The king's tears

This is another Rumi one

The symptoms of the exploding juices will be an expanding of no return, where the tumultuous concepts are blown away and the future is left open to beg.

Number 5 as a lightning bolt was climbing this stairs all the way to the top with her battle cry of: “All hail the King’s tears,” with the echoes of this coming back at her most frequently.

Her sister: cantaloupe Alice with the nick-name of Zazen couldn’t hear a word of it and just sat and stared into space in the lost workings of her mind. Her boyfriend would come around most days to cheer her up, but always left disheartened and would secretly cry when he got home.

The sky cast down on all this its blue smile and everyone mostly took some comfort from it.

The King in his castle hadn’t cried for a very long time, and although onions would bring on tears, nothing his wife or friends did would make him cry. His advisers told him that it was good that a King didn’t cry, that it showed he was not a weak ruler, but the king would have none of it, and so had sent out a proclamation to the effect that if anyone could make him cry he would grant them any wish they asked for.

Many came from far and wide, but so far none had made him cry, tears yes, but tears were not crying. The king wanted to cry tears of love or joy or sorrow. So every day many came and tried, and failed.

Some said the king was too old to cry and should forget it, but age has nothing to do with crying, and it was what he wanted.

The king felt to be in a soup, wading, as if all the negativity around him, that was coming from seemingly everyone was making him feel heavy and slow. The Queen was always nagging him and throwing anger at him for no reason. His advisers were always advising him right down to the smallest matter. And his friends were all too loud and drunk most of the time, and everyone wanted a tax rebate. It was enough to make you cry. If only he could. “Somehow I have to get away from it all,” he thought.

Number 5 as a lightning bolt finally made it there and saw the King with his head in his hands, sitting by him-self in a little alcove.

“Ah, the King,” said Number 5 to herself as she walked towards him.

The King was mumbling: “It’s all too much,” as Number 5 approached him.

“My King,” said Number 5, “I’ve come to make you cry.”

“Go away,” said the King, right on the verge of a huge sob that was beginning to come over him.

“But my King…” began Number 5.

“I can’t take anymore,” said the King, and stood up to run away.

“But I’ve come so far,” said Number 5.

“So far? What do you know about so far? Let me tell you about so far: I’ve got a kingdom to run and I have not cried in five years and it’s all making me feel that I can’t go on, and there’s no end in sight.” With this the King broke down and sobbed his heart out.

“Oh my King,” said Number 5 and went to the King and took him into her arms for a hug, and said: “there, there.”

It took a long time before the King had cried himself out and by then they both felt exhausted.

“Come with me,” said the King and led the way. Number 5 followed him into the castle to the bottom of a very big stairs.
“It’s late,” said the King. “For tonight you will be my honoured guest. Climb those stairs to the top and choose any chamber you want. Anything you need will be brought to you. We will talk again on the morrow. For now, I bid you goodnight with my most humble gratitude for saving me from a fate too dreary to name.”

“Goodnight my King,” said Number 5 and began the long climb to find a bed to sleep in.

In the morning, some while after the birds began their songs, Number 5 awoke in a magnificent bedroom and stretched into wakefulness.

“Come in,” said Number 5 as a light tapping sounded on the door.

Servants entered carrying a bathrobe and fine clothes for her to choose from to wear.

“The King offers you a very good morning and if it would please you could you join him at breakfast after your bath?” said one of the servants drawing the curtains to let in a stream of sunlight.

“It would be my pleasure,” said Number 5 thinking: what a wonderful beginning to the day.

After her bath, Number 5 was shown to the breakfast room where the King was already tucking in.

“Help your-self,” said the King motioning towards the foods on the table.

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Number 5, and filled a plate full of scrambled eggs.

“Breakfast is my favourite meal of the day,” said the King.

“Mine too,” said Number 5 sitting down to eat across from the King.

After a pleasurable breakfast with only some small talk in between mouthfuls the King sat back at his ease and picked his teeth with a small stick.

“Well,” said the King, “I owe you a debt of gratitude.

“It was nothing,” said Number 5. “Anyone would have stepped up when someone needs comforting.”

“But it was you that made me feel better. You were the only one who has been able to do that. By the way, how did you do it?” asked the King.

“Good timing I should think,” said Number 5, wondering if she should pick her teeth too in front of the King.

“Go ahead,” said the King seeing Number 5 eyeing the tooth picks.

A commotion of hand maidens and serving girls swept through the door followed by what must have been the Queen herself.

“Ah, I see you’re up,” said the King; and to Number 5: “Meet the wife.”

Number 5 stood as the Queen entered the room and carrying her battle axe.

“Hobnobbing with the commoners I see,” said the Queen, and sat down at the end of the table.

