THE PRINCE AND THE BARBARIAN



Though he was still young, the Prince of the Kingdom of the Sun knew that he would never see the completion of his vast palace.  Indeed, it was his desire never to do so.

His father, the mighty and all-conquering King, had set in train a sequence of building works which was still unfolding, many years after his death.  In fact, not only was the building work still forging ahead but its progress was accelerating, with new rooms being added almost too quickly for the young prince to keep track of them.

Now, the Palace of the Sun had, naturally, always been the most glorious creation in the entire dominion, with a central spire reaching at least to the First Garden of Heaven, but the King had decided many years ago that something extra was needed. This majestic monument to the regal splendour of his dynasty may have been good enough for his ancestors, but the King feared that unless the palace continually grew in ever-blossoming grandeur, it would fail to reflect the ceaseless growth of his own unparalleled brilliance.

And so he instructed that the palace be continually expanded, and forever beautified, so that it could never be said that his powers were no longer multiplying.

Following his orders, chambers and apartments bloomed, new towers and domes sprouted to greet every new sunrise, and gilded spiral turrets and jewelled pinnacles reached upward to each individual star in the heavens. Never had so many workmen, so many men of strength and genius, worked so feverishly, nor so many beasts of burden toiled so devotedly.  The King was thrilled with his Palace, and though a fearsome warrior and merciless conqueror of lesser kingdoms, he was unfailingly generous and merciful to his armies of builders and craftsmen, whom he spurred on to ever-greater effort and achievement.

Eventually the day came to the King that comes to every creature born, and he failed to rise with the sun. His Kingdom fell to the rule of his only son the Prince who, out of a potent mixture of respect for the lessons he had learned from his father and pride in his own position as the new crown of the dynasty of the Sun, decreed that work on the expansion of the Palace must continue unabated.  This would mean that in generations to come, his father’s glory would always be remembered as the firm foundation for the Prince’s own magnificence.

And he set about his responsibilities with burning determination. The Prince tirelessly sent out armies to subjugate the scattered tribes of barbarians that bordered the kingdom, just as his father the King had done, and nearly every day news arrived at the palace of another conquest from another little-known, far-flung borderland. And almost every day, more builders were called for, and arrived, and more candlestick-turners and balustrade-carvers, and carpet-weavers and finial-gilders, and all the most accomplished practitioners of all the beautiful crafts came to add to the wonderful flowering of the palace. Sometimes, even the newly-conquered barbarians, rough and uneducated as barbarians must be,  had skills that could be put to use, and their exotic touch was often to be seen in the marvellous colours that ornamented the palace walls and ceilings, and the subtle tapestry-work that was hung in the spiral stairwells of the lesser minarets.

It seemed as though nothing could halt the progress of the Kingdom of the Sun, and the Prince was proud and happy.

*

News arrived at the palace one day of a band of unruly horsemen who were reported to be worrying one of the more remote of the Kingdom’s border garrisons.  This was not an unusual occurrence and the Prince thought very little about it, simply despatching a well-armed brigade to deal with the problem in the routine manner.

But this was not enough; the unruly horsemen were more numerous and troublesome than the first report had suggested, and the brigade was not able to quieten them.  So the Prince sent out another armed brigade to put a stop to the nonsense.

It was forty days later, when the Prince was inspecting some extraordinarily delicate carving to an elegantly sweeping balcony that was being added to one of the eastern music chambers, that a breathless messenger burst through the guards in such a tumultuous panic that he scared the palace dogs, who yelped and scuttled to the nearest dark corner to hide beneath their paws.  The messenger had ridden for days without proper rest to inform the Prince that further reinforcements were urgently needed at the border - the unruly horsemen had not been vanquished and were, in fact, pushing back the border garrison along with the two brigades which were now in demoralised disarray.

This news angered the Prince as he had never been angered before, and he immediately determined to teach these ill-behaved riders the seriousness of their disrespectful behaviour.

*

Instantly upon the Prince’s command his generals set about raising the largest army of the strongest and the bravest fighting units, from battle-hardened warriors to the rawest young blades were all called to arms, and villages from across the Kingdom were  emptied of their every man of fighting age and fitness. Only those engaged in the building of the palace were excused.  The Prince made it quite clear that nothing was to come before the quelling of the upstart horsemen. This impudent threat must be ended.

Having issued his orders in the clearest possible terms, the Prince returned to his inspections, content that the problem was now in hand and fully under control.

