The Phaedra peered back at him from the shadows of his hooded retreat. “Of course. And I can speak for the king and tell you here and now.”
Steward’s heart raced. His breathing came short and fast. “Oh, then, please do, at once.” Was he about to learn what he had been seeking all his life? And this was only the first day of his journey?
I will be back in Aiden Glenn by suppertime.
The Phaedra sat down on a large rock just where the meadow ended and the path entered an area of deep woods. The afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the ground. Steward sat opposite him and listened intently for the words that would unlock his destiny.
“Your name, dear Master Steward, means ‘one who takes care of all he has.’ That is your calling—to take care of what you have in service of the king. Do you understand this?”
He didn’t, at least not fully. “I’m not sure. It seems so simple. What does it mean to take care of what I have?”
“What does it mean? My dear young Steward, it means that you must acquire all you can, and as you do you must put it to good use. You must invest it, build great things with it, enjoy it for your own, and, from time to time, be generous with it.”
Steward thought of his small satchel and simple clothes. His heart sank. “But I have nothing. How can I take care of what I do not have?”
The Phaedra leaned toward him. “That is precisely why you must not go to the throne room of the king. How foolish you would look if you were to learn of this meaning of your name and have nothing to show for it. How would you bear the scorn of the king if you were to appear before him empty-handed, only to learn that your very name means what it does?”
The scene unfolded in his mind.
Him standing before the king with nothing to show. He could imagine the magnificent face of the king, and he watched his countenance grow sullen and angry. Steward felt the humiliation and shame. The king glowering at him as he stood empty-handed.
Save me from this!
“Oh, dear, good Phaedra, you have kept me from a great embarrassment. How foolish I would have looked! But what must I do now? I can’t go back to Aiden Glenn empty-handed. Without anything acquired for which I can care. And yet, where am I to acquire things so I may care for them?”
“Very good questions, dear Steward. Very good questions indeed. And now I must leave you.” The Phaedra rose to his feet and adjusted his robe.
“Leave me! Where are you going, and what am I to do? How can you leave me here without helping me know what to do?”
“Oh, but you are very near to your answers. They all lie farther down this path just through these woods. Travel for one hour and you will find a crest overlooking the first land beyond here. It is called Petitzaros. There you will find the answers you seek. Stay there and do not venture any farther, for all you need to know from this journey can be found there. It is the most wonderful, magical place in the kingdom, and the king would have you seek all the answers to your questions there. Do not worry about journeying beyond, for after Petitzaros are only death and sorrow. No, my young Steward, hear my words. The answers you seek are all to be found in Petitzaros. And now you must continue on your own.”
Steward had little time to ponder these words before the Phaedra was gone. The evening sun was close to the horizon, and Steward wanted to get through the woods and find the vista before dark. So, with his satchel over his shoulder and a fresh drink of cider on his lips, he set his face toward the woods.
The terrain was not difficult, but as the light faded, each step became one of increasing faith as Steward struggled to make out the contours of the path. As dusk gave way to night, the woods seemed to close in on him. The once beautiful sounds of birds now took on an eeriness, and it made his skin crawl. He pressed ahead as fast as he could, and soon, to his great relief, he could see the path emerge from the forest.
Not far beyond the forest edge, the path climbed a short hill and rounded at a crest that offered the view promised by the Phaedra. Steward climbed with great enthusiasm until he was standing at the edge of the precipice.
He gazed down into the wide valley below, stunned by what lay before him. In the last glimmer of evening light, he could make out ten, no, twenty—no, wait!—it must be more than a hundred castles filling the valley floor. Each one displayed a flag of different color and shape, and no two castles were alike.
A kingdom of castles.
Petitzaros.
As the light faded and the castles below disappeared into the darkness, Steward found a smooth area on the forest floor and stretched out on it. Exhaustion from the emotions and physical work of the day settled over him. He opened his satchel and ate the meal his mother so lovingly prepared for him. She always provided just what he needed. He tore off a piece of the homemade bread and dipped it into the olive oil.
His first day had been a triumph. He’d learned the meaning of his name, and now he waited on the crest of his destiny.
I do wish I could have seen the king and his throne room, but I am at my destination. What more could I hope for?
Tonight he would sleep here, and tomorrow his journey would be complete. With this promise fresh in his mind, Steward lay his head on his satchel, pulled his cloak over his shoulders and fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~
Walter watched as Alex set the book down on the coffee table and rubbed his neck. “Well, that’s the first chapter.”
Reed got up to put two more logs on the fire. The room remained quiet.
Merideth swished the remaining cabernet in her fish bowl glass and broke the silence. “I never knew Dad could write so well.”
“And a fairy tale at that,” Reed said.
Anna looked at her dad’s empty chair. “Dad always loved a good illustration. I just wish he were here to tell us this story himself.”
Walter rested his hands on the arms of his chair. “I think he wants you to read this story as if he is here. Listen for him and hear his voice…and your mother’s.”
Anna nodded. “Dad and Mom often talked about what it meant to be a steward. I guess Dad is trying to tell us something in all of this.”
