The Closed Book

Once upon a time, there lived a great and wise king named Augustus Horatio. He ruled his kingdom with justice and fairness, and during his reign all the people prospered and the kingdom grew in wealth and happiness. In the sparkling palace, even servants sang as they did their tasks, proud to be part of the King’s household.

But it was not always that way in the royal household, nor was it always a happy kingdom. The great and wise King Augustus was once the foolish Prince Augie. Prince Augie was known far and wide as the stupidest child ever born to the royal household. He was inept in battle, a buffoon in the dining room. His school work was almost non-existent as all the royal tutors had quit when he was a small child and dedicated themselves to copying old manuscripts in a remote monastery. Prince Augie, you might assume was a prankster and problem child, but that would be a mistake. He was not clever enough to think up pranks, nor to think up ways to be a problem. It was enough that he existed. And it was worse that he was his parents’ only child, so one day would surely ascend to the throne. The whole kingdom despaired of the day when that would happen.

“Whatever shall we do?” moaned Augie’s father as he watched his son pile blocks on top of each other in the nursery. Augie was then 16 summers old and the only task he could do successfully was build small buildings with the blocks in the nursery. Augie’s mother let a tear fall as she looked at the child and squeezed her husband’s arm.

“There is no choice,” said his mother. “He is sixteen summers old and must prove himself worthy of the throne. He must be sent on a quest.”

Both parents then wept, for they loved their stupid son and felt certain a quest would be the death of him. Yet it had to be done and so they sat in council to determine what quest they would set their son about.

“He should slay a dragon,” said the minister of the army. “Only then will people believe that he is brave and clever enough to rule them.”

“There has not been a dragon in this country in centuries,” said the minister of farming. “It would be senseless to send him on such a quest. He should be sent to retrieve a rare fruit from a mountain lake guarded by a sea monster. He would have to show his cleverness by outwitting the monster and his care for the people by bringing back a new source of food.” There were nods from around the table until the minister of literature spoke up.

“Rare fruits are only revealed when there is some dire emergency, according to the stories,” said the minister of literature. “Someone must be dying and need a drop of dew from the mystical flower or some such, or there is no point in the quest.”
“It makes no difference,” said the King. “None of these things would be possible for my son. I will only accept a quest that is within reason for a lad of his er… experience.” That caused a great silence to fall on the council chamber as everyone tried to think of a task that was within his grasp.

“It’s no use,” said the minister of the army at last. “We can scarcely send him to the market to fetch an egg. No one would believe that was a great enough task to prove his worth as a king.”

“Ah,” said the minister of literature, “but a simple task might be made to look much more difficult. “We should send him to Quentin Renault.” There was great silence. Quentin Renault had been the last of Prince Augie’s tutors who fled to the monastery over four years ago, frustrated over his inability to teach the young prince.

“And why would this be a worthy quest?” asked the minister of farming. “Is it simply to find a man who does not want to be found by the boy?”

“No,” said the minister of literature. “Actually it is because Master Renault took one of my favorite books with him to copy at the monastery. He promised to return it soon, but I fear now that I shall never see it again. Prince Augie should be sent to the monastery to retrieve this rare book and bring it back to the royal library where it belongs.”

“I fail to see how that shows his cleverness or his bravery,” said the minister of the army. “It is still gathering eggs from the market.”

“Yes,” said the minister of literature, “but the pen is mightier than the sword. It will take Prince Augie several weeks to make his way to the monastery and back. In the meantime, we can create adventures that he ‘might’ have had and send them back on his behalf. Each week, we will gather the people to read the latest missive that will tell of Prince Augie’s great adventures. By the time he returns, he will be a great hero in the eyes of the people and they will be ready to accept him as their crown prince.”

The King and Queen were pleased with this solution. The journey to the monastery was a long one into remote mountains, but it was comparably safe. And so it was decided.
On the sixteenth anniversary of the Prince’s naming day, there was a great celebration. Musicians played all the prince’s favorite music. Cooks prepared all the prince’s favorite food. When the feast had been prepared and all had eaten, the King called his son before him. The ministers of literature, farming, and the army were called forth to describe the majesty of the quest that Prince Augie was to undertake.

