The People
“I present to His Majesty King Rhys, his beloved son Prince Aethelthom,” announced the court herald as the prince walked into the throne room with his head held high, displaying his perfect set of teeth in a smile, and glancing at the people of the court on either side of him to make sure they were bowing low enough.
The prince loved to spend his time amongst the people of the kingdom, and he liked to show them his God-given gifts in horseback riding, sword fighting, and hunting whenever he could. He was extra popular amongst the maidens of the kingdom, most of which had shared his bed and sired his illegitimate children.
King Rhys, sitting high on his throne, used two of his thin fingers to stroke his long grey beard in silence, as his son approached at a snail’s pace. The court always forgot how pale the king was, as he enjoyed showing his face to a book in his library more than he enjoyed showing his face to his kingdom. Despite the king not being seen much by the people, the king’s well-thought plans throughout his reign had given the kingdom the most prosperous years it had ever known.
The prince stopped before the steps of his father’s throne and bent the knee. “I am honored before you, father,” said the prince. “How may I serve you?”
“Rise, my son,” said the king. “I wish to speak of the future.”
“Ah,” replied the prince as he rose. “A subject that favors me.”
“How is that?” asked the king.
With a self-satisfied smile, the prince declared, “For the future is mine.” The whole court sprung to life with cheers and applause.
The king put his hand up to silence the court, and they simmered down. He then said, “Enthusiasm is a useful tool, but I hope you’re as keen with pragmatism.”
“Prince Aethelthom shall be the greatest king to ever grace the throne!” cheered a man from the court, and the rest of the court stirred up in a shout.
King Rhys raised his hand once again to silence the court. Once they were quiet he said, “That is exactly what I’m mean to discuss. The kingdoms of England have a bad habit of producing irrational kings who only seek power and who are only qualified by being the sons of their fathers.”
“But of course, father,” said Prince Aethelthom. “Who else would be worthy to rule the land than the bloodline set above the rest by the hand of God himself?”
“In my studies, I have learnt of an idea of a man to rule a land that is not based on blood but on merit,” replied the king. “My son, the old ways must end and we must usher in the new. You shall not succeed me as king.” The court had a collective gasp.
“Father, do you not think the old ways are old for a reason?” said the prince. “They work, as they always have. There is no reason to disrupt our prosperous kingdom for an idea from one of your dusty books.”
“My son,” said the king. “If you spent time learning how the world works you –”
“Father, you are the one who spends all your time shut away from the people, and I the one who lives amongst the living,” said the prince. “And do tell, who would be your choice for the new king in your world of merit over blood?”
“It will not be my choice,” replied the king. “It will be the choice of the people.”
The prince stared at his father for a moment and the court was silent with him. Then the prince burst into laughter and the court joined in. “Father, please,” said the prince. “Such hardy jokes can be no good for the heart. The people are uneducated and spend all day in toil. Their view of the world is simple, and their minds can’t carry the weight of large matters. How could they be fit to choose a ruler for our fine kingdom?”
King Rhys rose and yelled, “Enough, you fool!” The prince stood still and used all his strength to hold his indignation at bay, while the king continued at the prince, “You spend your days in sport and nights in the comfort of your whores. All you know of the world is the gossip spewed in the great hall. This is why the old ways must die. Men like you, if you can even be called a man. All shall change today. I will abdicate and let the people choose me as the leader of this land.”
“My King Father, have you gone mad?” replied Prince Aethelthom as if he were watching the man go up in flames. “You must see this will never work. I talk to the people, and I know they do not like the laws you impose on them. Most have never seen your face, yet curse your name. Do not give them the chance to turn against you.”
“I don’t know how I could fail this much in raising my own son,” said the king with the utmost contempt. “Like a child receiving the rod, the people may not appreciate the things I do when I do them, but they understand the benefits in the long-term. Once I abdicate and open the vote, the people will think of all the prosperity I’ve brought this land and vote me back into my ruling station so that I may continue my work. I know you fear this new order because it is one in which you shall never rule. The people are familiar with your ways and know you are not fit for any position other than a bard.”
The people of the kingdom cast their votes, and most of them were for Prince Aethelthom. He accepted the position and became ruler over the kingdom. King Rhys spent the rest of his years living a modest life in a small hut on a hill that oversaw his old kingdom, watching all his years of hard work decay.