The Fool

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a Kingdom, ruled by a King, and that King had
a series of Earls and Dukes and Viscounts and Barons that served under him, and too, those vassals
each had Bishops and Churchpersoners and Mayors that all served under them, and so on. Now, at
the bottom of this caste were the peasantry, those common people who all worked to serve the
King, their Country, and their God. Each day the people would go out, into the fields, and toil for
many days and long hours, driving wheat and herding cattle, and each night they would retire
into the taverns to drink, sing song, fight, and be merry. And each week, the King's usurers would
go out into the towns, and collect a tithe for the Kingdom. That was how it went, and no one had
much for question.

Now, in the King's court, there were, considered first, the King's family, which consisted of his wife,
the Queen, his daughters, the Princesses, his brothers, their sons, and all manner of drunken
cousins and uncles and greedy nieces and nephews. And after them, there were the King's
advisors, his Councillors, men who would advise him on diplomatic matters with other neighboring
kingdoms, his Stewards, men who were assigned to take care of the treasury, and the Court
Magician, who was assigned to assist the King on psychic and otherwise spiritual matters, as well
as offer expertise on practical holistic medicine, incantations, and so on. And the very last
members to be considered in the King's royal court...were the Entertainment.

And the first, and most notable entry on this list, and the character which this story concerns, was
the Fool, the Fool stood a mere 3 half-metres tall. No one had seen his face. He hid a yellowish
smile 'neath a dark hood. He had, from his time of lodging in the nearby valley of Northe's Peak-
had hired a gang of nearly 4 jugglers, two drummers, and 6 hired bodyguards at all times. And all
the King's men and all those in the King's court and everyone from around the local village came
to watch the Fool and his troupe perform, on this particular night. The crowd formed around the
makeshift stage in the middle of town, and were faced with a red façade behind the stage. And the
crowd gathered around this spectacle, until finally, one clown appeared, holding a bucket, and
another, running the opposed direction from the first, and, splashing him with- nothing. Many of
the people in the crowd laughed, and hooted and hollered. Then came the jugglers, who were
able to juggle many apples and tomatoes in sequential order. And the crowd liked this, and then
came the the dancers, and the trained monkeys, the spinning [plates] and the crowd was
engorged with these spectacles, all now happening at once, and the crowd became more and
more impressed and hooted and hollered, until finally, all this stopped, and a red carpet was rolled
out from behind the stage. And from behind that façade, from out appeared the Fool. Grinning
with yellow teeth, in the silence of the stopped production, he gaited, slowly, up to the front and
center of the crowd, where sat the King, above all his subjects, and the Fool walked up all the steps
until they were both greeted. "Your majesty, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my Lord," he
bowed. "I anticipated that these painterly displays be too gauche for someone of your refined
taste- I must admit- I am embarrassed to be performing in front of you." The King raised in his
chair slightly. The Fool continued, "If I may, I would like to offer you another experience." The Fool
sauntered over to the entrance of the nearby tavern. "What if I were to purchase this man's entire
establishment from him, and profit from the purchase as well?" The King scratched his chin. "Why,
that's outrageous!", the King boasted, "You'd have to see the profit from that tavern for-for- ten
months first, before you could hope to meet such a grandiose claim!" The Fool smiled, somehow
from my vantage point it almost looked even wider than before- "Then we have a deal! If I can
meet the profit of this man's food cart in less than ten months, what would you be willing to give
me?" The King laughed. "Hah! If you could do that, I'd be inclined to give you 1,000 pieces of
gold!" The King, unaware of the Fool already reaching for his hand, the crowd, all were privy to this
contract that was now being signed before us. The King and the Fool shaking hands, I can still see it now.

