Royalty ?

KING  FI ONYU

 

The trumpets are adorned in hanging gold braid. The blare, lets us all know the king is awake and will be waving to us, his 'country men', from the palace balcony at exactly noon. By 11:30 the gardens are filled with the curious, those asking favors, the angry peasants, most of whom would slay the king with one mighty stroke if the chance would somehow come. The lack of smiles, happiness, is evident to all but the king. Those of us who have so little while he and his wives live like gods who sleep at ease on silken sheets, are hungry, angry, full of  hatred and jealousy.

 

He appears, our mighty king. All heads bow. The Queen is absent. Another woman dressed in satin and lace is tall, taller than the King. She stands one step in back of him yet is very visible. There is a buzz of garbled voices as we talk to each other, wondering what is happening. Once the guards appear around the King, we need wonder no more. The taller guard lifts his arm high and displays a wired cage holding the queen's head. Not a sound escapes from the peasants. One yell, one objection, and there might be another cage with the head of whoever spoke out of turn.

 

The new woman looks around, doesn't smile. She claps her hands for attention and there is silence at once. Regally she speaks, 'I am Queen Forrah Wile. You be good or you will lose your head too. The taxes on your little pieces of ground will double in one week. King Fi Onyu still gets half of your wheat and I will get the wine you make and hide from your King. The haughty queen has nothing else to say. She turns her back on the peasants, spits on the head in the wire cage, and
disappears inside the castle.

 

There is sudden turmoil. Strong, mighty winds blow in from the west. Thatch roofed huts blow away. Cows and goats are lifted into the air. Mooing, grunting, they soar out of sight. Mothers hold their children as tightly as they can, tie them with their apron strings to the sparse trees that remain standing. The boys and men who are able rush to the castle, use their rakes, rocks and pound on the great gate. It is as if the God of Peace and Harmony sees them, comes to their rescue. The gates are opened by no one. A mad rush of peasants first find the great kitchens, stop and fill themselves with loaves of golden bread, roasted pig, pomegranates, grapes. Bottles of sweet burgundy wine wash down the sand in their throats. On the swords of dead soldiers are the bodies of King Fi Onyu and the new, late queen, Forrah Wile.

 

There is much merriment and glee, singing, dancing. Young, handsome, virile Count Onmee is made the new king. He distributes, as fairly as is possible, the remaining food, the gold and jewels from the chests in the former King's bedrooms.

 

Every peasant receives something. Count Onmee and his wife move into the castle, have two huge separate bedrooms with their own chambermaids, ewers, silk sheets. Their good intentions last for many years. The town flourishes, becomes a city.

 

When his time has come and Count Onmee breathes his last breath, his son, Viceroy O. Migh, declares himself King and is shot down with an arrow before he ever has a chance to rule.