The Stone King
By Mark Seifert
Copyright Mark Seifert, August 2, 2000

     I slowly crept into the room. The dust of ages slowly swirled around my footsteps, like a living carpet. As I approached the far wall of the room, I could see him sitting there. I nervously chuckled to myself about calling "it" a "him" for it had a thousand years since the Great King had turned to stone.

     Some feel that he had given up on life and refused to go on and was promptly turned to stone by the Gods. Others believe that he is just frozen in this position while planning a great siege. He was once a Great King, ruler of all that he could see and then 100 miles beyond that. His subjects were loyal to him out of respect. It is told that he would proudly walk among his subjects and greet them, listening to their complaints and needs. They would seek out his wisdom whenever trouble arose.

     These days no one ever came to seek out the King, children still played outside the castle walls like they did in the days of yore but many things have changed in 1000 years.

     I unfasten the clasp on my cloak and lay it down on the dust carpet, exactly four feet from the ancient throne and our Stone King. It was my duty to give the King a verbal report of happenings. This was originally done every day for the first 100 years, then it slipped down to every second day for the next fifty year. And so it continued until where I fulfill my duties today, once every 10 years I come here and report to the King the events of interest in his domain.

     I kneel gently on my woolen cape, which provides my tired bones protection from the cold stone floor. I clear my throat and began.

     "Ahem... My Lord, it is with much sadness that I must make this report. The government born of your great-great-great-great-great grand children has yet again decided to debate the de-construction of your castle and the relocation of it to less fertile lands in the south. The lands were once used, as you may recall for the Royal stables. Since that land has been overworked and depleted of nutrients and minerals they feel that it is the ideal location to move your castle. We, the remaining subjects have informed them of this dishonour and hope that they will change their minds yet again, as we have been able to do many times in the past.

     Your great-to the power of 10th granddaughter has passed away and "the" family was there for the services. We of course sent your most humble condolences. "

     I straightened up, gathered my cape, adjusted my clothing, said "This is the end of my report, Sire", bowed low and turned around to leave.

     It was then that I heard it. To be honest I'm not sure any more if I had actually heard him speak or if I imagined it. The only thing he said was "Fare thee well old friend for you have served me well"

     I was dazed.. I didn't know what to do. My back had been turned so I do not know if the statue spoke. I also didn't stick around to find out if there was anything else we wanted to say.

     During the de-construction of the castle many pieces were lost some were stolen, and when there wasn't enough to re-build even a smaller version of the castle they sold off the rest and pocketed the money. The Government made a pretty penny from the sale of the throne to a goldsmith, and no one knows what happened to the King. They made a brave showing of trying to look hard for the missing statue but after a month they gave up and went about business as usual. A parking lot now resides where the castle once stood.

     I was retired from duties of my birthright by the Government; luckily I was given full pension. In their eyes I have finished my duties without fail. I disagree however, for I haven't finished my duties. I still give my report to the King, and will continue to do so until I die.