Deeds of Honor Read Free

cooling bath in summer.
    And yet, now and again, unbidden and beyond the evil king's control, some comfort came: the scent of wild plum in spring, of roses in summer, the sound of birds singing: all those came over the walls behind which he lived. The other servants gradually came to admire him, where first they had mocked, and now and then one slipped him an extra nubbin of cheese, or spoke a kind word to him. He cherished these as gifts of the gods, as proof that he was right to have sworn that oath, and right to keep it, and he did what he could to ease the anguish of others from the nothing that he himself had.
    At last the years of his servitude were up, though he had lost track of the time himself, and it was only by the king's accountant mentioning the matter that the king was reminded. He had long grown tired of the game anyway—though he would not have loosed Falk sooner for that—for Falk as a scarred, crooked man looking older than his years was no sport now. So on the morning of that fourteenth year's completion, Falk was bidden to the king's hall for the first time since he had left it fourteen years before.
    "My accountant tells me your debt is paid," the king said, peeling a peach. "Do you have anything to say?" He still hoped Falk would make some complaint, and give excuse for a final whipping.
    "I kept my oath," Falk said, after a moment of silence.
    "You were a fool to make such an oath," the king said. And to his men, "Strip him and send him away naked as he was born, for fools have no right to mercy." So his men stripped Falk of the loincloth he wore, and pushed him out of the hall, the courtyard and beyond the palace walls, jeering all the way.
    But outside the walls, when Falk had stumbled a few paces into the little shanty village that lay there, the people came out and spoke kindly to him, for they knew his story. This one brought him water, and that one a hunk of bread, and another brought a patched shirt, and another a pair of ragged pants, too wide and too short, with a length of twisted straw for a belt. From the village well, someone drew a bucket of water for him to bathe before he put the clothes on. He could scarcely speak, but they patted his shoulders and sent him on his way with soft words of encouragement.
    When he arrived back at his own land, after a difficult journey during which he had worked for food on farms and in towns, he was but little stronger, and he was almost turned back at the border. "How do we know you are that prince? Where is your ring? You look nothing like the men you claim as brothers!" the guards said. But at last he was allowed on his way, and at last he came to his father's palace and there he found his father still on the throne, but now more gray, and his brothers ranged on either side, their wives with them, and their children playing at their feet. Where there had once been seven seats for the princes, now there were but six.
    "Who is this beggar come to the king's hall?" asked the king his father of the steward.
    Before the steward could speak, Falk replied, "It is I: Falk, your son who was held captive."
    "Is it fourteen years already?" the king said, glancing at his other sons. "If I had thought, we might have had a feast prepared-" He looked more sharply at Falk. "You have changed," he said.
    "I kept my oath," Falk said.
    His third brother rose from his seat and said, "Falk, I am sorry—I should have kept better count—but come, here is a seat for you!"
    But the king said, "Never mind that—he is filthy and unkempt. Let him bathe and dress properly and then we shall talk of what is to be done."
    Falk was taken to a guest chamber, not the best, and there bathed, his hair and beard trimmed, and given clothes to wear. The servants did not seem to know how to treat him, until he was dressed again in princely garments, and even then frowned more than they smiled. At dinner that evening, everyone stared at Falk, some with worry and some—including his