The Four Gifts of the King

by R. Scott Rodin

  “What happened to your many chains?”

  His chains? Ah, the knight meant his rings. “The people there helped me take some of them off, which was hard to do. They told me that the rings were signs that I had chosen to love things instead of people. They said that only those who are not generous, who want to get rich and become powerful, get these rings. They told me that they were a curse.”

  The knight studied him. “Did you believe them?”

  “Yes, at first. They helped me get almost all of them off. And as they came off, my back grew straighter, my face got warmer, and it filled with color. It felt wonderful.”

  “What did they do with the rings?”

  He turned to face the knight. “That was a most remarkable thing. They seemed not to care about them at all. Here they had these rings of gold, and they just left them there.”

  “Go on.”

  “I spent a week at Remonant. It was a glorious week—until near the end. They told me the time had come to remove my bands. I asked them why. They said the king did not desire that we wear such ornate bands, but simple ones. I didn’t see why there was a difference. They all wore golden Bracelets. Mine were just larger and clearly worth more. But they insisted. It was then that I realized all they really wanted were the bands and the rest of my rings.”

  His hand fisted. The memory of their betrayal was as painful now as it had been back then. “I saw through their deception. They would wait until I had no bands or rings at all, then sell me as a slave. So that night I snuck out of the village with as many rings as I could carry. I ran all night, and only by great luck did I encounter a traveler on the road who took me back to Petitzaros.”

  “What happened when you got back?”

  What happened? Rejection. Humiliation. Did he need to relive this?

  “It was terrible. My friends saw my damaged rings and ridiculed me. Without my rings, I had no power to keep my palace or my place in the order of things in Petitzaros. I had to start over with what little I had and build my kingdom all over again.” Steward bit his lip and looked at his feet as the memory washed over him.

  The knight put a hand on Steward’s shoulder. “Have you forgotten how wonderful it felt to take off the chains?”

  Steward pulled away and sat down on a rock outcropping near the edge of the clearing. How could he explain this to a stranger? He couldn’t even sort it out himself.

  “Almost, yes, but not entirely. I mean, it still haunts me. I don’t understand how blessings like these rings can make one feel so good when they are discarded.” He was pleading now. His heart begged for some answers.

  “Do you know the answer to that? Tell me, Black Knight, can you really help me?”

  The man came and sat next to him. Neither spoke for several minutes. Then the knight turned toward him.

  “I have many answers for you, young Steward. But you must believe who I am and who sent me. First of all, my name is Zedekai. I know you are searching for the true meaning of your name. Here is mine. It means ‘the justice of the king.’ That is my calling, to see the king’s justice reign throughout his kingdom. Your journey is part of his plan. He claimed you from birth and sent me to see that your journey will not fail.”

  The knight leaned in toward Steward and pierced his soul with his gaze.

  “Now will you believe my words to you?”

  What else could he do? He’d come to see the king, and the king was not in Petitzaros. Questions were still pulsing through his head, but his heart found a moment of peace that he never knew in his little castle in the valley.

  Mother, Father, if this was the one to whom you pledged your word all those years, I must trust him.

  Steward met his gaze. “Yes, I will, good knight.”

  The knight smiled. It was the first time Steward had seen him do that.

  “Good.”

  Leaning back, Zedekai gave a nod. “Then here is the answer to your question. The rings are not blessings but curses. They weigh down those who seek to use the Elixir of Mah Manon only for themselves. Didn’t the Phaedra tell you that part of the meaning of your name was to be generous with what you have acquired?”

  How could the knight know of the conversation Steward had had with the Phaedra on the first day of his journey? “Yes, that’s what he said.”

  “Then why have you done so little for the poor and those in need? I rode through the area where they live. You had so much. Why did you share so little?”

  Heat filled Steward’s face as the answer came to him. “I…forgot about them, I guess. They were easy to forget about.”

  Zedekai pointed to Steward. “Steward, your chains were burdens, punishment for choosing not to ease the burdens of others. The more you spent on yourself, the greater the burden of the chains became.”

  Steward ran his hands along the rings making up the chain between his wrists. For the first time, they did feel more like links of a chain than rings of gold. Their weight had drawn Steward’s shoulders down and made his back ache.

  His friends’ voices echoed in his mind. “That is the ache of power.” But as he thought about it now, Steward knew they were wrong. It was just an ache.

  “I have spent every day in Petitzaros trying to acquire these rings, and now you tell me they are a curse, a sign of my lack of generosity and a mark of my guilt. How can I ever hope to see the king now?” Steward hung his head between his hands, and his face was buried in the fine silk of his tunic. How could he have been so wrong?

  Suddenly, he felt a movement. He looked up to see the knight standing— and picking up his scabbard! Zedekai pulled the sword out.

  What was he doing? Before Steward could pull away, the knight grabbed the chain, draped it over a rock, and lifted the giant sword high above his head. Steward closed his eyes and turned his head just as the knight brought his sword down in a mighty crash, sending bits of rock and rings flying into the evening sky. The sound was deafening, and pieces of the rings pelted Steward’s face. When he opened his eyes, he saw several rings lying in pieces on the ground.

