His Majesty, Misunderstood

The guillotine plunged, its polished blade flashing in the summer sun as it sliced toward the king’s neck. The crowd roared as his head rolled to the edge of the platform, tongue protruding like a pink naked mole rat.

King Baldric blinked. The humid air evaporated. The breeze suddenly still. The rope ceremoniously tied around his wrists had vanished, along with the heavy plank that forced him to his knees, thus concluding his gracious display of humility for the crowd.

Rising to his feet, the king laughed at his weightlessness. “Well, isn’t this something.”

His perfectly manicured hands were now translucent, a tint of blue radiating from them. Waving them around, he giggled as five pale versions smeared behind the real one, each a fraction slower than its predecessor. A large horsefly, undoubtedly attracted by the fresh corpse, buzzed around his head. He swatted wildly, but his hands had no effect on the fly whatsoever.

“Eduard! Eduard! Get this damned fly away from me!”

The fly circled lazily, then darted straight for his forehead. With all his might, King Baldric swung his hand. The fly passed through him as if he were nothing more than a cloud. His hand, or hands, did not. Five consecutive slaps stung the king’s forehead. He shrieked and cried for his royal advisor once more.

The king rubbed his face. “Of course, Eduard can’t hear me. I knew that. Oh, poor Eduard, how he must miss me. My most trusted ally. He’ll be devastated.”

He straightened his robe, adjusted his crown, and scanned the plaza. There must be a gateway to heaven. Surely that’s what this is. Now where do they keep it?

Turning, he barreled into something solid. Rather, someone solid.

The king squealed and dropped to his knees, eyes squeezed shut.

After a moment, he cracked an eye open.

“Oh, Eduard!” He leapt to his feet and held out his hand, his gold ring eagerly awaiting a kiss.

Eduard’s face twisted with disgust. “What the hell are you doing here?”

King Baldric flinched. “I should ask the same of you. I am a lord, a divine being meant to bask in his subjects’ admiration one last time before ascending to heaven. And you…”

Eduard raised an eyebrow.

“You are not.”

“Is that what you think this is?”

“Of course. Why else would I be cast in this purgatory state? Oh, Eduard.” The king laughed. “You wouldn’t understand. But I shouldn’t expect you to.”

Eduard reared back and slapped him open-fisted across the cheek.

The king gasped. “How dare you. I shall have you executed for your insolence!”

“We’re already dead, you brainless turnip! Look around you.”

Glaring at Eduard with the look that struck fear into so many, he turned his gaze to the crowd. Ah, the people. His people. Forgetting Eduard’s insubordination, he stretched out his arms. “Look at them, Eduard. All my admirers out to see me off. There must be hundreds. No! Millions!”

“How many times did your mother drop you as a child?”

“You will keep my mother’s name out of your vile mouth, you peasant!”

“I didn’t say her name.”

“You know what I mean.” The king turned his attention back to the crowd. “How they admired me. How they mourn now. Yes, the children will weep. The women will make love to their husbands shouting my name. Men will honor me with blood sacrifices.”

“Do you really not see what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” The king smiled and waved a dead hand at the cheering crowd.

“They executed you. Look, your head is right there,” Eduard pointed. “They hated you. Everyone did! This is a celebration.”

“Yes! A celebration of me and all the good I’ve done for them. Don’t be silly, Eduard.”

The hooded executioner strode over to the lifeless body of the king, leaned over and barked with laughter. “He shat himself!”

The crowd howled and hurled every insult, new and old, at the corpse.

The king, seemingly deaf to the name calling, nodded in satisfaction. “One last royal gift.”

Eduard cursed and ran a hand down his face. “This is my hell. That’s what this is. I’m being punished for helping you carry out all of your dastardly deeds. I am to roam this world neither alive nor dead for all eternity. My only companion the person I hate the most.”

“Now, now Eduard. Don’t be so dramatic. This is a gift! You were chosen to see me off to heaven. How lucky!”

Eduard’s face boiled with rage. “What in the seven hells are you talking about?”

“Come,” the king slapped him on the shoulder. “Follow me.” He skipped off the podium and strode with regal confidence toward his castle.

Along the gray stone walls, banners fluttered in the wind, trumpets blared in song, and citizens danced in the street, their bare feet clapping against the ruined cobblestone.

“Where are we going?” Eduard asked, reluctantly following.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I am to make my rounds, see all the good I have done for my people one last time so I may be satisfied before I depart for good.”

“I’m not sure that’s obvious.”

