People still remember and talk about the glory of the king, about how he took his throne, about how he crushed the enemies of the kingdom so many years ago. The king grows old, but people still love and honor the king.
"Your majesty, there is a... um... situation, sir," the captain says, sheepishly.
The king is seated at a large wooden table covered in old scrolls and parchments, peering intently into one pressed almost to his face so that his failing eyes can see the print. He looks up from the paper at the captain, who looks winded and disheveled. Placing the paper on the table, he says "Tell me, captain."
The captain clears his throat. "Well, your majesty, a scoundrel has camped in your apple orchard, sir. He's eating your apples without your leave, sir."
The king looks puzzled. "Well, captain, send some guards and ask the man to leave. No great harm to lose a few apples."
"Yes," the captain chooses his words carefully, "we've... uh... tried that, sire. We sent two guards to chase him away and... uh... he thrashed them soundly, your majesty." The captain fidgeted nervously. "He's a scrappy one, this fellow. So, we... uh... sent an armed unit of twenty guards to arrest the man. He's unarmed, mind you. To be honest, your majesty, they were lucky to escape with their lives. He's really quite a formidable opponent, sir. Like none I've ever seen."
"How strange," said the king. An idea flickered in his mind briefly, but he couldn't hold on to it. "Who is the man, captain?"
"A stranger, majesty, a wild looking fellow. Bare feet, bare chest, crude, leather breeches. There is another thing, sir."
"Well, what is it, man?" A name flashed in the king's mind, but, again, he couldn't hold it. He cursed his aged body, not for the first time.
"Well, he... uh... insists that he want to see the king, sire. He says... uh... I hate to say it, sire."
"Say it, man. Come on."
"He says, forgive me, sir, 'Tell that old ruffian that these are not his apples but mine and that I expect him to come here and beg my forgiveness for eating them.' He's insufferable, your majesty."
The king bolted to his feet, his heart pounding. "Take me to him!" he ordered, a bewildered look on his face.
"No, sir, please. I cannot allow that. We'll send soldiers. He's too dangerous a man, sire. You must not go."
"Captain, if you value the time you have left you will take me to him now," the king ordered again, heading for the door as quickly as he could manage.
"Majesty, I beg you to reconsider this."
But the king was not listening. His mind was racing. 'It cannot be him,' he thought. 'It's been too many years. It cannot be possible.' Still, his heart hammered in his chest, and some part of him knew already. He had to see him.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
