The King Is Not A Happy Camper
The palace had been beautiful at some point in the past, but was now overgrown with vines (most of which were dead or dying), walls had fallen down, and the bridges were rotting. John noticed there was no water in the moat. In fact, he remembered that all the horse troughs were dry and that the streets were incredibly dusty. The dwarf looked like it could use a bath.
John followed the cart across the creaky bridge and into the palace.
Inside, the dwarf jumped down off the cart (more like fell, John thought), and the horse took itself off to the stables, leaning dangerously to the left. "I am Joe," said the dwarf, and John said that "Joe" was a pretty ordinary name for somebody who knew a king. "I am the king's personal secretary and sword-sharpener." He waited for John to be impressed, and when he wasn't, Joe seemed to get even smaller. "C'mon," he said, and headed for one of the dark doors.
The door itself was pitted and scarred and burned around the edges, and it opened only when John put his weight against it. "Got to get that door fixed," Joe said, but he didn't seem really convinced it would ever happen. They walked down a long corridor that was filled with the smell of burnt wood. John could make out large tapestries on the wall, but they were tattered and frayed. Something's happened here, John thought, something terrible and very recent.
Joe and John entered a large room that at least was filled with sunlight. At first John didn't see him, but at the end of the long room, hidden in shadows, sitting on a chair that had once been painted with gold paint, sat the king. They walked up to him and waited.
All they got was a big sigh. Nothing else. John looked at Joe, but Joe was just looking at the king, with a touch of sadness on his face. They waited. Another sigh. John was getting hungry again.
"Has he come to see me?" the king asked Joe, completely ignoring John.
"Yes he has, Your Excellency With Shining Face," Joe said with a low hyena laugh voice.
Another sigh. "Well, I suppose I should talk to him," the king said, and shifted his weight a little to face John. "Hello," he said.
"Hello," John said back, not quite sure what title to use, so he added, after a pause, "Your Highness With The Round Tones."
"Oh, stop that, I hate all those names -- Your Graceness With The Pointy Toes, Your Laughingness With The White Front Teeth. It gets stupid after a while. And I know nobody means it." Joe gave out a little squeak. "Except you, of course, my dear Joe."
The king got up from his chair, and John could see that he was a fine man, tall and strong, or at least had been at one time. His face, handsome as it was, was lined with worry, and there was no light in the eyes. The king walked over to the window and looked out, saying nothing. Joe's eyes were fixed on him. John waited.
"Did you notice anything strange when you came to town?"
"Well," said John, "I didn't meet anybody. Except Joe. And his horse. Though someone left me food on their doorstep."
"Anything else?"
"They left me wine instead of water, or Coke."
"Coke? What's that?"
"Something we drink from where I come."
"And where is that?"
"You ask an awful lot of questions."
"It's my job -- being wise and all that."
"I'm not sure exactly where I came from. It's been a...strange day so far."
The king and Joe looked at each other at almost the same time, and then looked away. If John hadn't been paying attention, he never would have caught the look.
"I was led to this place by a wooden sign that had arms and legs. And I've noticed that there isn't much water around this place -- no fountains, no flowers, no baths." He looked at Joe.
Again the king and Joe exchanged glances.
"Other than that," said John, "I can't think of anything."
"Interesting," the king said, in a way that made John feel the king was trying to buy time.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why 'interesting'?"
"No reason." With that the king went to another window. "Joe, you might as well tell him."
Joe suddenly filled with importance (which made him look like a balloon being blown up). "You'll notice that the palace is not in the best of repair."
"I noticed a lot of things burnt, a lot of large scratch marks."
"Well, yes, we've had visitor not too long ago. A monster, to be exact. Named the Evil One."
"With the body of Hulk Hogan, the face of The Joker, and hands with long spiky nails on them, and a low evil voice that goes Ha, ha, ha!?"
Joe was lost. "Hulk Hogan? The Joker?"
"Yes," the king said to John. "That's how the Evil One described itself. Especially the voice." The king turned his sad eyes on John. "How did you know this?"
"I've had encounters with him before."
"And lived to tell about it?" The king's voice plainly said he didn't believe John.
"No, I haven't survived. I haven't been able to get past him."
"But you're still alive! How can you be alive if you didn't survive?" Before John could explain, the king said, "This is quite remarkable. You come back to life. Perhaps there is hope after all."
"Not unless I can figure out the riddle."
"What riddle?"
"The Evil One always says, 'What makes sadness go away and happiness stay, what makes the eyes cry but not weep?' I've never been able to figure it out, but I know that it has something to do with killing him."
"Would you like to kill him?" John noticed that the king's eyes had picked up a little glint in them.
"Well, yeah, I've never had a chance to do that." Suddenly John realized what he was saying. This was not the Nintendo game here -- this was real. The Evil One could make hamburger out of him. "I don't know if I could. What makes you think I could?"
"The Evil One has a mocking tone. Nothing is important to him. He took away our water because we refused to pay him the rubies and gold he wanted. When we showed him that we didn't have what he wanted, that I was a poor king and that my people didn't have much more than what was on their backs, he just laughed and said, 'So what? I think I'll make you suffer anyway.' So he dried up our wells, filled our springs up with rocks.
"Before he left he said that I shouldn't even think of trying to kill him. He said that the only one who could kill him would be someone who came from a place he didn't know, and how could someone be from someplace and not know it? Then he left, after tearing things up a little and setting a few fires here and there, which we had to put out with what little water we had left in the cisterns."
"Well, I seem to fit the bill."
"Will you do it?"
"Don't you even offer me dinner before you ask? Why should I?"
"How are you going to get home?"
"I don't know because I don't know where home is." John thought about that for a second. "Do you have any ideas?"
"The Evil One also said that the only way to Coke is past him. Do you know what he meant? Is Coke some strange land, some far off paradise?" This information came from Joe. The king smiled. "You're right, Joe. I had forgotten that."
"Coke," John said. It didn't add up to much -- these Evil Ones could be pretty tricky. But if he was going to get home, it seemed like the only way to do it was beat the Evil One, something he hadn't been able to do ever. But he kept his thoughts to himself. "Dinner," he said, "and then we'll talk."
Joe and the king looked at each other, and then nodded. The king motioned for John to follow, and the three of them went out of the great hall.
