s eye. She was smiling as she understood his purpose. The look of pride and joy in her amber eyes made his heart soar. Returning her grin, he began the tale. “Many, many years ago, there was an evil king. His name was Gaspard. He sat on his throne, lapping up the luxuries of nobility, and never gave a care to the realm the people had entrusted to him.
“While his eyes were turned away, the realm became impoverished. There was no food, no clean water. Thievery was a necessity; there was no coin to do honest trade, and besides, almost nothing to trade. People fought to death in the streets over a crumb of stale bread. Homes were broken into day and night, and ravaged, only to find that there was nothing to take.

28-May-2007 20:11:13

Crystal Smee

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“And all the while, the evil king sat his throne, feasting and jesting with his nobles, and turned his back on his kingdom. Until the one day, when he held court as always, and a peasant man broke his way through the crowd to kneel at the king’s feet.
“A hush fell over the crowd of lords and ladies. Who was this dirty, insignificant man, that he dared intrude on their court? The king calmly gnawed off the last of the meat upon the bone he was eating, tossed it aside, and sneered, ‘What do you want?’
‘Please, your highness, I beg a favor,’ pleaded the peasant. ‘I speak for all the people when I say that we are in grave need of your help.’
‘What would you like?’ replied the king, with mock grace.
The peasant missed the mockery, and murmured, ‘We could use some food, your majesty.’
Gaspard gestured at his just-cleaned plate of food and laughed at the serf. ‘Forgive me, but I have none.’
The peasant flushed angrily. ‘Perhaps some coin then, your majesty?’ Though he already knew the answer.
Gaspard emptied the pockets of his extravagant robe. ‘Forgive me, but I have none.’ Infuriated, the peasant gazed up at his king, dark eyes brimming with tears of desperation. His mouth worked, but he could find no words. Silently, he made a promise to the king, but the king had no idea. Then he stormed from the court.
“The king laughed off the moment, but from that day on, he knew he must act before he was unseated. He sent out his army to uproot and destroy any brilliant mind that might be able to rally the people against him. In his reign of terror, hundreds of thousands were murdered for wrong charges of treason.

28-May-2007 20:11:33

Crystal Smee

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“But not all of them died. Many of the brilliant escaped, and banded together in their time of need. And so came the decided day of judgment, when Gaspard would pay for his crimes. They stormed his castle and entered his throne room. There the fat king sat, eating a pair. The thick juices ran down his face as they came closer, and he dropped the pair in fright. He saw the bared steel and knew that his time had come.
“All the same, he implored, ‘Mercy, please, mercy!’
The leader of the rebels glared at the king, and the king recognized the dark eyes filled with hate and fury. ‘Forgive me,’ snarled the peasant, ‘but I have none.’ And he ran the king through on his sword.
“After the death of the king, the peasant took the throne, and though it took many years, managed to restore the realm to its previous and proper glory. Once again there was sunlight, and peace, and happiness,* finished Bond.
The tavern nearly shook with their approval. After a few minutes, silence fell again, and the little boy called out from his mother’s lap, *Is it true?”
“’Course it ain’t,” growled a man in the back. “There weren’t never no king ‘Gaspard’.”
The boy looked back to Bond for his answer. The bard sighed. “No, it isn’t true. But the moral is still the same. Do not give up hope, for help is coming.”
“To kill the king?” asked the man in the back.
Bond flinched. “Of course not,” he snapped. “But the Plague will be stopped. Everything will return to the way it should be, I promise you.”

28-May-2007 20:11:53

Crystal Smee

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The innkeep interrupted by approaching with a goblet of wine. He offered it out to Bond. “Take a rest, ser, and the drink. It be on the house.”
“I shouldn’t…”
“Please. Blessed be, you’ve got a pretty way with words. Hate to have them run out if your throat ‘came dry. Sit with your friends, wet your throat, and maybe in a bit you’ll gift us again.”
Laughing, Bond accepted the drink, and made his way to the table of his companions. The crowd dejectedly accepted the silence of the inn and settled in their seats to await Bond’s return. One man in the back, wearing chainmail and a sword, exited the inn in a rush.
Bond slid into the seat next to Krystal and dumped his load of gold on the wooden surface. “Look what I’ve got.”
“Gods…” whispered Adrian.
It was more than enough. Well over a hundred coins, it could buy each of them two horses or more. The peasants had given all they had in return for a few moments’ happiness. It broke his heart.
The company was basking in their triumph when eight armored men burst into the tavern. The innkeep blanched with fear and hurried over to them. “Honored soldiers, how might I serve you?”
“Where’s the bard?” growled the first. It was the man who had exited the inn when Bond sat down.
Bond slowly rose from his seat. “I’m right here…” he said cautiously.
“Come with us,” ordered a second guard.
“Why?” demanded Krystal.
The guard rolled his eyes. As one, they moved around Bond and pulled him roughly away from the table. “You have been charged with treason, for speaking ill of his Majesty the Emperor.”
“No!” Krystal begged. The others could only watch speechlessly as he was dragged off. His fans yelled angrily amongst themselves as their entertainer was taken away to jail.
~*~*~*~ End of Chapter ~*~*~*~

28-May-2007 20:12:52