  His once long chain had been broken into two shorter chains hanging from each wrist and reaching to about his ankles. Steward rubbed his wrists where the large bands continued to irritate his skin. “Can you take these off for me as well?”

  “That is all I can do for you.” Zedekai returned his sword to its sheath. “Only the king can remove the bands.”

  Steward leapt to his feet. “So I will see the king?”

  Zedekai tied a band over the hilt of his sword and secured it back on his saddle. “That’s up to you. I’ll put you back on the path, but you must make the journey yourself. Now come and take a last look.”

  The knight motioned Steward over to the edge of a cliff. As Steward approached the precipice, he frowned. This place looked familiar. Had he been here before?

  Of course! This was the very place he had slept the night before entering Petitzaros. And there it was beneath him—Petitzaros, bathed in the late afternoon sun. How amazing it all had looked to him that first night. Now, as the broken chains dangled from his wrists, all he felt was sorrow.

  Zedekai stood next to him. “How does it look to you now?”

  “Empty.”

  Steward turned and walked away.

  Zedekai followed him and pulled a bundle of clothes from a satchel. Steward changed out of his silk tunic and put on the simple clothes, clothes such as he’d worn in Aiden Glenn. Comfortable clothes.

  The knight wrapped the chains around each of Steward’s forearms, tied a lace of leather to the top ring, then fastened each in a loop just above the elbow. The long sleeves of his shirt covered the chains completely.

  “They’re heavy.” Steward lifted each arm above his head.

  “They will remind you every day of the decisions you have made. Now, climb on and let’s ride a ways before it gets dark.”

  Steward climbed on the great black horse behind Zedekai, and they rode for three hours until the sun disappeared fr
om the sky. They stopped and made camp. The knight produced a large satchel of meats, bread, oils, and wine, and they feasted together by the fire. After a long silence, as the fire and wine warmed Steward, Zedekai began to speak.

  “Tomorrow you will continue your journey. This path will take you through three more lands before you reach the throne room of the king. Listen now, young Steward. Each land holds a key to your destiny. There is much for you to experience and learn, but you must always be ready to continue your journey when the time comes to leave.”

  Steward raised a hand toward Zedekai. “How will I know when that time has come?”

  “There will be no doubt. You must trust me in this. It will not be like Petitzaros. The lure of Petitzaros is unique to that land. The other lands will not so entice you.”

  “Will you go with me?” Even as he asked, Steward surmised the answer.

  “I was sent by the king as one of your guardians. I will be watching, but this must be your journey. I can’t always be there to help you. But the king has more allies in the land. If you have trouble, look for his messengers. Remember, they’ll often come in unexpected forms.”

  “And colors.” Steward offered a repentant smile.

  The knight smiled back.

  Steward worked up the courage to ask the question that had been troubling him the most. “And what of the Phaedra? Are they evil or good?”

  Zedekai’s face tightened. “That is for you to decide. The king will likely ask you the same question, so seek the answer on your journey. It must come from you and no one else. Tomorrow, the path will be long and often steep. There’ll be water along the way and fruit trees to sustain you. Always keep to the path. You will have a full day’s journey to reach Ascendia by nightfall.”

  “Ascendia? Is that the next land on my journey?”

  “Yes, and when you arrive you are to go to the house of Bendor and announce yourself to the three sisters. They are expecting you and will give you food and lodging during your stay.”

  Zedekai laid a hand on Steward’s shoulder. “You’ve learned a great deal today, but much more awaits you. Now get your rest.”

  More what? Danger? Lies? Phaedra?

  Despite the questions that pressed on him, the thought of returning to his journey danced in Steward’s mind. I’m ready for this. I’m ready to see the king.

  Steward drew his cloak over him and fell into a deep sleep.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Reed laid the book down on the coffee table, leaned back, and gave a long sigh. Walter remembered when Sam wrote that last scene.

  “Will they hear the message?” he’d asked Walter.

  Walter was about to learn the answer.

  After several moments of silence, Anna reached over and pressed her hand on the book. “There’s a lot to digest here.”

  Alex looked at Merideth. “A land of kingdom builders. That’s pretty descriptive of the world I live in.”

  Merideth stood, stretching her arms and rubbing her neck. “I suppose that’s one way to depict greed. But there are a lot of questions the story leaves unanswered.”

  Anna shot a look at Reed. “Well, as you said, we have a long way to go with our friend Steward.”

  Walter watched as Reed walked over to his briefcase, opened it, and removed a large stack of papers.

  “You want a modern-day version of what Dad is talking about? Here they are: financial statements, parts of a business plan for a new restaurant, bills, invoices, and investment prospectuses.”

  Reed took the stack in one hand and lifted it up and down, measuring its weight. He spoke, mostly to himself. “Chains. Golden chains.”

  Alex reached down and patted his briefcase. “My stack is bigger than yours.”

  Reed gave him a slight grin. “The more you keep for yourself, the heavier the burden. The larger your own kingdom, the grayer life becomes. Dad couldn’t have been more clear.”