Days were slow in the town of Atavatia. I awoke one morning in my hovel to the sensation of water dropping on my face through the cracks in the wood of the roof. My hovel was a small shack in the residential district. The inside of the hovel cast everything in a middling, dark gray pallor. I blinked open my eyes and focused on the gray spade leaning on the other side of the wall from me. I laid there for a moment, water dripping on my face. I knew I would have to fix the roof. I was a horse-keeper, a stableman in the town, I raised and bred horses for the King, for his knights and squires, and for those with enough coin who had use for a steed. Around the side of my hovel were a long set of stables where the horses were raised. I got up and exited the hovel, the door making a low creak as I opened it, and went around to the stables. I heard whinnying as I approached and went into the long hall of stables. It seems the horses were scared by the rain. I shushed them, and brushed their manes for a while. I fed them carrots and whispered in their ear soothing things. Some in the town thought me mad for my habit of speaking to the horses. But none thought me as mad as Old Man Bones, who lived in a shack on the far edges of the town, far outside the residential district. I had some prescient understanding that if I let my eccentric behaviors get the best of me, that I would gain a similar reputation as Old Man Bones. Old Man Bones was the town mad man, he would march through the town square, raving about the end of the world, God's judgement day, and whatever else. I had scarcely ever interacted with Old Man Bones, except in passing. I recall one day, when Old Man Bones was marching through the square while I was there to pick up some carrots for the horses, he was ranting about God's judgement day, and in the middle of the square, he pointed his finger at me, and loudly declared, "he knows! He knows!"

The rain began to calm and I made my way into the town square, and as I did, I noticed that the town tavern, the Bumbling Bee, had been made to close early today, as I caught Marcus the taverner and his apprentice shutting close the wood blocks over the door and holding close to their hats as the wind threatened to blow them all away.
"Ho! Marcus!", I approached the taverner. "What goes here? Why is the tavern closing at such an hour?"
Marcus, a heavyset man, spat. "The King has ordered me to hand over its operation. To the Fool!", he spat again. "Apparently that slimey f*ck was serious about meeting my profits, and the King wants to see it through.", he spat a third time. "Really casts a cold air on an old codger just trying to make a living! I say...", he continued muttering to himself, cursing in the rain as he ordered his apprentice to board up the door. I continued on to the square, where I met my friend Daucus, a fur trader who sold his goods at a cart in the town square. I knew Daucus since we were children, we would all play together, me, Daucus, and Mary-Beth, running around the town like little tyrants, playing tricks on the Constabulary, stealing pies from off of window-sills. We created our own little world in those days, playing in our kingdom of infinity deep in the plains and in the tall grass, in places we weren't supposed to go. After we grew up, Daucus and Mary-Beth were married, and spent several happy years together, until Mary-Beth grew ill, and eventually succumbed to her illness. It's strange, Daucus was always the same boy, playing captain of the ship out in the fields of grass, until that day. Until that very day that Mary-Beth was gone from us. Daucus had since settled into his father's tradition of fur-trading, and had begun the long slouch into his own oblivion. Ever since Daucus had known death, there was a different Daucus in his place. Daucus was a short, somewhat stocky man, who was completely bald, and had a tattoo of a snake on the back of his brown head.
"Hail!", I hollered as I approached him, standing at his cart full of various furs.
He quietly nodded as I approached.
We repeated the same routine we practiced as we saw each other every day.
"How's business?", he asked me.
"Doing well as ever", I replied, and pondered for a moment.
"The horses were scared by the rain today. I had to brush them for hours until they calmed down. I've never seen them so scared before."
"Funny. Did you speak to them, as well?"
I paused for a moment, then confessed.
"I did."
"You've got to stop doing that. The people in town have already begun to speak strangely about you."
"I know. I just feel that it soothes them, they become calmer when I do. Sometimes I feel they can understand. Call it a stableman's instinct."
"Now, you stop that talk right there.", Daucus interjected.
"The horses can't understand you. You simply have got to stop that sort of talk."