“Trying to tell me something, you mean.” Reed flailed the fireplace poker in a circular gesture. “After all, I am the one that spends money as fast as I make it, right?”
Alex sat up and flipped a few pages of the book. “I’m not sure Steward is meant just for you, brother. But it is curious that the story seems to indicate that a steward is just a person who makes and spends money carefully. That doesn’t seem to fit Mom and Dad’s views.”
Merideth leaned over and grasped the pages between her thumb and index finger. “Well, we do have nearly a couple hundred pages to go.”
Alex touched her arm. “And I would like to just listen for awhile. So, sister, how about taking a turn?”
“Fine, but if I’m going to read, I need a drink, and it probably should be water.” That drew a laugh from her siblings.
As Walter listened, he couldn’t help wondering, why had they spent so little time together over the past ten years? Alex had told him earlier that, other than their mother’s funeral, this was the only significant amount of time they had been together since Alex went off to seminary. What joy they’d missed. Maybe now…a new future could open up for each of them.
Walter looked at the book that lay open on the table. He knew what was coming, and he sat back and turned his heart toward heaven.
Dear Lord, open their eyes.
Merideth returned, took her place in front of the book and began to read.
chapter
Seven
Steward shielded his eyes against the sunlight shining on his face. He felt its warmth and sat up. The first rays of morning sun flickered through the leaves of the tall birch trees and splashed all around him. The crowing of a rooster in the distance made him smile.
He gazed for several moments down on the castles of Petitzaros then looked as far as he could up and down the valley. The
city and its castles filled the expanse and continued out of sight around a large ridge on the north side. The morning sun lit the roofs of the castles sitting at the westernmost edge of the city then swept its way eastward until the valley sparkled like jewels strewn out on a verdant green tapestry.
Could there be a more beautiful sight? Surely he would find the answers he was looking for in this wondrous place.
Steward prepared himself for his day of discovery. He finished the remaining food in his satchel, fixed the bag on his shoulder, and set his face toward Petitzaros. Before long, he was walking down the path that widened to a road leading to the city’s enormous set of gates.
As Steward entered through the gates, the noise and activity inside caught him by surprise. The streets were crowded with hurrying people, as if everyone was preparing for some great emergency.
What was the panic about? Or was it a panic at all? After watching for several moments, Steward got the sense that this was…normal.
People scurried into and out of the shops for no reason Steward could discern. Carts were driven down the streets at alarming speeds, and shoppers were shoving and pushing their way as they walked. Elbows, sharp comments, and not a “pardon me” to be heard. The intensity of the activity was mesmerizing.
He watched and then shifted as a growing sense of panic rose within him. In all this chaos how would he make his first acquaintance? How would he find someone who could help him discover the way he could live out the meaning of his name? He watched for an opportunity, and then it grabbed him.
Or rather, a hand grabbed his shirt, jerking him forward, thrusting him out into the bright morning sun.
“Oh, my dear fellow, how horribly poor you are, my dear, poor, destitute fellow!”
Steward caught his balance and shaded his eyes from the morning sun. He turned toward the voice to find a most unusual sight—a man dressed in fine silk clothes and sporting an enormous felt hat adorned with feathers and sequins. His voice was that of a boy, but his weathered face bespoke a man well advanced in age.
“What brought you to this lowly state, young traveler?”
Steward was too distracted to answer, for the man was hunched over under the weight of a large chain of gold rings fixed to gold-colored bands on each wrist. The mass of rings was flung over his shoulder.
Should Steward lift the chains and help the man stand upright?
The man shuffled over and picked at Steward’s shirt. “My dear boy, you must be starving to be dressed in this way. Come with me, and I will get you some food and proper clothes.”
“Thank you, sir, but I am really quite satisfied. I only came here to seek my destiny.”
“Nonsense!” The man struggled to lift his arms in the air under the burden of the chains. “Why, look at you. You have no…no…well, you have nothing to show for yourself.”
Steward looked around him. Everyone had a chain fixed to both wrists. The chains were of different lengths and shimmered as though made of pure gold. Those with shorter chains stood more erect, but those with larger chains were hunched like the man before him.
Perhaps a tyrant king had enslaved the city. “Why is everyone in chains?”
“Chains? Why, my dear boy, these are golden rings. They are precious—marks of distinction and prestige. And that is exactly your problem. You have not one ring. Why—” The man came closer and carefully pulled back Steward’s shirt sleeves to expose his bare wrists. “You have no Bracelets!”
A clamor erupted. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.
“No Bracelets? How could this happen?”
“A boy of his age? Imagine!”
“It’s unthinkable.”
“Something must be done with him.”
“Throw him out of town. He’s a freeloader!”
“Silence!” The man in silk struggled to lift his shoulders in what seemed an attempt to command more respect. “I will take this young man to Czartrevor. If you remember, he too came to us without the king’s Bracelets. He may know this lad and what we can do for him.”
“To Czartrevor!”
The crowd’s chant followed Steward as the man led him along the streets of Petitzaros. He considered resisting, but—
Could the Bracelets be part of his answer? Was the king here in Petitzaros? Would Steward meet him after all?