“Not for someone as small-minded as yourself. But I am kingly, remember? I have the divine power, blessed with knowledge far beyond your understanding.”

“The only thing I don’t understand is how I got stuck with the man who’s tormented me for years.”

The king stopped in front of the castle gate. “Tormented? We were best friends!”

“Best friends! You berated me every opportunity you could. You used me as a footstool during council meetings.”

“You were conveniently positioned. Plus, your frame is the exact height for my legs. How could you not be honored?”

“You made me sleep in the horse’s stable! The stench was enough to send a man to an early grave.”

“It made you appreciate the fine perfumes I’ve collected, did it not?”

“You paid me in King Koins!”

“King Koins are our most valuable currency.”

“It was a scam! They were made out of cow dung!”

“Yes, backed by our flourishing agriculture. One of my more brilliant ideas if I do say so myself.”

Eduard screamed in frustration and charged the king. The two swatted at one another, flailing their arms like horny roosters until the king called for a time out.

“Eduard, please. I know you’re upset that you died, but let us revisit all the good that I accomplished.”

“They killed me because of you.”

The king stepped forward and rested a hand on Eduard’s shoulder. “To be with me. They knew you wouldn’t last a day without me, your despair would be too much.”

The king stared into his eyes with such conviction that Eduard could do nothing but shake his head. “You really believe that, don’t you.”

“I know so,” the king pinched him on the cheek, turned, and passed through the metal gate.

They floated over the courtyard and through the normally guarded wooden doors into the keep. Inside, they stood in the great hall where the king once held his lavish parties. A large wooden table sat in the center surrounded by chairs, with the king’s obnoxiously large throne at the head. Shields of the army hung proudly on the walls displaying the king’s sigil—a bare head with the ring of a sun rising around it.

King Baldric stood next to his chair, hands on hips, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Oh, Eduard. I shall miss this place dearly. Remember the feasts we used to throw? The food? The wine? The women? They were legendary. No other man hosted such gatherings as I.”

“You mean the feasts you held as your subjects were left to deal with famine.”

The king clutched his heart. “You dare not blame me for those lazy crops. It’s not my fault our soil is so fertile that the grain would rather stay nestled in its warm embrace than sprout just to be eaten by peasants.”

“Thousands starved while you threw away crates of food.”

“I was showing them what is possible when you have a strong work ethic. They merely lacked ingenuity.”

“You’re insane. Instead of just feeding them, you commissioned statues of yourself handing out bread.”

“I’m a visionary,” the king winked and his eyes widened as they flicked to the corner of the room, a wide grin spreading on his face. “Harry…”

Eduard groaned. “You can’t be serious. Not that thing.”

The king rushed over and threw his arms around the monstrosity, sulking after his arms passed through it. Harry was a large, human-shaped statue made completely of beard hair.

“Of all my genius, I think I’m going to miss Harry the most. Beautiful, isn’t he?”

Eduard stifled a gag. “He’s disgusting.”

“The symbol of unity between all our peoples is disgusting to you then?”

“Unity? You created a beard tax to fund the War of the Shining Crown.”

“How else was I supposed to pay for it?”

“You made me collect money from any bearded man, and when they couldn’t pay, I had to shave them clean in order to make this…this…abomination. You wouldn’t accept King Koins either.”

“Those are treasures. I couldn’t possibly take away their most prized possession. What kind of ruler do you take me for?”

“The kind that imposes a beard tax and then sends those same men into a pointless war.”

The king’s face soured. “Pointless? King Archibald called me bald. I couldn’t let such blasphemy stand.”

“You are bald!”

The king adjusted his crown, his wig wiggling with it. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You sent men to their deaths, claiming that a lost cow was a weapon of mass destruction sent by Archibald. It was the greatest defeat our kingdom has ever seen.”

“Let me explain, since you have no understanding of wartime strategy. An army is only as strong as its weakest man. The men who perished were not fit to defend our banners. When they fell our armies only became stronger.”

“Do you even listen to yourself?”

“I have the ability to hear things no other man can, the footsteps of a centipede, the crash of a feather on stone, the whispers of trees. So, obviously.”

Eduard clenched his jaw. “I should have killed you long ago.”

The king tilted his head to the sky and bellowed in laughter, his belly heaving as he doubled over. This went on for minutes, Eduard teetering on the edge of insanity.

When he was finally through, the king righted himself, sniffed, and wiped a tear from his eye. “I never gave you credit for your imaginative wit, Eduard. You know you could never kill me. What a fantastic remark. I should have named you jester after the last one…well you know.”

