RYR: Rich Young Ruler

By Will Robertson

WHAT IF YOU: - Followed Jesus long enough to believe that Jesus could authoritatively answer one of the most important questions anybody could have. - Were of such a character that you could honestly say to Jesus in a face to face conversation that you had followed God's laws from your youth. - Actually said as much to Jesus' face and he didn't chastise you for stating a falsehood. - Were looked upon with love by Jesus. - Were offered a seat at Jesus side, with Jesus using the same exact words that he used in his offers to several of his apostles. - Found that you had to decline the offer because you would have actually been doing the dishonorable thing by accepting. - Walked away from Jesus, so grieved that you couldn't say another word. - Were used from that time forward as an example of dishonorable, soul destroying love of wealth. You would probably want a book like this written about you! If you are not a Christian, there is a chance that you have heard the story of the Rich Young Ruler and what a selfish guy he was, simply because it is an intriguing story. He is usually treated like a puppet who is popped out of a box, used as an example of what not to be, and popped back into the box-end of story. If you have been a Christian (for more than about ten minutes), then you almost certainly have heard a sermon of similar ilk. However, consider the following: 1. He was the only person in the Bible to ask Jesus such a direct question as he asked. 2. When told by Jesus that he would have to keep the commandments-specifically not murder, fornicate, steal, lie, defraud, as well as honor his father and mother-he stated that he had "kept all these things from my youth" (Matthew 19:18-20, Mark 10:19-20, and Luke 18:20-21). Not many people would have the temerity to make that claim right there in front of Jesus, a.k.a. God on Earth! 3. And Jesus didn't chastise him for being dishonest-quite the opposite. "And looking at him, Jesus felt a love for him" (Mark 10:21). Nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, ever had that specifically said about them before that or after that. Yes, Jesus loved the world (generically), he loved his old friend Lazarus (specifically), but absolutely nobody simply walked up as a stranger to Jesus and experience the direct love of God on Earth in a face-to-face encounter. NOBODY. This gives him a biblical stature unique in the Gospel. 4. And, before it was all over, the words Jesus used, the exact words, "Come, follow Me," were the same used when Jesus asked several other apostles to follow him. THE EXACT SAME WORDS. So, had an invitation been extended to the RYR to become another apostle? Seems so. And he was the only one given that offer to ever turn it down. 5. It stands to reason that no one has such an encounter with Jesus and walks away unchanged, so RYR walked away "grieved," without saying another word. It also seems reasonable that this grief was soul deep. Life-changing deep. Now, there had to be some powerful motivation for RYR to walk away. Was it just love of money/property/possessions, or could there have been more to it than that? What could that have been? When you consider all the above, you can see that this episode/encounter is much more complicated than that presented on the surface. Young Ruler had a life before, during, and after his encounter with Jesus and was apparently a stellar individual of rare integrity, given his reception by Jesus. To risk rejecting Jesus's offer for the sake of only property seems much too shallow for this man. This book, though partially fiction, offers a deeper examination into the life, mind, and possible motives surrounding this story. Personally, I think, when listening to a sermon denigrating the man, I think the man is being framed. One thing is for sure: once you read this book, you will never read the biblical account, or think of the Rich Young Ruler, in the same way again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781646703029

Book preview

Preface

Most of this book, RYR: Rich Young Ruler, is fiction. However, the premise for the book is based on fact. Many books today present their stories in a historical context, and you can list this book in that category. In order to assist in delineating fact from fiction, the segment below—the introduction, which talks about the people, places, and critters in the story—makes an effort toward that end. Beyond the obvious, that this book is fiction, several other points need to be made concerning the makeup of this book.

First is that this book is not your typical Christian book sanitized of unsavory things. I cannot recommend it for people of delicate sensitivities. It is a book written from an adult perspective and for adults. This book is not for children—unless you want your children to have nightmares! Some of the images in this book will be very disturbing, and the mental images may stay with you for some time. I justify this because I felt an obligation to realistically counterpoise the brutality of the Roman Empire with the loving grace of Jesus, and how the two could hardly have lived side by side. If you have ever read The Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, I would posit this book as something of a counterpoise by journeying in the opposite direction.

The second thing is that, although I have gone to some pains to ensure that the sequence of events are as presented in the Bible, the timing of events were just too unwieldy for me to maintain perfect accuracy in this short (compared to the New Testament) book. These deviations from strict biblical accuracy were done for the obvious purpose of moving the story forward in a timely manner.