As the days passed, he became more and more engrossed in the latest plans that had been presented to him for the construction of a staircase-waterfall to connect the West Garden-Room with the Summer Dining-Hall. There were some very interesting decisions to be made concerning the choice of marble to be used; the green veined stone from the east would charm the spirits of the luxuriant garden room, but might it blend too well and fail to stand out and impress in the way that the gold-flecked red marble from the north certainly would?

The Prince was utterly absorbed in his deliberations with his advisors – the opal-flushed stone from the new quarry in the Valley of the Fathers was definitely worth looking at again – when they were disturbed by an urgent rap at the door.

The chamber-guard led in a dusty exotic looking foreigner in a time-scarred suit of leather armour, followed very closely by one of the Prince’s most respected captains.

As soon as the Prince had suppressed his irritation at having his conversation disturbed, he started to enjoy his excitement at the good news his Captain was about to deliver.

His heart beat faster as he anticipated the splendidly exotic tribute to be received of a prisoner from the vanquished band of unruly horsemen. His mind was immediately filled with a brilliant vision of a dazzling new dome to celebrate this latest and most glorious victory.

*

The Prince, though a proud and ambitious man, and ruthless in battle, was not unkind or unmerciful to adversaries who behaved honourably in defeat and who showed due deference and humble respect to their captors, especially those bearing delightful gifts, so he bade both the captain and the horseman to sit before him; the captain on a carved chair that the chamber-guard pulled up for him, and the horseman on the floor, but on a rug and not at the captain’s feet. 

The horseman looked at the ground and waited for the Prince to speak. The Prince told him to look up at the fine chamber he was in, to admire the ceiling, vaulted and decorated in a celestial frenzy of jewelled tessera. He invited him to gaze for a while at the vibrant carpets and luscious painted panels that decorated the walls, and, if he could free his mind from thoughts of captivity for a moment,  to appreciate the intricate carving of the stonework that wound around the arched doorway by which he had just entered.

Never had the horseman seen such opulence, and his wonder and amazement were clear for the Prince to see. This was very gratifying for the Prince, who began to feel that the horseman was probably not such a bad fellow, for a barbarian prisoner. But whereas the horseman was making an unexpectedly good impression, the Captain’s glum and uneasy manner – perhaps there was even a suggestion of impatience in his constant fidgeting – was starting to irritate the Prince. He felt that the Captain’s behaviour was threatening to spoil the occasion, and that would be a shame for there are few more succulent pleasures than showing off your magnificent palace to an appreciative new captive.

The Prince could not hide his irritation with the Captain, and gave him a sharp lecture on the importance of being magnanimous in victory, of being civilised in conquest, and of sitting still in a chair.

Now this put the Captain in a very uncomfortable position indeed. Being such an experienced military man, he knew better than to contradict his superior, especially in the presence of an outsider. Besides which, he didn’t disagree with the Prince, but he would have to find an acceptable way to correct his misapprehensions.

He soon found his dilemma resolved.

The Prince, determined to enjoy the precious moment, told the Captain that he need fidget no longer; the time had come for him to give his report, in every detail, of the heroism that had culminated in the suppression of the valiant if savage barbarians, of whom the captive now before them was certainly an important leader whose presence here was a valued and significant tribute to his captor.

An order is an order, however courteously expressed, and so the Captain began his meticulously detailed report. He told of the gathering of the army, and numbered the men and horses in their thousands. He told of the long exhausting charge across the flood-plains and over the mountain passes, across the dry deserts and the endlessly wind-beaten savannah that rolled like an ocean between the Palace and the borderlands.

He told of the fatigue that befell the soldiers and the exhaustion that tore at the horses. But they were brave and strong, men and horses both, and after many days’ hard riding they reached the borderland garrison, needing only one day and one good night’s rest to fully recover their stamina and be ready for any adventure that lay ahead. They rested well that night and woke with the rising sun, fresh and lusty for the clamour of battle.

They prepared and mounted, and on the command to advance, like a mighty armada they rode the crest of the last hill before the plain, their standards raised like the proud sails of a fleet hungry to hunt down and drive unresisted at the heart of an overpowered enemy.

But as they set off to find and subdue the unruly barbarians they saw rising from the dawn mists of the steppe below them a sight that would never leave the memory of a single soul present on that day.

Massed down there on the immense and boundless open plain were endless ranks of horsemen, mounted and alert, facing them head-on, in such vast uncountable number as they could neither believe nor understand.

There was no horizon, no distant hill visible nor mountain range, just an armed swarm as far as could be seen till they merged with the clouds; still, silent and steaming in the morning sun; the land had become nothing but men and horses.