“Our son,” said the King, “is preparing to take his place as rightful heir to the throne.” There were some groans among the people at these words, but Prince Augie assumed that was because they had eaten too much. “As is traditional,” the King continued, “he shall undertake a quest of great danger and worth.” The minister of the army then rose to speak at the King’s command.

“Prince Augustus Horatio,” the minister began. There were some twitters of laughter among the audience who had seldom heard the prince’s full name unless he was being reprimanded by someone for an act of foolishness. Augie found the use of his full name to be funny as well, so the audience’s laughter did not bother him. “You will be given a horse and armor as a knight of the kingdom. You will undertake a perilous journey into the mountains to regain a valuable talisman that was lost to this kingdom some years ago. You will use whatever means you must to get this object from its current owner and return with it here.” Prince Augie was less than excited about how this sounded and was ready to bow out when the minister of literature rose to speak.

“For many years,” the minister said, “there has been a book in the royal library that contains the wisdom and judgments of all the kings. Our kings have always ruled wisely because they had the Book of Kings on which to rely. This book was stolen from the library and must be returned. With this book you will be able to rule wisely when it is time for you to inherit your father’s throne.”

It suddenly didn’t sound so bad. Augie had gotten books from the library before and it didn’t seem to be any great challenge. Then the minister of farming stood to speak.

“The Book of Kings was spirited away to the mountain monastery,” said the minister of farming. “It holds the secrets to good husbandry that have always assured us of bountiful crops and healthy animals. Now enemies of the Kingdom might use the Book of Kings to hurt our harvests if they get to it first. The well-being of our kingdom depends on you bringing the Book of Kings back from the mountain monastery to the safety of the royal library.”

Augie didn’t like the sound of enemies trying to get the same thing he was going after, but he comforted himself by believing that it was really only a trip to the library, and he would get to visit with some of his former tutors. He had always liked his tutors and did not understand why they became so frustrated with him. He had, after all, only asked a few simple questions.

And so it was that Prince Augie, dressed in shining armor and riding a white charger, was cheered as he rode out of the city gates on the road to the mountain monastery.

Now it so happened that there were spies at the royal banquet from an enemy nation. They had never before heard of the mysterious book that contained all the secrets of the kingdom.

“If we were to get this book before the foolish prince,” they said among themselves, “then we could control their crops and invade in their weakest places.” They determined that they would capture the prince and use him as a hostage to demand the book from the monastery.

It was only a few days after the prince left the castle that the spies sprang their trap. Prince Augie was riding along near dusk, looking for a place to camp when the spies fell upon him. Augie’s horse was well-trained by the minister of the army and reared up to face the attack. Augie’s visor fell over his eyes and he could not see as the horse turned and charged down the road away from the enemy. Augie let the horse go as he struggled to raise his visor so he could see. When he succeeded, he discovered that the horse had turned off the road and was following a stream, the spies close behind. Ahead of Augie there appeared a stone bridge across the stream and his horse was headed straight for the arched opening through which ran the stream.

“Duck!” yelled Augie to himself, and since he had given the command himself, he immediately obeyed it and flattened himself on his horse’s neck as the great beast charged beneath the bridge. The spies, following so closely behind that the spray of the horse’s hooves blocked their vision, were knocked from their horses as they ran beneath the bridge and lay unconscious at in the stream as Augie and his horse continued to run down the stream and then back to the road toward the mountain monastery.

Back at the castle, the minister of literature had prepared the first ‘report from the prince’ to read to the people. “Spies attacked the prince on the road to the mountain monastery,” the missive read. “In spite of being outnumbered three to one, Prince Augustus Horatio acquitted himself with deeds of bravery. The sun reflected from his shining armor and his gleaming sword as he beat the spies into submission. Then, showing his compassion and sense of justice, the Prince spared their lives, accepted their pledge of homage, and continued on his quest. Our Prince has shown himself brave in the face of grave odds and has brought honor and power to our country.”

People had a bit of difficulty believing that the Prince Augie they knew could have done this, but there it was in black and white. What else should they believe? And so they nodded their heads and allowed a little bit of pride in their young prince to seep into their hearts.