The third thing has to do with my effort to give this book some scholarly quality. You will note that the real-life characters are presented in a way consistent with their power and position, as well as their familial and political ties, as known in factual history. They are as close to the real characters as I could manage. Also note that all the supporting characters in the ancient Israel setting have names that pay homage to Old or New Testament real people. The names, in no particular order, are listed at the end of the book, along with a short explanation of just who they were and what their claims to fame, or infamy, were in Scripture. There is some blatant symbolism that may, or may not, cause some controversy. This was incidental to the story and came upon me by surprise as the story evolved. I left it as it was and will react to any criticism as I deem appropriate.

Lastly, in order to allay my fears of misrepresenting the Bible, I will say that I am just human and will not catch all the mistakes herein. I want to emphasize that this is a book of fiction and I don’t want to mislead anyone. I try to adopt an abundance of caution where God is concerned and always have in the back of my mind this concept: might God have a problem with someone using elements of the Bible to write a story that would leave the reader with an understanding he had not intended? The fear of doing this scares the beejeebees out of me! (Please, don’t ask me what a beejeebee is. I have no idea, but if you have an ounce of imagination/humor, you know exactly what I mean.) See what it says in the book of Revelation, chapter 22, verse 18, and give that warning the broadest application, whereby it could mean the whole of the Bible (as codified at the Council of Trent) and treat the whole of the Bible as prophecy. So, in the strongest terms I can offer: read the Bible and get the real story straight from the source.

Introduction

About the people, places, and critters in story.

Rich Young Ruler. This Young Ruler is a combination of a real person, as presented in the Bible, and a fictional person, presented here as a function of storytelling.

Why him? Why write about a man who is stereotypically too greedy for his own good? Because, when one actually gets down in the weeds and examines the details of what is written about him in the Bible, he becomes, arguably, one of the more impressive characters to be found in the New Testament. The bottom line is that I think he has historically gotten a bum rap and I want to fix it! Toward that end, I offer the following:

He was an actual person with a past, present, and future. He didn’t pop out of a box, have a dialogue with Jesus, and disappear back into the box. So, it is logical that he followed Jesus long enough to realize who Jesus was, accept that he would get an authoritative answer from Jesus, and respond appropriately—which is exactly what happened. For such a short encounter, a great deal happened, and we are all the better for it, and his story that remains to this day. Although unnamed, he is literally a character of biblical proportions.

Jesus did not contradict or correct the young man when he said that he had followed the commandments from a youth up. Apparently the young man already had a highly honorable character.

Jesus felt love for him. Jesus loved Lazarus, an old friend, and Jesus loved people in general; however, nowhere else in the Bible is it noted that the love of Jesus fell upon someone this specifically. Special person? Indeed.

The words in Greek that Jesus uses to offer the young man a position amongst the disciples are the same words he used to invite some of the other Apostles who accepted. Could he have been offered a position as an Apostle? I don’t see why not. The only thing he lacked (Jesus’s words, not mine) was poverty.

When he was told that he had to give away his wealth, his face fell and he went away grieved. What would motivate him to do something that would cause him grief, that is, walk away? He did it because he had to. The young man was in a contradictory position. By giving away his wealth, an apparently selfless act, he would actually be using his wealth to buy his way into God’s kingdom—an act of complete selfishness. Can one selfishly buy his way into heaven? I think not. This was possibly the original damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. Jesus knew this, and the young man knew this too, so the only action open to him was to walk away—hence, grieved because, ostensibly, the door to eternal life was closed.

Knowing the position that the young man was in (easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God), Jesus offers a path of salvation to the young man, and to rich people everywhere, by saying that all things are possible with God. Young Ruler could still enter the kingdom of God; however, it was just going to be a lot harder for him because of his wealth. My bet is that he became an exemplary personage to all those around him. My bet is that he used his wealth wisely. It would be really interesting to meet him in heaven someday. I’d love to know how his story actually turned out. And, I’d love to get his reaction to this book!

And this is why I undertook the telling of his story.

