As King Alexander and his council were discussing matters of state, a messenger suddenly burst into the throne room, announcing three court jesters.
Shortly thereafter, three court jesters entered. One was juggling and the other performing acrobatics. The courtiers’ faces lit up. Some gasped in amazement. One juggler was a burly man with a shaved head and a bushy beard, wearing a colorful jester’s outfit with bells jingling at his ankles. He strode forward with his arms held wide. Large muscles rippled beneath his tight-fitting tunic, and the bells on his shoes chimed with each boisterous step. His wide grin revealed a set of crooked and yellowed teeth, and his bushy beard was tangled and unkempt. The sound of clanging and ringing bells blended with the soft whispers and giggles of the courtiers.
The big jester cleared his throat with his head held high. “Oi, Yer Majesty,” he said, “Ho ho! Lookie me! Name’s Gorzak the Tenderizer, the funniest nincompoop ye ever saw in all the kingdom! My japes will ‘ave ye doubled over, an’ my tossin’ about o’ things will make yer noggin whirl like a dervish. By the twinklin’ stars, ain’t no soul can match me tricks o’ the hand an’ flippin’ about! Allow me the joy o’ ticklin’ yer funny bone, an’ I’ll leave ya with a memory so sweet, it’ll stick around like the stink o’ a long-gone drake!”
The second jester was a woman of striking elegance and beauty, with a mop of curly red hair and a warm, welcoming smile. She wore a stunning jester’s outfit, meticulously designed with a blend of yellow and orange hues, adorned with intricate patterns of stripes and polka dots. With graceful poise, she balanced a colorful parasol on her nose, adding a touch of whimsy to her appearance.
"Your Majesty, I am Clara Bellamy, a humble bard in service to the muse of merriment and melody. I have traveled far and wide, weaving tales and spinning songs that dance upon the wind like leaves in autumn's embrace. Allow me the honor of sharing my artistry with your court, that I may bring a touch of grace and beauty to your noble halls."
The third jester was a rather unsettling figure. He was tall and thin, with a hunched back and a bony frame. His tall and thin figure had a sickly pale skin color, almost translucent, and deep set eyes shrouded in darkness. His crooked and misshapen nose looked like it had been broken and never properly healed.. But it was his ears, or lack thereof, that truly made him stand out. Instead of ears, he had two smooth, featureless patches of skin on the sides of his head.
Despite his eerie appearance, the old man wore colorful and flamboyant clothing, with a green and purple jester’s hat perched atop his head. He wore a ruffled white shirt, a deep red velvet coat with golden buttons, and black trousers. He adorned his fingers with rings of various shapes and sizes, and he carried a small, ornate box in his hands. As he approached the throne, he limped slightly, his movements slow and deliberate.
“Hark! Salutations, Your Highness!” he said with a surprising flourish. “‘Tis I, Old Ealhun, the itinerant minstrel and roving troubadour. I hath wandered long and far, spinning tales of romance and despair, of valiant knights and wicked knaves, of mirth and melancholy. It fills me with utmost delight to bask in your regal countenance, and I humbly extend my pitiful gifts for your royal court’s pleasure.”
King Alexander shifted in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes darted between each one, a frown tugging at the corner of his cheeks.
General Pikener spoke up first. “May it please, Your Majesty, if I may be so bold as to express my view, jest, and merriment can often prove to be a formidable weapon in our arsenal. A timely and well-aimed quip hath the power to ease the strain of a taxing predicament or to assuage a contentious dispute.”
Haemon nodded in agreement. “Thou art most perceptive, my dear interlocutor. The warmth and hospitality of a gracious smile and a jovial spirit can indeed work wonders in putting visitors at ease and making them feel welcome in our midst. May we always strive to embody the virtues of kindness, compassion, and good humor in our interactions with others, that we may build strong and lasting bonds of fellowship and understanding.”
“I appreciate your efforts,” the king said, “but I must confess that I am still uncertain about this. Humor has its place, but I do not want our court to be seen as a jest.”
The general and the steward nodded in agreement, and the courtiers fell silent, waiting for the king’s decision.
King Alexander spoke. “I shall permit one of thee to join our court, but take heed. Thy jests must be tasteful and dignified. I will not abide any vulgarity or disrespect. Let us see what thou art capable of.”
Gorzak went first. He deftly juggled a set of six wooden clubs of various sizes, tossing them high into the air and catching them with ease. As he continued to juggle, he incorporated some acrobatic feats, leaping into the air and somersaulting before catching the clubs again. The bells on his outfit jingled throughout the throne room as he performed.
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King Arthur said, “Gorzak, thy spirited zeal and unique skills are indeed worthy of note, yet thy jesting style doesn’t quite harmonize with the decorum of our court. I express sincere goodwill for thy forthcoming ventures.”
Gorzak bowed deeply and left the throne room, his bells jingling as he went.