Perhaps the one aspect of my mind that set me apart from others in the town was the fact that I was literate, I could read. No one else in town, not even Daucus possessed this ability. I was completely self-taught, as my father, in addition to being a stableman, liked to collect old books in his spare time, although he himself could not read, he found some value in them, and when he died, left his entire collection to me. As a young man, I had much free time to myself, as I do today, which I used to teach myself to read by way of this large, strange collection of tomes that had been left to me. I learned to tell the difference between fiction and non-fiction, I learned of the ancient city of Rome, and of its great heroes, Hercules, and Odysseus, I learned of the philosophy of great thinkers, Plato, and Aristotle, I learned of Platonic forms and Aristotelian logic. Back in my hovel, there was a small room dedicated to my library I had inherited, and when traders came along to the town, I was always first to check if they had any new tomes for sale.

Nightfall brought a hush over the town, without a tavern to pay patronage, the people had no outlet to relax and commune together. I resolved to visit Daucus that night, and as I made my way through the town by candle-light, I noticed that people spoke in hushed tones, pointing and shutting doors as I made my way. First, I thought they were pointing at me, and, confused, I turned around, and spotted him again. The Fool. His dark hood obscured his face in the night, and my candle was not close enough to illuminate him. He was standing in front of the tavern, and Marcus the taverner was spitting and explaining something to him in grave detail. I watched as The Fool merely nodded his head, and Marcus opened the door, and let him in.

I made my way to Daucus's home, a stately cottage on the far side of the residential district from me, and knocked on the door, still holding my candle in the night. A low creak of the floorboards, and Daucus opened the door and led me in. Some nights, either after a night of revelry at the Bumbling Bee, or upon a night like this when the Bee was closed, Daucus and I would spend the night at his home, drinking and telling tales. Despite Daucus's disapproval of my more eccentric habits, Daucus always revelled when I would tell him tales of the old world, of the ancient city, of the heroes and great men who populated it. Daucus led me through his home and we both sat down in his dining room, on chairs in front of a wooden table. There were always three chairs in here, one for me, one for Daucus, and one for Mary-Beth. And for years now, that one chair had remained empty whenever I visited, empty in remembrance of our friend and Daucus's great love. We sat and drank wine from Daucus's small collection. I found a book I had left here for Daucus, although Daucus could not read, he liked to look at the illustrations. We laughed as I told my tales.
"And I tell you, Hercules' arrows were useless against the lion! Not one arrow would penetrate its' thick skin! Hercules chased the lion to a cave, where there were two entrances. Hercules blocked off one entrance, and faced the lion in the other. And do you know what he did then, old Daucus? He grappled with the lion, struggling against its vicious teeth and sharp claws! And then, he grabbed hold of the lion's throat, choking him until it was no more!"
Daucus gargled and raised his cup of wine in the air.
"Three cheers for Hercules!", he sputtered out.
We spent the night like that, regaling tales from the old book I had left in his house, Daucus gargling in his stupor, engrossed in the stories I told him. We went on like that until we were both well good and drunk, and passed out in the quiet night.

The next day it was still raining, much to my surprise. I got up and saw the Daucus was still sleeping, tucked into his bed safely. I grabbed the book and stepped outside. The rain was still going, just a drizzle. I approached the town square and saw Old Man Bones, in his tattered robes, proselytizing with mad eyes in the middle of the square.
"Stop now, and the God of the Sea, the God of War, the God of Pestilence will spare you! Stop, and heed my call, so that the God of War might spare you! The f*cking cripples and the bastard-children cry out at night, I hear them too! I hear them, too! The Four Horsemen, Conquest, Death, Famine, and the Rape of Lands, they will f*cking get you too-", I walked around the far side of the square, not wanting his gaze to catch mine.

I walked back to the other side of the residential district, back to my hovel, and back to the stables. I checked on Buttercup, my prized horse, her golden-brown fur and golden mane shimmering brightly in the morning mist. She, along with the other horses, ten in total, seemed less scared than yesterday. I hushed and whispered to her, telling her she was a good horse, feeding her an apple.