He has no name! Why is that? My answer is that it is because he is not given a name in the Bible. A name carries all sorts of baggage in the form of connotations. The Bible gives him neither a name nor a country nor a sect nor even an actual age. It is simply a matter of tradition that he is even considered young. Perhaps because he ran up to Jesus, it is implied that he was both rash and spry—hence young. Perhaps that is it. Otherwise, he is just a generic man. And, as such, is able to command a more universal quality. Imagine the impact of his story if Young Ruler had been introduced as twenty-year-old Prince Hesham from Cairo came rushing up to him? It just wouldn’t have worked.

The last things to be mentioned about him is that there is no evidence that he witnessed the miracle at Nain, nor is there any evidence that he ever met Simon the Magician, Joanna or Susanna, nor that he had an inclination toward becoming a Jew. He may have already been a Jew, but not necessarily so. However, he had to come from somewhere, and he had to have joined Jesus’s entourage at some point, so I picked as I did and claim poetic license for any trespasses.

Pontius Pilate, Herod Antipas, Herod Philip, Herodias, Salome, Chuza, Joanna, Susanna, and Manaen. These were all real people and depicted in the book as accurately as I could within their historic context and within their relationships with each other. A liberty was taken in the assumption that Joanna and Manaen were friends. However, this does seem to be reasonable in that they were both part of Herod’s close retinue, and both had personalities that sought out, and had great interest in, Jesus. Joanna was Chuza’s wife and a devotee to Jesus. And Manaen eventually became a prophet, teacher, and major leader in the early congregation at Antioch.

Although most of the specific actions of these characters are fictionalized, some are factual. Salome’s dance that led to the beheading of John the Baptist was an actual event. For other examples, please read your Bible.

Qumran and the Essenes. This is an actual place in the mountains (as opposed to being in a valley as indicated in the book) just to the northwest of the Dead Sea. It was built by a very strict, pure, Jewish separatist cult called the Essenes, and as such probably did not have an arena, nor is it likely a place where events depicted would, or could, have happened.

Seraph. Fire serpents. These were probable actual creatures! Please note the following evidence: The book of Numbers 21:6, 7 identifies fiery serpents befalling the wandering Jews as punishment for their sins. This was well before the time of Jesus on earth. Now, scoot forward a little over 1,500 years when a European scientist, Prosper Alpin, wrote of them in his natural history of Egypt in the years 1581–84. Although he did not observe them himself, his sources placed them in the region of the source waters of the Nile River. A second verification comes from another European, a linguist named Bochart (c. 1650), who wrote of flying snakes with venomous bites that kill with pain worse than fire.

Since fire serpents (or Basil, or seraph, as they are also known) apparently lived well before, as well as after, the time of Jesus, there is every reason to believe that they were alive during his time on earth and in the same general vicinity. Of course, if you are of the ilk that only accepts the Old Earth theory, and that dinosaurs, called dragons prior to the invention of this word, died out prior to man’s evolution, then please accept them as fantastic creations used for the advancement of the story line. The seraph were convenient and interesting to use in advancing the story, but their actuality is a nonissue. If you, as do I, think of them as actual denizens of the times, that’s fine; as well, if you choose not to believe that they exist, please account them to the realm of fiction for the purpose of telling a story.

The Dead Man Raised at Nain. This was an actual man that lived and died in Nain. Jesus did raise him from the dead. The dead man’s accomplishments and the name Ezra were of my choosing. This name was chosen because of a desire to have an Old Testament counterpart. See the addendum for details about the biblical Ezra.

Simon the Magician. This man actually existed and can be found in Acts 8:9–24. He was a Samaritan, but there is no evidence that he actually witnessed Jesus. He was so impressed by the apostle Philip that he briefly became a follower and even insisted on being baptized. To him, apparently, Christianity was just another form of magic that he wanted to acquire. According to some writings, Simon’s magic in Rome was so impressive that a statue was erected in his honor there.

Jesus and the Apostles. Of course he and his Apostles were real, and I have done my best to maintain their actions true to the Bible. I did the best I could to maintain accuracy. Any deviation from the truth was through ignorance or necessity, not malice or intent to deceive. For all of you biblical scholars out there: about the errors—if they irritate you, please forgive me. I did my best.

Miriam, Sarah, Chimham, Achan, the Twins, Ester, etc. All these characters are fictional characters of this story and only serve to fill the story with people and possible events of the time. They provide the vehicle, the matrix if you will, within which Young Ruler lives, learns, and grows. See the addendum for details.