Now it happened that as the sun shone on Prince Augie’s shining armor, the inside of the armor got very hot. Augie’s horse was unhappy about the heat as well, because white chargers also wear a great deal of armor. So, being a kind rider, Augie determined to help the horse. He came to a farm field in which the farmer, battling a ceaseless war against birds eating his crops, had erected a scarecrow. It happened that it was beside this scarecrow that Augie stopped to remove his hot oven armor, and that of his horse.

As Augie got rid of his armor, he thought he couldn’t really ride in just his linens. Besides, he was sore from the ride so far. He looked around and saw the scarecrow, dressed in ragged peasant’s clothes. Quick as a wink, he stripped the scarecrow and donned its clothes, then put his armor on the scarecrow. Thinking that the proud figure of the scarecrow would look better astride a horse, he found a hay bale and dressed it in his horse’s armor, thinking the scarecrow looked much better now. Even the crows seemed to pay more respect to the shining armor that the scarecrow now wore.

Augie began to walk, leading the charger. He was much too sore to ride. Just then he saw a man with a draft horse pulling a cart.

“My, what a fine horse you have,” said the farmer.

“Yes, but I am too sore from riding him,” answered the prince. “I do wish I had a fine cart and horse like you have.”

Now the farmer thought this would be an easy simpleton to play a trick on, so he said, “This is a noble beast and the cart has served me for many years. If you had my cart and horse, noble sir, how would I then get around?”

“I know!” Augie replied. “Why don’t we trade? I’ll give you my white charger if you will give me your horse and cart.” It was almost too easy, thought the farmer, but he quickly made the trade and rode off on the charger laughing, “Simpleton!” as he rode away.

Prince Augie was ecstatic. He had a fine draft horse and a cart to ride in that was not as uncomfortable as the hard saddle of his charger. He had not gone far, however, when he met a war party from his country’s enemy. Having been told by the spies about the clever prince, the enemy king had sent a raiding party of experienced soldiers to capture the prince. The enemy soldiers stopped in front of Prince Augie. He was very frightened.

“We are looking for a man in shining armor riding a great charger,” said the leader of the raiding party. “Have you seen such a man?”

“Oh yes,” said Prince Augie. “There is such a man just up the road in a cornfield, battling a flock of crows!”

The raiders thought the prince was a simpleton and rode to find the man in armor. Augie put the whip to his horse and was far away when he heard the echo of a clash of steel as the raiding party attacked the scarecrow.

Back at the castle, the minister of literature released the second “report from the prince” that he had written.

“Prince Augustus Horatio was attacked by a horde of enemy soldiers seeking to prevent his quest. The Prince battled nobly, and struck down many of the soldiers. But ultimately, the odds were too great against him. But a kindly spirit that the Prince had befriended along the way came to the Prince’s rescue and made him vanish, so that all the soldiers found were pieces of armor as the Prince was spirited away into the mountains.”

The people of the kingdom were astounded at the news, and when soldiers, sent out to check on the prince came upon the raiding party, they were astounded to find only the prince’s armor and a story that he had vanished from their midst.

And so it went as the Prince continued his journey. He had few adventures, but the minister of literature released a new missive each week telling how he mastered a sphinx’s riddle, tricked an ogre, and slew a dragon. The people of the kingdom began to gather early on the day that a new episode was due and shake their heads in wonder that the simple prince had been able to master so many challenges on his quest.

At last, without any great issue, Prince Augie arrived at the mountain monastery and asked to see Master Quentin Renault. He found the scholar sitting in front of the fire. An insect was dragging a glass of sherry across the table next to the tutor. Prince Augie bravely strode to the tableside and squashed the insect.

“Oh no!” cried Master Renault. “Not you! Do you know how long it has taken me to train that dung beetle to bring me my drink?”

“You taught a dung beetle to retrieve?” asked Augie. “That is amazing!” he said as he wiped the remains of the insect from his sword.

“It was easier than teaching you!” the master exclaimed.

“However did you do it?” asked the prince.

“I had the book,” Master Renault said. “I suppose you have come for it now.”

“Yes,” said Augie. “I am prepared to do battle with you for possession if necessary, and complete my quest to return the book to its place in the royal library.”

“You needn’t do battle,” said the scholar. “Just take it and be gone. You’ve caused enough trouble in my life.” He pointed at a book that rested closed on a reading table.