  Thank God for their honesty…but Walter worried about Merideth. She stood and placed herself between her brothers. “I don’t know. Steward seemed pretty happy in that palace. Mom and Dad never cared much for the finer things of life. I’m not yet convinced that golden chains are worse than no chains at all.”

  How did Merideth’s heart grow so hard? Dear God, open her heart to her father’s message. And to what is yet to come.

  Sam and Lori had struggled with understanding Merideth. For all the love they had lavished on her, they couldn’t understand why, almost from birth, she fought them at every turn.

  Watching Merideth now, a memory swept over Walter. Sam and Lori had been sitting at their kitchen table, rereading a letter Merideth sent them. She’d laid out her career plans and asked that they not speak to her again about what they thought of her choices.

  “Why is Merideth the last one to accept anything we say?” Lori shook her head. “She meets every blessing with skepticism, as if there’s a shield around her heart that keeps anything from getting in.”

  Sam had sat down beside her. “I don’t know, dear. But somehow we’ve failed her. We’ve prayed for her to find meaning and purpose in life, but she has become so driven by success that nothing tender ever seems to touch her.”

  Lori grasped his hand. “We can’t give up. God hasn’t! I pray she will find her way to real happiness, apart from the power that seems to pull at her. I want her to find peace and love.”

  Sam had nodded. “Lord, soften her heart toward others, and You.”

  Walter echoed Sam’s prayer now.

  As he watched Merideth’s defensiveness, he realized that, except for the moment when the four of them watched Sam’s casket lowered into the ground, he had never seen her cry. Even then, Walter wondered if her tears were more for show than from real emotion.

  Lord, soften her heart.

  He rose from his chair and walked toward the kitchen. “Perhaps we’ll find that young Steward has a third option. I’ve carried my share of chains in my life, and I was more than happy to lay them down.”

  “Oh, Walter, you’re just too good.” Merideth’s tone made it clear she didn’t wish to argue with him.

  Walter smiled and continued into the kitchen. When he returned, no one was talking. Silence seemed an acceptable refuge from the hazards of reflection and engagement. So be it. There was plenty more ahead. Plenty of time for serious soul searching.

  “Alex, I think the reading duties are back to you,” Anna said.

  Alex nodded and took his place in the seat in front of the open book. He waited for his siblings to settle then turned to the next chapter and read on.

  chapter

  Ten

  Steward awoke, alone and cold. He jumped to his feet.

  “Zedekai, where are you? Hello?” There was food left for him, enough for a full breakfast. But the knight was gone.

  Steward folded his bedding and ate part of the provisions. On the ground next to him lay a shattered gold ring. He picked it up and examined it, and deep inside the struggle started.

  Should I return?

  No! Leave now and don’t look back.

  He dropped the ring, bundled up his few belongings, and took to the path as though running for his life. And he was.

  He slowed to a walk as the worn trail wound through a thinly wooded area. Steward could hear water falling over rocks ahead, and when he reached the brook he filled his water pouch and took a long drink. The day was bright, with occasional billows of clouds giving respite from the warming sun.

  By midmorning, Steward came to a section where the path climbed and became steep. He looked ahead—it ascended to a high pass between two ridges. He worked his way up the hillside, and by noon he reached the pass. He was panting and sweating and much relieved to feel the ground level out under his feet. His legs ached, and he sat to catch his breath, thankful for a large cloud overhead that provided a few moments of cooling shade. As he regained his strength, Steward sensed a presence on the path. He turned—

  A Phaedra approached.

&n
bsp; Steward’s stomach tightened, and his pulse quickened. He’d never had this reaction to a Phaedra before.

  “Good day to you, young Steward. You have accomplished quite a climb.”

  “Hello…good Phaedra.” Why was it difficult now to call him that? “Yes, I am glad to be at the top.”

  Steward stood and resumed his walk. The path now meandered through a high meadow. The Phaedra walked along with him. Neither said anything for several moments, but as they continued Steward’s palms turned moist and his chest tightened. It was fear.

  I wonder if the Phaedra senses it.

  “Young Steward, may I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.” I will be courteous but cautious.

  “Were you happy in Petitzaros?”

  Careful. How to answer?

  “Yes, somewhat. Although I am happier now to be back on my journey. I don’t believe I was meant to stay there after all.” Steward let his tone register a hint of accusation.

  The Phaedra seemed unmoved by the response. His voice remained steady. “Did the knight tell you what you would do after you saw the king?”

  Zedekai’s words rang in Steward’s mind: “You will have to decide for yourself if the Phaedra are good or evil…and the king will ask you the same question.”

  He chose his words with caution. “No, but I expect the king will tell me.”

  The Phaedra was silent for a moment. “Will you do whatever the king asks and go wherever the king sends you?”

  Why would he ask that? Stay cautious. “Why, yes, of course. He’s the king, and I’ll obey him whatever he tells me to do.”

  He’d heard this line of questioning before, and it led him to Petitzaros. Not again. This began to feel like a trap.

  “Young Steward, do you know anyone who has ever seen the king?”

  Steward slowed his pace. “I only know the stories of the ancestors in Aiden Glenn. No one I know has ever been sent on such a journey as this.”