That about does it. I have purged my conscience of any blatant variations from biblical teachings. If you have any questions, or doubts, as to any other portion of RYR: Rich Young Ruler, please feel free to read your Bible to clarify that question.

My goal for this book is to educate and entertain by telling an intriguing story, as well as clear the name of an oft-maligned gentleman. I pray that you find it successful.

Prologue

A rich young ruler who lived long ago was very wise and very much loved by his people that, as it turned out, was a miracle. As well, his country was at peace, and his people were prospering. And this too was a miracle. For you see, the young man’s actions from early youth through young adult had given him a well-earned reputation, that of a feckless fop. So an understandable fear ran deep that once he became the ruler, his lack of everything needed to be a good ruler would ruin the country. Then neighboring countries would take advantage of the chaos, invade their kingdom, and enslave them all—for that was the custom and history of the region. However, a certain event took place that changed everything.

So just what was this certain event that changed things so dramatically? As it turned out, it was a dream. Of course, this was no ordinary dream to be sure. It certainly wasn’t one of those dreams that come and go. No, not this dream. This was a forever-and-ever dream. It was a dream so powerful that the adventures and miracles within it spilled out of it and into the real world!

It was a dream for the ages and, as such, deserved a story for the ages.

This story.

All in all, our young ruler, from prince to king, lived a life filled with intrigues and adventures. And many of these adventures are stories well worth telling around an evening campfire. However, this first story, this story of his miraculous dream, is by far the most important—

because it is the beginning of everything good.

Chapter 1

Polo

Thwack! The three-inch, hard plastic polo ball rose from the grassy lawn at nearly eighty miles an hour and sailed downfield toward the north goal. So far, it was one of the longer drives of the match—and that was saying something. This match had not only been filled with spectacular shots, but it was one of the roughest matches Young Ruler had ever ridden. He had been bumped and double-teamed for most of the last four chukkers, so what little patience he had was wearing thin. It didn’t help that he had stayed up until two o’clock this morning, drinking. The guys he was drinking with weren’t really friends, but they were better than nothing, which was what he was used to. He wished he had been smarter. He had a hangover and a pain in his gut that kept him on the verge of puking. As well, he had an increased realization that he ran with a pretty crummy bunch. If all this weren’t bad enough, his team captain, and first cousin on his father’s side, Hank, seemed to have it in for him. In fact, it seemed like everybody had it in for him today.

The ball sailed his way, and his head seemed to be Hank’s target. He didn’t see how that could happen. That kind of accuracy was impossible; nevertheless, it happened. Finally getting a track on the flying ball, he pulled Little Poco to the left to avoid getting beaned—and it was a good thing he did. He had just ducked the ball when a fast mallet nearly took his ear off. It hit the ball in midair and reversed the line of flight. That was a close call—and another almost impossible thing…but impossible things seemed to be the rule of the day. The rider that hit the ball, Reginald, captain of the other team, slammed past him with a laugh and chased back toward the south end of the field.

Damn him! cursed Young Ruler. That was a close one. Where’s the umpire? he asked himself, but he was too busy to look around for an answer.

He pulled Little Poco into a quick 180 and hung on as the little pony turned on a dime and gave him nine cents change. He charged back down field, and the thunder of hooves grew louder as two ponies from the opposing team, and two more from his own, joined up with him. The two riders from his team maneuvered into position and nudged the others away from him. The right of way for the ball wasn’t clear, but Young Ruler’s track gave him the best chance of getting it. At least the rest of his team was helping him this time. That was good.

They were all moving in on the ball, and the fray was getting thick. The right of way was still obstructed because of Reginald, who was just ahead of him and to his right. Young Ruler took a quick glance around to locate the umpires. They were marginally out of position, so even though it was risky, he decided to do it. He pulled up close to Reginald’s left side and poked Reginald’s horse in the ribs with his mallet. The horse jumped to the right. Perfect. Young Ruler pushed Little Poco into the opening and took the right of way for his own. He pulled even with Reginald, they were on the ball now, and bumped Reginald even farther right, just to irritate him. He needed to reverse the course of the ball, so he swung his mallet back, up, and down in a nearside backhand shot. But just as his mallet came across the front of his pony, he felt it stop. Reginald had reached in front of his pony’s legs and hooked his mallet! Where were those umpires? Little Poco, with his forelegs nearly fouled, pulled up short, and Young Ruler was thrown forward and left. This took them out of contention for the remainder of the play. Reginald converted the charge into a goal by spinning his horse around and connecting with a flashy, near-side-neck shot. Classique was ahead of Palace Guard three to two.