One of the King's men entered my stable, holding a parchment.
"Are you the man who owns this stable?", he questioned, without lifting his eyes from the parchment.
"I am."
"Excellent. I am here to announce that the King has summoned you to survey your horses. You are to take three of your best horses to the King's castle, to be assessed by the King, for which your compensation will be discussed upon your arrival."
"That is fine. When should I do this?"
"Now."

Me and the King's man rode on two horses, with one other horse in tow, up along the side of the town, past the town square and the residential district, up to where a long set of stone steps led up to the King's castle, an enormous, gaudy construction which overlooked the entire town. Two enormous towers with battlings stood on both sides of the construct. A large wooden drawbridge stood between us and the entrance. The King's man hopped off the horse, and drew a horn and loudly blew into it, composing a regal theme.
"Let us in, stableman's here with horses, here for inspection by the king, let us in!"
The drawbridge slowly began to lower, until it was halfway drawn, and then sharply dropped the rest of the way with a thick thud. I rode Buttercup in, with my two other horses in tow, across the drawbridge, which led to a wide open area where a litany of guards stood, lining the path from the entrance of the gate to the entrance of the castle.
"Wait a minute", a guard stopped me and spoke in a thick, dumb-sounding accent.
"You haven't got any weapons on you 'r nothin'."
I shook my head. "Haven't brought any."
"Awright. Y'er free to go. King's inside just that'a'way."
The door sprang open and I rode Buttercup inside, ducking my head under the low arch, and was greeted by a long, red carpet, going all the way from the entrance to the King's throne, with a long table where sat the King's knights, all gathered around, most in armor except for their helmets, and the King sitting at the far end of the table. They all turned to look at me.
"Welcome!", the King exclaimed, and hopped up to come greet me.
"I hope my herald and guards did not give you too much trouble. You are the stableman who lives at the far end of town, yes?", he reached up to shake my hand.
"Wonderful!", he exclaimed. "You have been told the nature of our meeting, yes?"
The King was a tall man, with a dark beard with gray flecks in it, he wore a long red coat with a white trim with black polka-dots which still stretched almost all the way from the entrance where he now stood, to the far end of the table.
I nodded my head.
"I was told you wanted to look at my horses."
"Yes! I am in need of a new steed as my most trusted one has fallen ill, and will most likely have to be retired." The King looked around, as if to check no one was looking, and made a slitting-throat motion with his finger.
"Ghhk."
"I'm very sorry to hear that, my liege. If my prized Buttercup ever fell ill, I don't know what I would do. I'm very close to these horses, you know."
"Yes, very close, very close to the horses...", he scratched his beard and looked deep in thought.
"Yes, well, let me get a look at her. This one, Buttercup, yes?", he patted her hide.
"Oh, she runs like the wind, sir."
"Yes, she looks a strong sort. She'll do fine, yes, yes. And no history of inbreeding? We've had some troubles with that in the past."
"No, sir. All my horses were bred with my full involvement."
"Excellent. Yes, she'll do just fine.", the King, still patting Buttercup's hide.
"Lautilde!", he motioned for one of his knights sitting at the long table.
"Lautilde, please take this horse to our stables, yes, that'll do."
"Wait a minute", I pulled back on her reigns. "I was told there was payment involved."
"Payment, payme- oh yes, your payment", the King sputtered. "I am prepared to offer you no less than 60 gold pieces for this beautiful steed!", the King smiled sheepishly.
"60 gold pieces? My liege, I can give you this steed for no less than 200 pieces, she is worth more than that, no doubt."
"Well, let's meet in the middle somewhere, 100 gold pieces, how does that sound?"
"My liege, I think perhaps you don't understand. I could sell this steed for no less than 300 gold pieces, easily, perhaps more, in one of the neighboring villas. 100 gold pieces would be an insult to a steed such as this."
A guard dragged me off the horse as we continued our bartering. The King cleared his throat.
"My boy", he clasped me by the shoulders.
"I know that you are well-read. A student of history, they told me. I know that you can empathize with the comings and goings, the dealings of a fiefdom such as this. Think about it this way, my boy, you are investing in the future of this kingdom. A future which is ripe, which has much to still give the world!"
"Investing?", I asked.
"Investi-? Invest- oh, yes, investing! You'll be investing in the future of the kingdom which rules over this land! How does that sound?"
It didn't sound good, but one of the King's men was already leading Buttercup out toward the stables, and the King had already placed a small sack of gold in my hand. 100 pieces.

