The King's Choice

                                                          By Eliza Brooks

 

In a time long ago, in a kingdom far away, there lived a king, King Charles the Second. The king was one day in his quarters looking out of his window. He was worried. He knew a war was coming. Another kingdom had sent him a letter proclaiming war until he surrendered.

Another war. There had been non-stop war with one country or another since the day Charles was born.

Hi wife Clari came in and kissed him. “It will be all right, Charles,” she told him. Charles nodded, but wasn’t so sure.

“I’m going out riding now, dearest,” he said.

The young king rode through the dark forest until he came to his favorite spot in the woods. There was a great oak tree, and right at the foot of it was a stump. You could sit on the stump and lean against the tree.

The king sat down and thought. And thought. And then quite suddenly, the king said out loud what he had been thinking for three long years.

“I want to die.”

Then he thought, “I could lie here for hours, just sleep my peaceful time away in the woods . I’ll be gone, and the throne can go on to a better ruler than me.”

So the king took a dagger from his belt, parted his clothes at his chest and held the blade up. He was just about to drive the blade home when a voice spoke right behind him.

“Are you really going to be that foolish, you silly ass?”

Startled, the king lowered the blade and turned around. There, standing in front of him was a young man about the age of himself, dressed all in white.

“Who are you and why are you watching me?” asked the king.

“I am your guardian angel. I always watch you,” replied the stranger. The king stared for a moment and then said, “Don’t try to deceive me. I know angels have fluffy wings and a glowing circlet on their heads.”

The stranger frowned. “Don’t believe me, huh? Well guess what smarty pants. We don’t use our wings down on earth and we don’t show our halos either.”

“Your speech is strange,” said the king, “and I believe that you are lying.”

“What?” said the angel. “You think I just randomly decided to put on a white suit and prance around like part of a renaissance festival?”

“I know not of what you are  speaking,” said the king.

“Oh forget it,” said the angel. The point is that you were going to take to take your life, and that’s one of the dumbest things you can do.” The angel paused. “Actually,” he said, “I think it is the number one dumb thing you can do.”

“I believe a man may choose what to do with his own life,” replied the king.

“Oh never mind that,” said the angel. “To prove to you that you should not take your life, I am going to take you on a little trip to the future to see what the lives of some people will be like one or two years from now if you take your life now. Take my hand,” he said, as he held it out.

The king, who was sure he was crazy and only imagining the angel, figured it would do no harm. He held out his hand and the angel took it.

“First,” said the angel, “We are going to take a peek at the future life of your cousin, Richard.”

“Richard,” said the king. “He and I were always enemies. We never agreed on anything.”

There was a rustling of wind in the trees and then the king found himself standing with the angel in his very own throne room. But seated on the throne was his very own cousin, Richard.

“What is Richard doing on the throne?” the king cried out. “The throne and the kingship, if I was dead, would go to my little son Edmund.”

“Just listen,” answered the angel.

All the people in the room seemed to take no notice of them. Some even walked right through them.

A man approached the throne, and Richard asked, “It is done?”

“Yes, my lord,” was the answer.

“And the same will happen to anyone who else that chooses to interfere with me,” yelled out Richard to all the room.

“What are they talking about?” asked the king.

“You will see,” said the angel. “The next person’s future you will see will be your favorite minstrel minstrel, Leinon.”

“Leinon! Why he is like a relative to me almost,” said the king. The angel said nothing. There was a rustling sound again and the king found himself standing on the outside of the castle wall. It was night. Suddenly the king noticed two people on the grass.

One was his minstrel, Leinon. He was lying on his back and his face was deadly pale and full of desperation. His eyes were shut tight.

The other person was a girl dressed all in white. She was kneeling down and stroking Leinon’s forehead. She looked up at the king and he angel. She appeared to see them but didn’t seem to care much. She went back to solemnly stroking Leinon’s forehead.

“Who is that girl?! And what has happened to Leinon?” the king cried out.

The angel spoke solemnly. “She is his guardian angel, and he has been poisoned by the man you saw talking to your cousin. It was Richard who ordered it, you see.”

“But why?” asked the king in anguish.

“He must have got into his way, I suppose,” answered the angel.

Leinon’s angel leaned down and whispered in his ear.

“What did she say?” asked the king.

“Words of comfort, no doubt,” said the angel.

“Will he die?” asked the king.

“I don’t know,” said the angel. “I can’t read the future, you know.”

“But you had the power to bring me to the future!” yelled the king.

“I didn’t do this,” said the angel quietly. “God did. I am just your guide.”

One tear fell from the king’s eye and landed on the grass.

“Come,” said the angel. “I must show you something else.” He took the angel’s hand and found himself in a deep dark dungeon with a girl hunched up crying into her hands. She was dirty and unkempt and her dress was all torn and tattered. She sat up and took her hands from her eyes. She was looking in his direction, but she clearly did not see him.

Then the king gasped. It was his daughter Ellisa! The king cried out in horror. “My own Ellisa!” He tried to take her in his arms, but his hands went right through her.

She kept crying and a guard on the other side of the bars began to bang on them with a big stick.

Ellisa screamed like she was mad. She fell on the ground and screamed and screamed, every now and then calling out, “Father! Father! Help me!”

“Please!” the king cried to his angel, “please take it away! I can’t stand to hear it and not be able to help her!”

“Very well,” said the angel, and Ellisa and the guards simply vanished. They were now standing outside the castle. “Come”, said the angel. “I have another thing to show you.”

”No more! No! No! Please, no more!” begged the king.

“One more,” said the angel. Then the king found himself in a lonely old graveyard with three grave stones standing before him.

The king looked I horror at the names on the stones. They were: “Clari the First,” “Edmund the Third,” and last of all, “Charles the Second.”

Now he knew why Richard was king. His wife and his beloved son had been murdered. They were dead.

“No! No!” cried the king. “How could this happen?”

“It happened because of you,” said the angel, “because you’re dead too. You killed yourself.”

“Oh please,” cried the king, “I didn’t mean it.” He fell face down on the ground. “I didn’t want this!” He began to weep.

“Very well,” said the angel. “Here we are, back where we started.”

The king looked up and found that they were back in the woods. The angel was standing there. He held an object in each hand. In one he held the king’s dagger. In the other he held a white handkerchief on which the word “life” was embroidered with gold thread.

“Choose,” said the angel. “Life or death.”

The king reached out and took the handkerchief. Instantly the dagger vanished. “Good,” said the angel. “Now always remember that nothing really belongs to you, not even your life, because it was all given to you as a gift from God. And what you do with your life affects everyone around you. Good luck!”

And then a smirk came onto the angel’s face, and the king saw two fluffy wings come out from his back and a gold glowing circle appear on top of his head. Before the king knew it, he took off and disappeared into the clouds.

 

                                                The End