Young Ruler was full-on mad now. He’d have to do something about this guy. Since the first bowl-in, Reginald had made it his purpose in life to be a pest. Between Hank and Reginald, this had become more of a fight for survival than a polo match, and both of the umpires as well as the referee seemed to be turning a blind eye. Young Ruler turned and looked at Hank, expecting a protest. It didn’t happen. Hank was trotting off downfield, ignoring the situation. Since his team captain wasn’t going to press for a penalty, and even though it was against the rules as well as a breach of etiquette, Young Ruler decided to say something.

Hey, ump! Young Ruler called out as he rode over to a little man a big horse. Didn’t you see me get hooked out there?

The taciturn little man answered him coldly, No. Then he followed with, You’re supposed to go through your captain to lodge a complaint. You’re not supposed to be talking to me.

Well, what about that midair hit that nearly took my ear off? You saw that, didn’t you? That was dangerous. I want a penalty for misuse of stick and intimidation.

Did you get hit? Are you injured? the little man asked. Obviously he wasn’t interested in anything Young Ruler had to say. The ball is in play, he said. You better get back to your team.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw that, indeed, one of his teammates had knocked in to begin the play without waiting for him. Disgusted, he turned toward the match and rocketed Little Poco back into war. He had just positioned himself to accept another hit when he saw that Hank was wide open for a powerful, free follow-through shot. Hank took good advantage of it, and if Young Ruler didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Hank was aiming at his head—again. He watched the ball rise through the air and come toward him, then did his best to get out of the way. All of a sudden, it happened just like last time! Reginald came out of nowhere and caught the ball in midair right near his head. This time though it was even closer, and the hit sounded as if a firecracker had gone off in his ear. A sharp pain stabbed his right temple, just below the line of his helmet, but there wasn’t time to bother with that. The play had reversed direction again, and he had to get back down field. It just wouldn’t do to let Classique score twice with the same maneuver. He was just about to lay into Poco when he saw that he could relax. The second umpire had blown the whistle for a time-out. At last, Young Ruler thought, Reginald will get that penalty for intimidation; but instead, the second umpire was looking at the ball, then he got off his horse and picked it up.

Splinter, he called loudly and rode it over to the midfield referee for confirmation.

A new ball was brought into play, and a new bowl-in started things off. For some reason, the lack of a foul being called didn’t seem very important to Young Ruler anymore. He watched it all happen in the narrow focus of a daze. No one happened to look his way to see the red stain that was beginning to creep down the right side of his face. As well, his thoughts had clouded to the point that he noticed neither the red stain nor the tunneling of his thinking and his vision. He just instinctively turned his pony to go after the ball and charged ahead.

The ball had come to a stop midfield, and three other riders were converging on it. All Young Ruler could comprehend was that he had two things to do. One was to get the ball, and the second was to get even with Reginald. He had had enough, and he didn’t care which he did first. The ball was surrounded, so that would have to wait; but his nemesis was right in front of him and a perfect target. That’s what was offered, so that would come first. It was time to go bowling for a Reginald!

Little Poco was true to his magnificent, gritty, Mustang breeding and answered his rider’s call with the same courage and might that got him into this arena to begin with. Most of the thoroughbreds on the field were a full hand taller and a couple of hundred pounds heavier, but the hardscrabble little stallion measured things by grit, not size, and banged into Reginald’s horse for all he was worth. It was a mighty slam, and both riders went down hard.

For the last ten feet of the charge, Young Ruler sat like a third person watching all the action unfold in slow motion. It seemed surrealistic, as if happening to someone else. Just as Poco made contact, Young Ruler’s mind started to fade to black. He was cognizant of falling under the mass of horses and riders that were still locked in the battle. And, he felt a hoof hit his helmet with the force of a sledgehammer. After that, he remotely felt his body slam into the ground, but his mind kept going down, down, down into a black hole of oblivion. The chukker, and the match, was over for him.

