The King Of Late

“The king is dead.” These were ill-fated words for some- but golden for many. The king was a cruel man. A proud, disdainful, brutal and harsh species of mankind who considered himself above it. What of him now? Off he goes to a marble tomb with no air and no company for the rest of eternity. Granted that unlike most of the mankind that is buried he will have a larger grave- as large as a room maybe; but what good will it do to him? None whatsoever.

“He has died.”
This was met by tears- of relief; of joy.
“We can now be together- I am, so happy.”
They hugged. Tears streaming down their faces. They were but one of many who had been affected by the cruelty of the late king. Tatiana had refused to marry the seventy two year old barbarous king and as a result had been in hiding for six years now. She had been beautiful- still was. But six years in hiding had given her face premature wrinkles in the forehead and under her eyes. Her eyes that once were an innocent sky blue now had a hardening to them. She had seen the harsh side of life at a very young age. Even though she was now back with her fiancé of seven years she doubted she could ever love him the way she once had. After all, he was a man- just like that unkind king….

“He’s dead, ma.”
The woman with more gray in her hair than black looked up into the eyes of her daughter. Eyes that had anger, hatred and an emotion she couldn’t define. Her eyes on the other hand had only tears. Tears for her fate, tears for the harshness of life, and tears in memory of her dead son. Son who had been killed by ‘the king’s men’ because he had refused to hand his sister over to a friend of ‘his majesty’. The sister was abducted anyway and that was the last they had heard of her. Now it was only her and her youngest daughter left. The tears in her eyes spilled.

“The king,” the speaker said and took a deep breath, “is dead.”
The seven listeners all stood up and began talking excitedly.
“Does that mean we get all our lands back?”
“Can we go back home then please, papa?”
“We will have enough to eat now?”
“We wont go hungry again now, will we?”
“We……”

“That roughshod of a king has finally left us all in peace!”
It had no effect whatsoever on the young widow. She had lost her beloved husband- nothing else mattered. Oh, once she did want revenge- wanted to kill her king with her bare hands. Now she didn’t care. All she wanted was to have her husband back. The death of the king didn’t bring her husband back. Nothing would. She glanced at the cot and the sleeping infant in it. He would grow up without a father. A boy needed a father. It was natural. Yet he wouldn’t have one. One unlucky boy, this. Having lost his father even before he was born. The widow buried her head in her hands and cried yet again…
How one life affects this many and more is astonishing. The effect on their lives doesn’t melt away with that person’s demise. It continues- as they continue to suffer…