There was no battle.

*

The vanquished Prince sat cross-legged on the floor opposite the chief of the barbarians, who he had humiliatingly mistaken for a captive.

Now that the tables were turned, the Chief wanted to show that he too was a man of civilised manners. And anyway, he was too polite by nature to allow the Prince to suffer for his arrogant mistake. The customs of his fathers had taught the Chief always to welcome guests into his tent with the kindest hospitality, whoever they may be.  And though the Prince was a defeated aggressor, their conflict had cost no blood and the Chief felt no animosity towards him or his kingdom. And besides, he had no ornately palatial building in which to entertain the Prince, so he was determined to make up for this shortcoming with the most pleasant and welcoming reception he could put on.

Even so, he suspected that the feast spread before them was rather plain in comparison with the luxurious dining to which the Prince was accustomed. But there, he was doing his best, and no one could demand more. And his guest the Prince showed little sign of discomfort beyond his obvious awkwardness in sitting on the floor and eating with his fingers, and his understandable bewilderment at the events of the last few days.

When the Prince could no longer contain his curiosity, he begged permission to ask the questions that were puzzling him, and the Chief was quick to tell the Prince that he need not ask permission, but to feel free to speak openly.

The Prince nodded in reluctant gratitude, and asked why he had been brought to feast in a humble tent.

“Every evening when we have stopped and rested beside our horses we have eaten a simple soldiers’ meal. Why tonight do we feast? Is your kingdom so vast that you cannot wait until you reach your palace to feast?”

The Chief was as amused as the Prince was bemused.

“This is my palace. It was my father’s palace too.”

The Prince could not believe his ears.

“I have heard of a Palace that straddles an entire kingdom, but please do not mock me. This is but a tent.”

The Chief answered calmly. “Forgive me but I do not mock. Is this not a mighty palace?  For I can pack up my palace and move it wherever it is needed at a moment’s notice.  My palace is not confined to one spot as your poor stone one is.  It has no walls to fortify for it is invulnerable: if damaged it can be made new in a minute. Yet it protects a vast unvanquished kingdom that enemies dare not approach, as you have witnessed. Is it not the mightiest of all palaces that can cover and protect an entire kingdom?”

He smiled kindly and took the Prince’s hand as he said this, to make sure that the Prince remembered that he was not being mocked, because he had no wish to hurt the Prince.

The Prince was astonished. “I begin to understand your meaning, but if you have no towering  palace to inspire your kingdom, I wonder how you manage to raise so mighty an army so monstrous in size that just the sight of it was enough to annihilate the fighting spirit of my kingdom’s strongest warriors. Please tell me, what is the secret?”

“There is no secret.

This infinite palace is always open to my countless friends. While you draw in all the riches of your kingdom to enlarge and beautify your shimmering palace, I sit here on this mat on the floor of my tent, sheltered from the winds and weathers, and tend to my brave and loyal kingdom which prospers because it is free to do so.”

“But once and for all,”  the Prince asked perhaps a little impatiently, “which is more magnificent to behold, your vast land of tents, or my glorious palace?” 

He thought a little before answering with a new smile: “I should like you to ponder this. In whose kingdom should we search for the answer to such a question?”

The Prince kicked a small dust-beetle, and stared at the tent roof and wondered.

*

The Chief and the Prince became firm friends and allies, and their two kingdoms became one.

He of course allowed the Prince to remain in his palace, although new building work was stopped at once, and he became a frequent and welcome guest there, but he had no wish  to move himself in, or to build a palace for himself. He continued to live in his tent, which moved to new frontiers and witnessed fresh victories as each year passed, in the same manner as that over the forces of the Prince.

They debated in circles for many many nights, and for many years too, but never were they able to resolve their difference of opinion about the tent and the palace. The Chief regularly consoled the Prince by reminding him that no matter how magnificent a palace or an empire one might possess, a greater power would one day emerge and see an end to their reign, as this was the way of the world.

And the Prince would look to the tent roof and wonder.

*

In time, after the Chief and the Prince had been succeeded by many generations, their combined Kingdom flagged and  fell to a horde from the north, which in due course was vanquished by hordes from within its own borders. After these pulsations of power had been repeated many times over, nothing remained of the Kingdom of the Sun, or its glorious palace, but for a few stone peacocks lying blindly in overgrown corners of seldom-visited gardens, and a few dislocated stories that can no longer be believed.

And a calmer and more pleasant place for a traveller to pitch a tent and rest for a peaceful evening would be hard to imagine.

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