*****

His head had a wonderful feeling, like it was full of cotton-like fluff, and this creamy, white softness was all there was. No, that wasn’t quite right. That isn’t all that there was. He could feel that he was between sheets. He sensed that he was back in his own room, and he could hear the voices of his father, the king, talking to some other people. However, he didn’t seem to have the ability to respond, but then, why should he? Nothing was broken that he could tell, so why fix it? He didn’t know that he was near death, but if he had known, he wouldn’t have cared. His wooly, warm existence was just too comfortable to complain about, or be concerned with. Ah, to lie here and feel nothing was just fine. What was this his father was saying though?

So, what does that mean? the king asked, addressing the surgeon.

We got the splinter out, and we have him heavily sedated, but it’s going to be some time before we know how much damage was done by the subdural hematoma. He took quite a blow to the head. I have to warn you that he may never be the same. The doctor was matter-of-fact but maintained an air of solemn concern.

So, there’s nothing more to be done?

I’m afraid not, Highness. All in all. I think he has a fighting chance, but we’re in a wait-and-see mode for the time being. We’ll keep him comfortable and continue monitoring him. I’m hopeful that we’ll see a change for the better when the sedation wears off. I recommend that you get some rest and let your son do the same. He seems to be out of danger, but he won’t be waking up until the sedation wears off. At least I hope he wakes up then. I have to warn you, sire, that he may not. Seeing that his words had hurt the king, he tried to make up for it. He was a good scientist and doctor, but had lousy instinct for bedside manners. We can count our blessings that things aren’t worse. He could have been paralyzed, or from what I hear, he could have even been killed in that wreck. Things could have been a lot worse. You know that, don’t you?

The king was beyond caring if the doctor was being diplomatic or not. He was just used up for the moment. I know, Doctor. I know. He sounded tired, like old men get when they are at the end of their strength.

Somehow, hearing his father’s voice sound this way made Young Ruler sad. He had just been laughing at himself, realizing that the reason he was feeling so good was that he was doped up the kazoo. However, the sound of his tired father suddenly changed that into a profound sadness. He chalked a lot of that up to being sedated; however, it didn’t lessen the impact of suddenly realizing just how mortal his father really was. Up to now, his father had always seemed invincible—nearly immortal—a confident ruler that impressed everyone with his vitality and health. But, now…?

I’ll be nearby and check in on him regularly, the doctor said, and his footsteps faded into the distance.

More footsteps came in, and he heard a new voice. It was Hank.

Hi, Your Highness. How is he?

He’s alive, but out of it for now. We’re in a wait-and-see mode. The doctor seems to think he’ll be okay. The king stopped for a moment and asked, How’s everybody else?

I’m afraid Little Poco had to be put down. The crash broke his leg, and the vet couldn’t do anything else. Everybody else is going to be fine, Hank answered.

On this news, Young Ruler’s melancholy crashed down on him. Poor Poco. He had taken his favorite horse and killed him, just to get even with some jerk he should have outfoxed. He shouldn’t have used Poco as a weapon—that was so wrong.

When Hank said, Everybody else will be fine, the king stopped, as if just realizing to whom he was talking. This man had answers to questions he needed answers to. What went on out there today anyway? Why was everybody picking on him?

Hank stammered, I don’t know what you mean, sire.

Come on, Hank. We’ve known each other for a long time. I’ve trusted my life to you on any number of occasions. You’re one of my favorite nephews and one of my most trusted guards. I need to know. What happened?

Hank shifted from foot to foot and finally came to a decision. Plain and simple, sire? he asked.

The king only paused a moment before agreeing. Plain and simple was a permission the king granted on certain occasions when he had to have the absolute unvarnished truth. He would suspend any retribution to whomever he was talking, and they would tell him the things he needed to know about the real world, even if he didn’t want to hear it. Young Ruler had heard of his father doing this before, and didn’t think much of it. He liked to have his way. Why should he care what others thought about him? He was in line to be the next king, an absolute ruler, and everybody else would just have to do as he wanted. Oh, well, I guess the king does have some weak points. But, I won’t when I get to be king. Young Ruler’s thoughts lazily rolled around in his head as he overheard more of the conversation.

Your Majesty, on second thought, this may not be the time or place for this. Can it wait? Hank asked. He was genuinely concerned.

My son can’t hear anything, and I want answers. So, what is it? I’m really tired and may not be in such a kind mood the next time we meet. You better take advantage of the situation.

