The Jester's Sword Page 2

fulness, he casthimself upon the earth and prayed to die. Despair had seized him. ButDeath comes not at such a call; kind Death, who waits that one may havea chance to rise again and grapple with the foe that downed him, andconquering, wipe the stigma coward from his soul.

  So with Aldebaran. At first it seemed that he could not endure to facethe round of useless days now stretching out before him. An eagle,broken winged and drooping in a cage, he sat within the goat-herd's hutand gloomed upon his lot, and cursed the vital force within that wouldnot let him die.

  To fall asleep with all the world within one's grasp and wakenempty-handed--that is small bane to one who may spring up again, and bysheer might wrest all his treasures back from Fortune. But to wakehelpless as well as empty-handed, the strength for ever gone from armsthat were invincible; to crawl, a poor crushed worm, the mark for allmen's pity, where one had thought to win the meed of all men's praise,ah, then to live is agony! Each breath becomes a venomed adder's sting.

  Most of all Aldebaran thought of Vesta. The stroke that marred hiscomeliness and took his strength had robbed him of all power to win hishappiness. It was written "by the hearth of him who is the bravest sheshall keep eternal vigil." As yet he had not risen above the level ofhis forbears' bravery, only up to it. Now 'twas impossible to show theworld a greater courage, shorn as he was of strength. And even had herhoroscope willed otherwise, and she should come to him all filled withmaiden pity to share his ruined hearth, he could not say her yea. Hisman's pride rose up in him, rebellious at the thought of pity from onein whose sight he fain would be all that is strong and comely. Lookingdown upon his twisted limbs, the pain that racked him was greatertorture than mere flesh can feel. Although 'twas casting heaven fromhim, he drew his mantle closer, hiding his disfigured form, and prayedwith groans and writhings that she might never look on him again. Sodays went by.

  There came a time when, even through his all-absorbing thought of self,there pierced the consciousness that he no longer could impose upon thegoat-herds' bounty. Food was scarce within the hut, and even though hegroaned to die, the dawns brought hunger. So at the close of day hedragged him down the mountainside, thinking that under cover of the duskhe would steal into the village and seek a chance to earn his bread.

  But as he neared the little town and the sound of evening bells broke onhis ear, and lighted windows marked the homes where welcome waited othermen, he winced as from a blow. This was the village he had thought toenter in the midst of loud acclaims, its brave deliverer from theProvince Terror. Then every window in the hamlet would have blazed forhim. Then every door would have been set wide to welcome Aldebaran, theroyal son of kings, fittest to bear the Sword of Conquest. And nowAldebaran was but the crippled makeshift of a man, who could not evendraw that Sword from out its scabbard; at whose wry features all mustturn away in loathing, and some perchance might even set the dogs tosnarling at his heels, in haste to have him gone.

  "In all the world," he cried in bitterness, "there breathes no other manwhom Faith hath used so cruelly! Emptied of hope, robbed of my all, lifedoth become a prison-house that dooms me to its lowest dungeon! Whystruggle any longer 'gainst my lot? Why not lie here and starve, andthus force Death to turn the key, and break the manacles which bind meto my misery?"

  While he thus mused, footsteps came up the mountainside, a lusty voicewas raised in song, and before he could draw back into cover, a head ina fantastic cap appeared above the bushes. It was the village Jestercapering along the path as if the world were thistledown and every day aholiday. But when he saw Aldebaran he stopped agape and crossedhimself. Then he pushed nearer.

  Now those who saw the Jester only on a market day or at the country fairplying his trade of merriment for all 'twas worth knew not a sage washid behind that motley or that his sympathies were tender as a saint's.Yet so it was. The motto written deep across his heart was this: "_Toease the burden of the world!_" It was beyond belief how wise he'd grownin wheedling men to think no load lay on their shoulders. Now he stoodand gazed upon the prostrate man who turned away his face and would notanswer his low-spoken words: "What ails thee, brother?"

  It boots not in this tale what wiles he used to gain Aldebaran's earand tongue. Another man most surely must have failed, because he shrankfrom pity as from salt rubbed in a wound, and felt that none could hearhis woeful history and not bestow that pity. But if the Jester felt itsthrobs he gave no sign. Seated beside him on the grass he talked in thelight tone that served his trade, as if Aldebaran's woes were but aflight of swallows 'cross a summer sky, and would as soon be gone. Andwhen between his quirks he'd drawn the piteous tale entirely from him,he doubled up with laughter and smote his sides.

