The Court Jester, Part 1

The king stood proudly and confidently as he addressed his court. “Wonderful news!” he exclaimed.

“One of the prisoners recently captured in my raids happens to be a bard and a minstrel. I’ve given him a lute and a Jester’s outfit as well as reprieve from his cell — on the condition that he entertains us, and avoids wandering towards the women’s chambers. So have at it, Jester! Introduce yourself to the kingdom!”

The man nervously walked forward, his eyes darting around the room.

“Um, why thank you, Milord, for your gracious hosting of my, um, talents and expertise in the art of, um, whatever it was you just said. To be sure, I am, uh, highly skilled in, um… that. Yes. Much more skilled than I am at breaking rocks in the mines, that’s for sure!”

The man chuckled to himself.

The audience stared at him blankly.

“My name is Damocles, and I shall amaze you, um, with tales of lands a-yonder, and wit and stories from, um… other places!”

Looking out into the unimpressed faces of the audience, the man began to strum the lute, sweat rolling down his brow as he checked up to see whether the people began to dance.

They didn’t.

Oenomaus leaned over to whisper into the King’s ear. “Sire, the man is clearly not a skilled Jester. Shall I have his tongue cut out for lying to your majesty?”

King Crixus smiled his cryptic smile. He shook his head subtly ‘no’ as he leaned back in his throne with an air of satisfaction. “No, but thank you, Oenomaus. That won’t be necessary,” he said quietly over the sound of the lute.

Oenomaus sat back obediently, his brief look of disappointment quickly fading away into acceptance of the king’s judgement.

As the music played, the instrument sounded less like it was singing in the hands of a master, and more as if it were crying out for help.

“Damocles will do just fine,” the King whispered under his breath, his eyes narrowing with intent focus.

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