The king was certainly in no mood to be trifled with, and Hank had seen his uncle deal some stern justice, so Hank cleared his throat and began, I hate to say this, sir, but Reginald and I, and even the umpires and referee, were trying to make it so tough on him that he would quit polo. Hank was quick to add, I’m sorry this happened, of course. No one could have guessed that a ball would splinter and the shard go into, preferring not to be too descriptive, he ended, where it did. What we wanted to do didn’t turn out like we thought it would.

The king got red in the face and shot back, You mean that you set out to do this on purpose?

No, no, no, sire. Nothing in the world would have made us do this. We were just trying to send him a message. Your son is dangerous out there, and we needed to get him off the team. I don’t know how many times I, and everybody else on the team, have been forced to make life-and-death decisions when he comes barging in where he shouldn’t be. And, a lot of the time, he shows up either drunk or with a hangover. I heard that he was up past midnight last night with some of his drinking buddies. Hank was truly grieved, but this was a bad situation, and it needed to be resolved, and the king had practically commanded him to talk. Uncle, we all love polo and don’t want to give it up, but we want to survive too. We can’t have things like what happened today happening again. Please make him quit.

Young Ruler was shocked. However, he couldn’t care an awful lot. He was just too mellow to react much. His biggest sensations were of sadness and alienation. He didn’t have any friends worth mentioning. He had become a burden to his father. He had just killed his horse, and he was effectively being blackballed from polo.

The king asked, It’s so bad that even the officials were in on it?

Sir, they’ve come to me any number of times complaining that they’re worried about what he’s going to do next. They didn’t want anything to happen like what happened today. I don’t think anyone in the stands can really understand just how scary it is when somebody like your son is on a thousand-pound horse, swinging a mallet, and coming right at you. Hank paused to let the information sink in, then continued, I’ve tried to talk to him, but he won’t listen. And, he is the prince after all, and we’re obliged to him as our future king. Do you understand what I mean, sire?

The king was both angry and sad, but mostly sad. I know what you mean, son, he said, speaking to Hank in a familiar fashion. The son part was to let Hank know that the king didn’t blame Hank for the accident, or the circumstance. I know.

Sire, Hank paused, as if wondering just how far he could push it. Sire, it’s even worse than that.

Than what, Hank?

Worse than just his teammates and the officials.

How’s that?

Sire, the whole country is scared to death that your son, my cousin here, is going to be king someday. If that happens, and he rules things with the attitude he has now, I’m afraid of what is going to happen to all of us. We, not just us who are in the royal family, but our whole nation, will be in serious trouble.

If it were possible, the king sounded even more tired than he did before. He answered, I know, Hank. I know. He sat down in a nearby chair. I have something to tell you. But, don’t let this out for any reason. I’m swearing you to secrecy. Do you so swear?

Of course, Your Highness. Are you sure you want to do this?

You’re a good man, and I may need your help, so, yes, I do. Now is as good a time as any.

Okay, sire. What is it?

I’ve known for a long time that my boy here doesn’t have the disposition to run a nation. In fact, I don’t know of anyone, even in the family, that would want the job. Have you ever thought of being king?

Sire, I can say honestly that, after seeing all that you go through, no, I wouldn’t want the job. It’s just too much of a fight each day. I don’t see how you do it, or even why you do it.

I do it because I love my people and do all that I can to make life better for them. It’s my obligation. I don’t know of anyone else who will look out for the country after I’m gone, so I’ve decided to do something radical. I’m going to start setting things up for our nation to become a republic. I can’t let my son rule, and no one else I trust wants the job.

Young Ruler, even through his sedated haze, was struck to the core. He had lived his whole life assuming that he would be king one day. His whole concept of existence was formed around having the unlimited power to do anything he wanted. He could almost do that now. But as king, no one could stop him. His thoughts briefly jumped to the idea that his father would have to live long enough to make these changes. He could find a way to get rid of his father if he planned it well enough. But, that was crazy talk. He loved his father. He loved all his other diversions too, but he loved his father as well. Then the sadness, an honest sadness came upon him. Young Ruler, having heard this through all the soft fluff he had for brains was more profoundly sad than he could ever remember.

It had finally come upon him to understand the situation from another perspective. These people, those he was around every day, were living, thinking people who had concerns for their lives and their futures. They couldn’t be expected to not react to being abused. Had he been all that abusive…abusive enough to cause them to hate him? He had to answer himself that he had. He wanted everyone else to play by the rules, but not him. There