“Quite so,” said the King. “This is the woman who made me feel better.”

The Queen eyed Number 5 who was still standing, not sure what to do.

“Sit, sit,” said the King.

So Number 5 sat, if a little stiffly, and waited to see what would transpire.

“You’re a little early for breakfast my dear,” said the King.

“Just making sure you don’t give away the kingdom,” she said.

“Toast!” she commanded to the servants.

The servants ran to do her bidding.

“You! What’s your name?” said the Queen, looking down her nose at Number 5.

“Number 5,” said Number 5, wondering if she should stand and bow to her.

“What kind of name is that?” asked the Queen as her toast and cup of tea was put in front of her.

“It’s the name my mother gave me as Number 5 after 5 bolts of lightning flashed as I was being born,” said Number 5.

“Quite,” said the King, stifling the Queen’s next outburst.

“A good name for a … what is it that you do?” asked the King.

“I’m a smithy. I make plough shares mostly, and shoe horses,” said Number 5.

“But that’s a man’s work,” said the Queen.

“I grew up with boys who were all weeds, and so because I was the strongest my father taught me instead of them the trade of smithy.”

“Can you make swords?” asked the King.

“I dare say I can make anything if you give me the steel to make it with,” replied Number 5.

“There’s work for you here then if you want it. We can always do with a good sword maker,” said the King.

“I would be honoured to take that work,” said Number 5.

“Done then,” said the King. “You can start when you’re ready.”

“My King,” said Number 5 with a little bow.

“As to this other matter of you making me cry, well, I will honour my agreement. What would you like?”

“I ask nothing for myself, but my sister needs a physician, and so it is that I will ask for,” said Number 5.

“What ails her?” asked the King.

“She has not moved or said a spoken a word for five years,” said Number 5.

“Really?” said the King, not expecting a return reply. “That’s the same amount of time I didn’t cry. Strange indeed. Well then, I will send a carriage for her to bring her here and all my physicians will look into this,” said the King, standing up to leave the table.

The Queen remained silent through all this but was deep in thought.

Much later, as the evening drew in, the Queen was in her tower with the door locked and bolted from the inside. A liquid was just coming to boil in a container, a small flame beneath it, the steam bubbles rising quicker and quicker. She was speaking an incantation and holding a crystal over the container.

From the centre of the container a blue light began to form and swirl through the liquid and changing rapidly into a darkness that roiled over the top and down the sides. The flame sputtered out.

Using a tongs, she picked up the container and carried it across to the open window where she left it to cool down.
Then she unbolted the door and stepped out onto the landing, locking the door behind her with a big black key.

“Number 5, huh? What kind of name is that?” she said to herself as she went down the steep stairs muttering that no one was going to take her kingdom away from her.

Number 5 was with the King playing chess in the garden. They were discussing the morrow’s journey to the village. The King had decided to go too. So it would be a procession of the King, Number 5, a carriage and six guards, just in case.
“Tell me of when this ailment began with your sister,” said the King.

“She’d gone away seeking work, but after three months she came back on the back of a horse, slumped and unmoving. How she had stayed on I can’t say. We put her to bed thinking she was exhausted and that a good night’s sleep would see her right, but she never woke up. We’ve had to dress her, and feed her, and even clean her this last five years.

There’s nothing in her eyes, no spark. It’s as if she’s not there anymore. Then, when word came of your offer, I decided to come here and see what I could do,” said Number 5 staring at the chess board but not really seeing it.

“And glad I am that you came. For me it’s been five years of misery stuck in some heavy dream I could not wake from. But when you made me cry it all seemed to unblock and I was as I was before. And now your sister, afflicted for the same amount of time. I think it more than coincidence,” said the King.

“It does seem strange,” said Number 5.

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Tomorrow we will go get your sister and bring her back here and then we will see what the finest physicians can do for her,” said the King as he moved a pawn in a seemingly random move.

“I am in your debt,” said Number 5.

“Think nothing of it. It’s the least I can do, and wild horses couldn’t keep me from finding out what’s going on here.”

LOOKING FOR A HUSBAND.

And so the king brought Number 5’s sister back to the palace and after putting her on a diet of clean water for a week she came back to life and fell in love with the king and the king in love with her.

The Queen was eventually found out as the one who was poisoning everyone that she didn’t like and so had her head chopped off.

The king then married Number 5’s sister and they all lived happily ever after.

All except Number 5 who felt alone and wanted a husband too.

The king, on seeing how sad Number 5 was determined to find her a husband and looked around until he saw a man lurking about.

“OIY, Rumi?” said the king.

“Yes sire?”

“Marry this woman now.”

“Yes sire, straight away sire.”

And then they all lived happily ever after.

Images from Pixabay