That night, it began. Much of the murmuring and whispering around the town had begun to center on the nature of the Bumbling Bee's new temporary business model, and its clandestine operation being run by the Fool. Some said the Fool was going to give away all the drink for free, others said the Fool was going to poison us. But sure enough, when nightfall began to set on the land, a crowd began to form around the entrance of the tavern. Its sturdy doors opened. Me and Daucus tried to peer over the clamor and commotion of the crowd. I caught a glimpse of him, standing behind the bar, his face still obscured by his hood, revealing only a yellow smile. The crowd began to ramp up as the entered the bar, and a large line stood waiting to order their drinks. I noticed that the Fool was writing something on a piece of parchment paper, stopping to jot something upon each order by each new customer.
"Do you see that, Daucus?", I whispered to him. "He's writing something down. What do you think it means?" Daucus shrugged. Finally, it was our turn. As we approached the bar where the Fool stood, his hood still obscuring his face, I could see his was still smiling. A grinning, joyless smile.
"We want two bottles of Honey Brown Ale!", Daucus shouted.
"Ah, wait just a moment, my friends.", the Fool spoke slowly, in a calm, almost soothing tone.
"Would you like to be added to the membership? If you do, you will be eligible for all manner of rewards", he smiled.
Daucus scratched his head.
"Membership? Rewards? I don't see why not."
"Wonderful", the Fool replied, "it costs only ten pieces to join, which you will be charged with upon each visit."
"That's okay, just put us down on the list."
We drank that night, and were merry with the barmaids, with no knowledge of our mistake.

It rained the whole week. Occasionally, the rain stifled into a soft drizzle, but it never stopped. It was strange. I had never noticed such unusual weather patterns before. Life went on as usual in the town, with the farmers tending to their crops, traders selling their wares in the town square, and the Fool. The Fool manning the bar in the tavern, each night, asking us to sign up for his membership, each night, the fee for entry rising more and more. Until one night, as me and Daucus stepped into the bar.
"Stop right there.", the Fool ordered. "Are you signed up for our membership? No membership, no service."
"No membership no service?", Daucus repeated. "This isn't how it was before. I thought the service was optional."
"It was optional, but in order to keep this business afloat, and in the interest of providing a fair and optimal atmosphere, we must ask that you sign up for the membership. It's twenty gold pieces."
Daucus looked confused. "Did they all sign up for the membership?", Daucus pointed to the crowd of patrons huddled around the tavern.
The Fool nodded. "They did." Daucus reluctantly pulled out twenty-four gold pieces, twenty for the now-obligatory membership, and four for a drink. I reached into my sack, and...nothing. I pulled out only eight gold pieces. I showed them to the Fool.
"Sir, I have not enough for a membership."
"That's alright.", the Fool eyed me slightly. "I think I have another opportunity that might be of interest to you."
The Fool led me around to the back of the tavern, into a small room where there were a table with a small parchment, lit only by candlelight.
"For those who cannot pay the membership, there is another membership for which I can offer you. The membership is a lifetime membership, and once signed, cannot be forfeited, except by death. Do you accept these terms?"
I was hesitant. I wasn't sure what to say. But something in the Fool's gesture, something he must have signalled to me made me nod my head.
"Good.", he sorted various pieces of parchment.
"This membership is to my retinue of men. If you choose to join us, you will learn the art of sword-handling, of horseback-riding, and of poetry. How do you find these terms?"
Again, I was hesitant, but something the Fool seemed to be doing beckoned me to agree with them.
"Good. My retinue meets in the morning. 8'o clock sharp. Oh, and if you sign, but do not show up, my retinue will find you."
A chill runs down my spine.
"Sign here", he instructed as he placed a parchment in front of me, on which I could see a contract was written.
"Wait a minute", I said. "I want to read what's written on here."
Suddenly, for just a moment, the Fool looked surprised, uncharacteristically taken back.
"You can read?"
"Yes."
The Fool composed himself.
"Well, very well, but I think you will not find anything written on this contract which I have not already stated."
I took a long look at the contract, with the Fool just sitting there, waiting for me to finish and sign, I could feel him beckoning me, to hurry up and sign. The contract stated that once signed, no one could leave the retinue, upon pain of death!
"I-I- I don't think I can sign this", I sputtered.
"Oh, but you can", the Fool replied.
I stared at the section where I was supposed to sign for a long time, where I saw the signatures of many other men. I gulped.
"No, no, I don't think I can", I got up from the chair.
The Fool just sat there. As if beckoning to me. There was something he was doing, I couldn't put my finger on it, but *something in his demeanor I felt to have some influence over me.*
"Stableman", the Fool said. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You will not want to miss this. And, in time, you will be payed. Handsomely."
I sat back down and looked at the parchment. I nearly covered my eyes as I signed.