Clara stepped forward and performed a dance for the king, her movements graceful and fluid. She twisted and turned, leaping into the air and landing lightly on her feet. As she danced, she sang a tune, her voice sweet and melodic. The courtiers clapped along and cheered while the king’s council exchanged nods.
Harken, harken, heed my humble tale, I pray,
Of dragons dark and knights in shining mail,
Of maidens fair with beauty none can fray,
A saga that shall your very soul assail.
Wizards' wondrous magic, grand for all to see,
Trolls lurking in the shadows, dark and free,
Feasts, songs, and wine we'll share with jubilee,
Till voices hoarse, and hands are spent with glee.
So gather, my gallant lords, to hear my lay,
Let your hearts and souls be swept away,
With tales that stir your minds and spirits, they,
To a world of wonder, come what may.
Forsooth, my lords, let not my song betray,
But let its beauty bloom like a rose bouquet,
And fill your hearts with joy, bright as the day,
As memories of my minstrelsy hold sway.
So raise your goblets high, to stories bold,
Of heroes brave, and treasures of old,
In lands where dreams and magic unfold,
Let the bard's song be your stronghold.
In the court of kings, where legends are told,
A jester sings, with heart and soul, so bold,
Of ancient tales, in melodies that enfold,
The hearts of all, in a timeless hold.
So listen well, to the jester's song,
In his words, the past and future belong,
Let your imagination fly, swift and strong,
To realms of wonder, where you belong.
For in every tale, a truth is spun,
Of battles fought, and victories won,
Of love and loss, beneath the sun,
In the end, we are all but one.
So heed the jester's call, with a joyful heart,
Let his words and music, never depart,
For in his songs, a magic does impart,
A light to guide you, through the dark.
And so the jester sings, his final refrain,
In the court of kings, where memories remain,
His song echoes on, like a sweet, soft rain,
A gift of joy, to soothe all pain.
As Clara finished her performance, King Alexander chuckled and clapped his hands. “Your music is refined, and I believe it would be a perfect fit for our court,” he said with a smile.
Haemon, interrupted, “If it would please Your Highness, we still have one more talented performer in our midst. Old Ealhun is his name, and they say him to be a master of words and melodies that can stir the heart and bring tears to the eyes. I am eager to witness his skills firsthand before you decide.” The courtiers murmured their agreement.
Earless Old Ealhun then strummed a few chords gently on his lute. His fingers expertly danced over the strings. The court fell silent as a melody filled the room. The king closed his eyes, tapping a foot.
In ancient times, a king did reign
With wisdom vast and might untamed
His voice was strong, his heart was pure
The land was safe; the people sure
“Oh, the king of old, a legend born
With sword in hand, his foes were torn
His memory lives in hearts and minds
The greatest king of all of time
His love was true, his courage bold
With every step, he paved the road
To peace and justice, he led the way
His rule brought light to darkest day
Though he has passed, his legacy remains
In every heart, his memory sustained
The land he loved, now in his son’s hand
A noble king, to lead our land
So let us sing, of his noble name
And honor him, with eternal fame
The king of old, forevermore
His memory lives forevermore.
As the last note echoed through the hall, the courtiers applauded. King Alexander opened his eyes, his gaze meeting Ealhun’s. “I give my thanks upon thee,” he said, a note of sadness in his voice.
Ealhun bowed, a small smile on his face. “‘Twas a great honor, Thy Majesty,”
After a moment of consideration, he turned to his advisors. “What a spectacle! Verily, Ealhun possesses a divine endowment for the craft of narratives and melodies. He evoked a wellspring of emotion within me and instilled bliss in my heart. I perceive he could be a precious asset to our royal court. Pray, what is thy counsel, my trusted advisors?” he asked, furrowing his brow.
Haemon of the Dark Omens cleared his throat. “I concur in entirety that Ealhun would indeed make a magnificent asset to our court, as shown by his ingenious and diverting melody, as well as his apparent cordial temperament and affable manner. May we perpetually strive to gather such gifted and congenial souls in our vicinity, so that we might benefit from their fellowship and be elevated by their expertise.”
General Pikener nodded in agreement. “Your Majesty, I am in total accord with your sentiment. Ealhun indeed bears a natural talent for entertainment and diversion, and I reckon he could serve a crucial role in raising our morale in times of strife.”
“Dear Ealhun the Elder,” began King Alexander, “thy tune has touched the very depths of my soul. I am stirred by the profound sentiments thou hast imparted through thy melody. Thou holdest a scarce ability for weaving captivating tales and plucking at the heartstrings of thy audience. The respect thou payest to my sire and his noble deeds for our dominion is truly laudable. Not to forget, thy mastery of the lute is striking.” He glanced at Old Ealhun with a grin. “What sayest thou, art thou willing to assume the role of court jester and serve our realm with thy skills?”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said with a wide grin. “I will not disappoint.”
The room erupted into cheers and applause, and Ealhun bowed deeply in gratitude.
The Old Croll jotted out a contract for Old Ealhun, to the tune of 31 gold per year. The King signed it. Ealhun left the throne room with a huge grin on his face.