“Will this book teach me to train a dung beetle?” the prince asked in awe as he picked up the heavy volume.

“Yes,” said the scholar, “and how to be a good king. It will teach you how to make the crops plentiful and how to keep your enemies at bay.” Augie hefted the book and tried to open it, causing himself to lose control of the massive volume and drop it to the floor. The master groaned.

“It’s locked,” said Augie.

“Of course it is locked,” said the master. “You can never understand what is in the book unless you hold the key.” With that the scholar pulled a long cord from around his neck, at the end of which was a large key. This he draped around Augie’s neck. “There, now you hold the key.”

“So now I can unlock the book and read all its secrets!” the prince exclaimed.

“Pisshhh,” the master declared. “You don’t need to read it if you hold the key to the book. Just having it is all you need. When you get back to the castle, you will find that you have all that you need to rule the kingdom well. Just continue to be a kind and simple person,” Master Quentin Renault said gently. Then resuming his irascible temperament he said, “Now go! Get out of here before you kill my cook, as well!”

“Do you have a dung beetle that cooks for you?” asked Prince Augie in surprise.

“No, of course not,” said Master Quentin. “Dung beetles are terrible cooks. It is the queen honeybee that makes my meals!” With no more hospitality than that, the master ushered Augie to the door and sent him home.

The young prince had an equally uneventful trip back to the castle, but when he was still many leagues away he was met by a man riding a fine white charger.

“You there,” said the man pulling up beside the cart. “This horse has been nothing but trouble for me since we traded. I demand that you give me back my own horse and cart and take your foul-tempered stallion back.” Augie was reluctant, but the farmer was justified in that he really couldn’t use a war horse on the farm to haul his hay, so Augie agreed to the change.

As it happened, word had found its way back to the enemy kingdom that Augie had traded his warhorse and armor and the enemy king sent another raiding party after the prince. This raiding party met Augie on the road and stopped him.

“You there!” demanded the leader. “We are looking for a ragged man with a horse and cart that was to be on this road. Have you seen such a one?”

“Why yes,” said the prince. “He is not more than two leagues behind me.” At that the raiding party rode off at a gallop and the prince trotted on toward the castle. In a field not far away, he found his armor. It was scuffed and not so shiny, and there was not a sign of the scarecrow, but Prince Augie put it on the best he could manage, armored his horse, and jangled on toward the castle.

People were lining the battlements to watch as Prince Augustus Horatio rode toward the castle and his horse clumped across the bridge. Looking at the people, the prince held up the book that he had brought from the mountain monastery and all the people cheered. He rode proudly to the market square where he had begun his journey and there he met his mother and father and the gathered council of ministers. For the first time in his life, Prince Augustus felt successful as he delivered the great book to the minister of literature. The king then spoke.

“This is my son!” he declared to the crowd. They cheered loudly. “Prince Augustus Horatio, you have taken on a great quest and you have returned successful. You have faced enemy soldiers, spies, wild animals, and desolate roads. And you have returned successful! It is my great pride to bestow upon you the rank of crown prince and heir to the throne. After me, you will rule wisely and our kingdom will prosper.” The people cheered again.

It was some time before Prince Augustus heard the stories that had been told about his adventures on his miraculous quest, and when he heard them, they seemed right to him. He thought that truly that must have been what happened, because it was right there in black and white.

When his father and mother were old and on their deathbeds, his father blessed him and Augustus became King Augustus Horatio. All the people expected him to be wise and just, and so, all that he did appeared to be so. And under his rule, the kingdom prospered.

The book, was never opened. King Augustus held the key, and that was all that was necessary.

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1 comment:

Jason Black said...

You have the father wondering what is to be done about Augie, and the mother suggesting a quest. Fine though it is to challenge gender roles and all, this just felt a little backwards to me, as though each were speaking the other's parts.

> You will use whatever means you must to get this object from its current owner and return with it here.

"Current owner" implies that the book really does belong to Renault, and that Augie has no real claim to go take it. I'd use "its posessor" instead.

> right there in black and white

The phrase "black and white" strikes me as anachronistic for the time period of the story. I don't exactly know what else might replace it, but then, I'm not quite the scholor of ancient printing techniques that you are. :)