The next day, I awoke in my hovel, that same drip-drop patter of raindrops onto my face. I've got to fix that roof. I had almost no memory of the previous night's events, which I guessed must have contained much revelry, and much chasing of barmaids between myself and Daucus. I thought about the bar, the tavern...the contract! I jolted up in my bed. Was it eight o' clock yet? I stormed out the door, and almost ran directly into someone wearing plated armor. Not a king's guard.
"You the stableman? Fool sent for you", he spoke in a stupid accent. He led the way past the town square, past the residential district, and led me to the stone steps to the King's castle, stopping me before the first step, where the Fool sat, on horseback, in front of a large retinue of what must have been no less than fifty men, some from the town, some from elsewhere.

"Oh-ho!", hollered the Fool up the steps to the castle.
"I have fulfilled my promise, oh wise King! I have returned investment on the tavern nearly tenfold! Now, I wish to see my payment, as was promised! One thousand gold pieces!", he cried.
The King peeked his head over the battling lining the left tower.
"Ah! I see you have come to collect your payment for our...theatrical display? My friend, this was all theatre, was it not? We played a good show and gave the people what they came to see, be happy in our production!"
The Fool grinned and tapped his sword harshly on one of the stone pillars.
"Ah! I see you have decided to use the play-acting defense in our assessment of the deal! No matter", and I heard the Fool whisper, "we will make good in our own way."
The Fool gestured to his men, and I jumped back as they fired flaming arrows up into the castle. The drawbridge fell open, as King's guards fled out, clanging steel against steel, but they were outmatched, what I guessed to be somewhere around twenty-five against the Fool's retinue of nearly fifty. One of the Fool's men stuck one of the King's men, running him right through, and I heard the King shout for the men to stay back, and the King's men walked backwards, and were encircled by the Fool's men. The Fool, on horseback, his dark hood still obscuring his face, making this grand meeting with the King. He told his men to halt, and the fighting stopped, and the Fool rode up to meet face-to-face with the King.
"What is it? What do you want?", the King sputtered out.
The Fool spoke only one word, and that word was "more", as he sliced the King's head and took it as a trophy, lifting it up, and rallying to his cheering men.

After the dust settled, no one person could agree on what happened. For years after this event, the town's populace would say this was the day Satan came to take what was his. I was in shock, could not speak. The Fool's retinue expanded, giving the King's men the option of joining him, or death. Most obliged. The Fool sat on the throne and leaned his head on one hand, as scantily-clad women offered him grapes. The next several days were spent getting the towns-people to recognize their new master. The Fool beckoned to me, one day, and said, "stableman, you will be the one in charge of documenting my affairs." And that was that. I was there in the room when the Fool stood over the map of surrounding nations, and made plans with his men, now nearing the hundreds, to make pilgrimage to the next Kingdom, the land of Bohemia.