  "And I'm the fool and thou'rt the sage!" he gasped between his peals ofmirth. "Gadzooks! Methinks it is the other way around. Why, look ye,man! Here thou dost go a-junketing through all the earth to find achance to show unequalled courage, and when kind Fate doth shove itunderneath thy very nose, thou turn'st away, lamenting. I've heard ofthose who know not beans although the bag be opened, and now I laugh tosee one of that very kind before me."

  Then dropping his unseemly mirth and all his wanton raillery, he stoodup with his face a-shine, and spake as if he were the heaven-sentmessenger of hope.

  "Rise up!" he cried. "_Knowest thou not it takes a thousandfold morecourage to sheathe the sword when one is all on fire for action than togo forth against the greatest foe?_ Here is thy chance to show theworld the kingliest spirit it has ever known! Here is a phalanx thoumayst meet all single-handed--a daily struggle with a host of hurts thatcut thee to the quick. This sheathed sword upon thy side will stab theehourly with deeper thrusts than any adversary can give. 'Twill be adaily 'minder of thy thwarted hopes. For foiled ambition is thehydra-headed monster of the Lerna marsh. Two heads will rise for everyone thou severest. 'Twill be a fight till death. Art brave enough tolift the gauntlet that Despair flings down and wage this warfare to thyvery grave?'"

  Such call to arms seemed mockery as Aldebaran looked down upon histwisted limbs, but as the bloodstone on his finger met his sight hiskingly soul leapt up. "I'll keep the oath!" he cried, and struggling tohis feet laid hand upon the jewelled hilt that decked his side.

  "By sheathed sword, since blade is now denied me," he swore. "I'll winthe future that my stars foretold!"

  In that exalted moment all things seemed possible, and though his bodylimped as haltingly he followed on behind his new-found friend, hisspirit walked erect, and faced his future for the time, undaunted.

  His merry-Andrew of a host made festival when they at last came to hisdwelling; lit a great fire upon the hearth, brewed him a drink thatwarmed him to the core, brought wheaten loaves and set a bit of savourymeat to turning on the spit.

  "Ho, ho!" he laughed. "They say it is an ill wind that blows good tonone. Now thou dost prove the proverb. The tempest that didst blow theefrom thy course mayhap may send me on my way rejoicing. I long havewished to leave this land and seek the distant province where mykindred dwell, but there was never one to take my place. And when Ispake of going, my townsmen said me nay. 'Twas quite as bad, they vowed,as if the priest should suddenly desert his parish, with none toshepherd his abandoned flock. 'Who'll cheer us in our doldrums?' theydemanded. 'Who'll help us bear our troubles by making us forget them?Thou canst not leave us, Piper, until some other merry soul comes by toset our feet a-dancing.' Now thou art come."

  "Yes, _I_! A merry soul indeed!" Aldebaran cried in bitterness.

  "Well, maybe not quite that," his host admitted. "But thou couldst passas one. Thou couldst at least put on my grotesque garb, couldst learnthe quips and quirks by which I make men laugh. Thou wouldst not be thefirst man who has hid an aching heart behind a smile. The tune thoupipest may not bring _thee_ pleasure, but if it sets the world todancing it is enough. And, too, it is an honest way to earn thy bread.Canst think of any other?"

  Aldebaran hid his face within his hands. "No, no!" he groaned. "Thereis no other way, and yet my soul abhors the
thought, that I, a king'sson, should descend to this! The jester's motley and the cap and bells.How can _I_ play such a part?"

  "Because thou _art_ a king's son," said the Jester. "That in itself isample reason that thou shouldst play more royally than other menwhatever part Fate may assign thee."

  Aldebaran sat wrapped in thought. "Well," was the slow reply after longpause, "an hundred years from now, I suppose, 'twill make no differencehow circumstances chafe me now. A poor philosophy, but still there is agrain of comfort in it. I'll take thy offer, friend, and give theegratitude."

  And so next day the two went forth together. Aldebaran showed