They arrived at an enormous castle that glowed in the sun like a tower of mirrors. Steward’s mouth gaped open. It was the largest castle he’d ever seen. Surely the king was in this magnificent place!
He turned to the man in silk. “Does the king live here? I have been sent to see the king. Can you take me to him?”
As soon as Steward mentioned the king, the atmosphere around him changed. Several Phaedra emerged, appearing out of nowhere. They walked among the crowd, speaking in hushed but urgent tones.
“The king is not concerned with the affairs of Petitzaros.”
“You must not bother the king with trivial matters.”
“Hasn’t the king left these affairs up to you?”
The man in silk shuffled forward and bellowed in as strong and authoritarian a tone as he could muster: “The king is not concerned with the affairs of Petitzaros. We will not bother the king with trivial matters such as these. Besides, hasn’t the king left these affairs up to us?”
Several in the crowd nodded. “Yes, he has, he certainly has. Well spoken.”
Others joined in. “We must not bother the king. No, not with these trivial matters. The king expects us to deal with these matters ourselves, and so we must.”
Steward watched them, shaking his head. They’re just mimicking the Phaedra. Can’t they see that?
The people around him gripped his arms and escorted him inside through a great portico with arches that seemed to reach the sky.
It was magnificent. This had to be the king’s castle.
The stairs led the small assembly up through the outer courtyard and into an inner chamber. Wood beams stretched across the ceiling, held up by marble pillars and adorned with gold-etched murals depicting scenes of luxury and opulence.
Steward could no longer contain himself. “Who lives here? It must be the king!”
The man in silk didn’t halt his labored pace. “Oh, a king does indeed live here.”
A king—? Steward stopped, stiffening his back and facing his escort. “Is he the king of Petitzaros? Please answer me straight. I must know.”
“King of Petitzaros? That’s a rich one.” The man managed a crooked grin and gave a thready, wheezing laugh. The entire assembly broke out in laughter.
What was so funny? Impatience stirred within him, and Steward was about to demand an explanation when a loud voice rang out from the far end of the great chamber: “What is all the levity about?”
The man in silk caught his breath. “Ah, Czartrevor. We have a visitor for you. One who reminded us of you when you entered this city so many years ago. Come and meet this unfortunate young traveler.”
Steward watched as the figure drew closer, and his mouth gaped. It can’t be…it just can’t be—
Before him was a hunched-over, rather obese man dressed in fine clothes who, like the others, had a huge set of golden chains thrown over his shoulder.
He’s old and gray, but he looks like—
The man looked back at him, studying him, then raised his hands as best he could beneath the weight of his chains. “I declare, Steward, is that you?”
“Trevor! Great Saints of Palindor, how did you…and when…and where did you get those—?”
Trevor began to laugh. Not a young boy laugh, but a wheezing, rasping laugh like an aging, tired man short on breath and hope. “I know. I know. It’s incredible, isn’t it? I left… what was the name of that old place?”
“Aiden Glenn! You have only been gone three years. How could you forget the name of your hometown?”
Trevor scowled. “Three years! Oh, no, you must be mistaken. I have been in Petitzaros for—my dear Czarrudolph,
how long have I been here?”
The man in silk rubbed his chin for a moment. “Oh, heavens, for years…decades, I believe.”
Steward shook his head and moved in front of Trevor. “No, Trevor, no! You only left Aiden Glenn three years ago, and….” He paused. “You were so young then. You were—are—the same age as me.”
“Impossible! My dear Steward, you have been traveling too long. Let’s not stand out here. Come in and be comfortable. Eat, drink, and relax. That is what this place is all about.” He adjusted the chains on his shoulder and began shuffling his way back into his palace. “Oh, Steward, I have so much to tell you. You’ll love this place. It’s a magical, wonderful land. I’m so glad you are here. What fun we will have. Come in and get changed into some real clothes.”
The man in silk called out. “Um, Czartrevor, if I may. We have a problem. You see, young Steward here, well, he has no…that is…he does not have….”
“Spit it out, man.”
“Bracelets. He has no Bracelets.”
Trevor tightened his wrinkled face, producing even more winkles. “Oh, dear. That’s right. I believe when I came here I had no Bracelets either. It has been so many decades ago that I had almost forgotten.”
“Three years. It has only been three years,” Steward muttered. He watched as Trevor—no, Czartrevor—walked through the assembled crowd and spoke with one of the Phaedra who, as usual, had just…appeared.
Steward frowned. How did they do that? Before he could form the question, the Phaedra nodded and left the room.
Czartrevor waved a hand at him. “Soon you will have your Bracelets, and all will be well. Now, on to the feast. What a party this will be. Imagine, good old Steward from Glenn Adair.”
Steward spoke through clenched teeth. “Aiden Glenn. You’re from Aiden Glenn.” His correction went unnoticed.
Most of those who had accompanied Steward to the castle of Czartrevor left with warm words of encouragement. Only about ten people, including Czarrudolph and his entourage, remained to follow Czartrevor into the banquet hall.
The Four Gifts of the King Page 8