TREACHERY VS LOYALTY

I would be totally wrong to use the word reminisce but that word would have sufficed  to express my feelings except for the incredible fact that I did not witness what I am about to say. All week, my cerebrum had being plagued with quaint events of times remote from the present and I have caught myself humming the tone “what a wonderful world”. I have traveled centuries back on the waves of excellent history when women were modest, respectful and demurely behaved. The times when females were addressed as ladies with uttermost reverence and maidens were virgins. I floated centuries back to the periods of life when men were honorable, noble and fearless. Times when a man’s word was his bond and his life depended on keeping it.

 An age when bravery was sought and displayed by lads who engaged themselves in adversities. Such was a time when subjects were loyal and knights were brave enough to lay down their lives for their kings without flinching. Such was a period when the pure scent of the serene waters aroused and satisfactorily quenched thirst. The wrens and nightingales were never afraid to hold each other to a singing contest, embracing without any tinge of grudge the result. The trees were never hesitant to wave at the proud blue sky that stretches over the universe. The sun shone in its entire splendor but allowed the illumination of the moon at night. Friendship was embraced, engaged and regarded with esteem.

 A friend could risk the executioner’s axe, the stake and the gallows for another friend. Those were days of untainted innocence, heroism and bravery, loyalty and integrity. Such a time it was when great men of valor walked the face of the earth and exhumed honorable traits but treachery also did abound. Phenomenal plots that chronicled the fall of many great kings and tore kingdoms apart. Such was the time of the great Julius Ceaser, the roman god, the holy emperor Otto the great, the ancient city of Gondolin and the historic Troy. These men were exceedingly great and so their empires. Some were regarded above mortals but all had an Achilles heel that facilitated their untimely fall to treachery, mistrust. All of these quaint events brought to life something in me as I pondered over the tale of this young serving boy who lived in those times.

Remotely in a kingdom far away, long extinct, lived a lad. Orphaned at childhood with no one in the world to turn to, he mastered the act of sole survival at a very tender age. At fourteen, he fended for himself any way he could both legitimate and crooked. He lived on and off the streets until fate caused him to witness a scene that brought about a volte-face. One sunny day, he tended to the crops of a wealthy merchant. He was assigned to till and make a hundred ridges before sun down. The young lad worked tirelessly but at sundown, he had yet another thirty ridges to make. He couldn’t leave the farm out of the petrifaction, for the merchant was extremely cruel and unjust. Leaving the job half done meant no pay at all and so kept on late into the night. It was a beautiful night and nature consented to his dedication as a full moon lighted the entire farmland but at about midnight, something strange happened.

From the horizon emerged three men, he couldn’t quite make out their faces in the dark but they looked like royal guards. Quickly with stealth, he disappeared into the bush from where he listened attentively. Alas, his suspicion was correct. He identified the trio as the chief commander of the king’s army and two other trusted soldiers. They had a plot to assassinate the king on his wedding which was to take place in a fortnight as the king had being previously made widower by losing his queen to childbirth. They had a scrupulously orchestrated arrangement to use the potential queen as the carrier of the deadly poison that will eliminate the king in no time. She would be burnt at the stake for treason and consequently, the commander of the kings army would be crowned king as it was in the constitution.

The poor lad had to do something and with exigency, but what? He had not the slightest inkling because no one would take the words of a peasant over those of a royal commander. He needed a royal emissary to carry his missive but whom? Lost in the maze of excruciating thoughts, it hit him like a little stone thrown into a stream and as the ripples broadened so did the smile on his face.

For the king, the status quo had changed. He didn’t care about the fairness of the maiden; no virgin could measure up to his deceased wife. He sought a lady with a pure and true heart, kind and witty and so he had instructed that all maidens go through a test, whoever passed it would become his new queen but how could anyone tame a beast!
Ten virgins had been selected-royals and nobles, pure breeds that had the purple blood running through their veins but amidst the ten was an ordinary girl or so she seemed but immensely witty. All had been given thirteen days to tame the beast, whoever succeeded became the crowned queen on the fourteenth day. Young poor orphan set out in his mission to save the king. For ten days he helped the ordinary maiden and each day the beast was calmer with her but not any of the other virgins.
 
Eventually on the twelfth day, they broke through; the beast was tamed by the duo. The lady inquired of the lad what he needed as a quid pro quo but his desire wasn’t for himself. He asked for just one thing, that the chief commander of the king’s army taste the ceremonial wine. The lady was astonished, but she had no other choice. The matrimonial ceremony began in earnest on the fourteenth day in an immaculately adorned palace filled with royals, friends and subjects. In no time, the zenith of the day was reached, the king had to complete the marriage rites by drinking the wine carried by his queen who approached steadily in a breathe taking white dress but stopped a few feet from the throne, tears rolling down her eyes.

The music stopped abruptly as the king rose from his throne. He was already impressed by her ability to tame the beast and so he declared that she named anything she wanted, so far it stills the river flowing steadily down her cheek and he would give it. At her request, the palace became pin silent. The king couldn’t fathom it out but he already gave his word. The commander was summoned and asked to sip the wine. He vehemently refused. Catastrophe had struck, the plot had been uncovered. The commander confessed treason and his accomplices were arrested. The king was devastated for trusting his foes but profoundly grateful to his new bride. He thanked providence for bestowing him with a rare gem but she didn’t forget the orphan. He served the king faithfully and was the youngest commander in history.

When we hear treason, we think about the national acts of disloyalty but the heart stinging truth is this- we all are guilty of some measure of treason. It is not about plotting against the president but it is in the seemingly unimportant things- a wife who scorns her husband behind his back is a traitor just as the private soldier that answers “yes sir” and calls the general a moron. A friend that breaks news told him in confidentiality and denies it. A child that deceives the father and an employee that engages in office gossip and slander. How about the sexton that assassinates the character of the cardinal?


Man’s infallibility is but a myth so I won’t be placing anyone on the pedestal but loyalty and integrity are a seal of nobility. Whatever you do, be noble and loyal. The executioner’s axe could be extinct but treachery has a high prize and loyalty uplifting.