Challenge The Proud

Roll Your Own Rock

"roll your own rock." - Challenge No.24

A PRINCE UNDERSTANDS his people. He guides them with a firm hand. Their lands are his lands. Their lives are his lives.

My father explained how things should be. No, actually, he has shown me how things should be. He has led by example his entire life. Now that I am King I mustn't forget my father's precious teachings.

This grizzled man is still knelt before me. Must I suffer such unwarranted delays?

"And after they took her, they burnt my farm. My life's work," he sniffles lowering his head.

I stand quiet. A moment of contemplation. Of course, I am contemplating my latest hunting achievements. Uncle Jonas will be envious at the boar's head I brought back as trophy. I shift uncomfortable in my saddle and realize that my party and I have been riding for over eight hours now.

"The perils you've endured move me. The Sheriff in your village can assist you in finding justice," I decide without much consideration - this was not a matter for me to attend to.

"But, Your Highness. As I've said - it was the Sheriff's brothers that did all this."

I take another moment. My patience is running thin.

"The Sheriff will do his duty I'm sure," I say in as firm a tone I can.

My horse is restless and I allow him to pass by the disrupting peasant, but he has the nerve to grab the reigns.

"Please, Your Highness! You have men here with you. You can save my daughter."

Knight Halifax moves to draw his sword, no doubt to punish the insolent fool for speaking out of term and getting so close to me. I sigh and shake my head ever so slightly. My trusted guardian relaxes his hand on the hilt of his weapon.

The peasant releases the reigns and his hands gather in a prayer as he yet again takes a knee in the mud. Such filth. Such audacity - him touching my horse with those callous, black palms.

"Roll your own rock," my words are sharp just as I intend them to be.

Why spend a minute longer in this God forsaken village?

I trot away and look forward at the winding path before me. My party follows me closely. Their armor clinks and their horses snort. Behind me, the carriage barely makes it through the refuse of the road, so I keep my eyes on it. My trophy is there and it must survive the journey to my castle if I am to boast about it to my Court.

After a bath and a good night's sleep, I am as satisfied as a piglet suckling from its mama's tit. I have spent a fortnight at the Paxville hunting grounds, and now, I am finally home, back among the Court of my Seat.I put on a gold and scarlet robe, befitting my rank but not as ostentatious as my other outfits.

Breakfast is a time for gossip and I am usually the subject. Uncle Jonas comes with the latest news of my exploits as the Court sees them.

"You are most admired, Your Highness," he assures me and hands me my morning tea.

I suspect there's some flattery in there to boost my spirits after the long, tedious journey.

"The way you dealt with that peasant was magnifique," Uncle Jonas adds with a high pitch to his tone.

"Yes, yes. But have you seen my trophy?" I have to know.

He has not.Apparently the master taxidermist is sick. How sick can he be?

"The master would like to assign his best apprentice to work on Your Highness's trophy."

"No."

"No?"

"If he is healthy enough to refuse his King then he is healthy enough to do the work."

"He seemed fairly sick, Your Highn-"

"He must roll his own rock."

It's been two days. I'm excited to see my trophy. This morning Uncle Jonas seems excited as well. I was hoping he'd be green with envy at my prowess as a hunter.

"Today is the big day," he says as he gives me my usual cup of tea.

"It certainly is,Uncle," I say trying to contain my pride.

I enjoy the bitter-sweet fragrance as I sip the warm tea. Chamomile and lime with a touch of honey and lemon. Only my Uncle knows how to make it just right. This morning it feels a tad different. I think I'm mistaken.As my uncle tells me about Count Lisander's indiscretions in matters of love, I drink my tea in uncertainty. He's done something different with it, I'm sure of it now, but what?

My hands feel numb and my throat hurts. I look at my uncle but he's just a blur. I understand now what he has done. The poison burns and consumes the life out of me.

I wake up to an obscure room, soaking wet and cold. I'm thirsty. As I look around for my usual water pitcher I find my uncle's face. He's grinning.I remember now. I'm dying.

The realization sinks me deeper into darkness. And in that darkness I find the ghost of a memory. The only other time I have been certain of my mortality.

My father stands over me. Everything aches and I think my jaw is broken because I can't open my mouth, so I have to swallow the blood pooling over my tongue from my many dislodged teeth. His hand is heavy on my shoulder. His words hang even heavier over my head.

"Life is a rock that we each roll up a hill. Some hills are steeper than others, some rocks heavier than others. If I help you roll your rock I have to step away from my own. And you know what happens when I step away from my rock? It rolls out of control - lost forever."

His hand squeezes my shoulder. I look at the savage warrior that has beaten me so badly and I know my father isn't going to help me.

"Roll your own rock," he says and walks away.

I hear his footsteps on the gravel. The warrior comes at me with his fists ready. I can barely stand. One punch and I'm down.

There's a boy crying out, he's sobbing and groaning. I think that's me.

A strong flash of light blinds me. Birds are singing. The wind is caressing my cheek.Is this real?

I see a man's figure, dark and shaded with his back at the sun. For a moment I think it's my father, but then I recognize his voice.

"You're safe here for now, my king"

It's Knight Halifax. He is wiping my forehead.

"The antidote's working... Thank God..." he mumbles.

I want to ask him so many questions but my thoughts scatter like pearls, slipping off a torn string.

"Your Uncle Jonas has taken the crown. The Kingdom is lost..." I hear Halifax say right before the comforting embrace of sleep takes me again.

He saved me.Halifax saved me.

The soldier is pushed aside and Halifax is carrying me away from the training grounds. He promises to always keep me safe. He promises to always be there. I wonder how can he just stop rolling his own rock, simply to help me with mine?

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