“After you beheaded him.”

“He wasn’t funny.”

Eduard bit his cheek, not wanting to agree, but this was the one thing the king was right about.“No. He wasn’t.”

The king clapped his hands together. “Ah. Well, that’s enough reminiscing, don’t you think? Now, where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The entry to heaven?”

“You think I know where it is?”

“Why else would you be here?”

“I assumed I was in hell.”

“No, that’s impossible. I’m here, remember. Now, where to, Eduard?”

Eduard stared at him, mouth open.

“Were you not paying attention?”

“To what?”

“I assume they gave you instructions?”

“Who?”

“Where. Is. The. Stairway. To. Heaven?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

The two shouted at one another until the king groaned in frustration. “Of all the people they could have held behind, I’m left with the simpleton. Let’s go to my chambers. Perhaps the Queen has a part to play in this.”

“You mean your sixth wife? The third Queen Catherine?”

“I suppose you’re going to chastise me for that now too? I don’t need to explain anything to you, for I am a king, but, I will, because I am a righteous ruler.”

Eduard rolled his eyes.

“Being the king, I am cut from the same cloth as our lord. He lives through me. Being married to the king makes a person nearly as sanctified as the king himself. What selfish man would I be if I only let one woman experience the divinity of matrimony to a king such as myself.”

Eduard squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Please, God. Have mercy. Get me out of here.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Taking the steps two at a time, the king soundlessly climbed the spiral staircase and floated to the royal chambers. At the door, the king paused and pressed an ear against it. He frowned. From the other side of the wall, Eduard could hear a woman screaming. Not in pain or mourning, but in something else entirely.

“Oh, yes! Yes! The king is dead! The king is dead! Yes. Right there. Oh! Oh god!”

“Poor Catherine. She’s beside herself, crying out for my return.” He pressed a fist to his mouth, stifling a cry. “I cannot bear to see her in such a state. Come, Eduard. This isn’t the place.”

The king moved away from the door and Eduard stuck his head through the door. On the bed, the Queen laid on her back, gasping and writhing. Comforting her with his pants around his ankles was one of the servant boys. Handsome lad. Good for him.

Eduard snorted and pulled his head back out.

The king stood in the hallway, chin resting on his fist in contemplation. “Where would it be?”

“The monastery would be a good start.”

The king’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Of course. Lead the way, Eduard!”

Eager to be rid of the former king, Eduard navigated through the castle, crossed the courtyard and entered the monastery. Inside, the air was cold, sending a shiver through the two ghosts. A monotone chanting echoed against the walls, its source unseen. Candlelight flickered on the walls, their shadows dancing in celebration. The pews leading to the altar were empty, all but the front row, where a lone, cloaked figure sat unmoving with its back facing them.

King Baldric leaned close. “I don’t like this.”

“We’re already dead. What else could happen?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly I feel empty, devoid of any happiness. Let’s get out of here.” The king turned and slammed his nose into the closed door. He staggered back, his eyes blinking in fear. He pulled at the iron handle as hard as he could. It didn’t budge. They were trapped.

“I guess this is it,” Eduard said, almost in relief.

The candlelight leaned in unison toward the front of the church and the robed figure stood. The chanting silenced.

The king pursed his lips and let out a long, rumbling fart. His face reddened. “Tis too quiet.”

“Come on,” Eduard waved and moved between the pews toward the front of the church.

The king scurried to catch up. “Whatever happens. Don’t leave me.”

The figure glided toward the center, and they stopped behind it. In front of them on the alter sat a large golden table adorned with a white cloth. In the corners, there were two rooms, each with a doorway but no door. Eduard peered into the openings. The room on the left had a set of stairs going up. The room on the left was identical, but with stairs leading down.

The two dead men eyed one another, unsure of their next move.

With his usual lack of self-control, King Baldric took matters into his own hands and cleared his throat. “I am King Baldric the first, lord of these lands. Announce yourself.”

The figure didn’t appear to notice, so the king grabbed the figure’s hood and pulled it down, revealing nothing but a pearly white skull.

“Now that’s bald,” the king remarked.

“I think we’re supposed to go into a room,” Eduard whispered.

“GRAHHHHHH.” A guttural moan escaped the figure, echoing into the high ceiling.

“I supposed that means yes?” The king frowned. “Sorry we don’t speak…whatever that is. Was that a belch? Or a yes?”

“GRAHHHHH.”

“Okay then. Let’s go left.” The king stepped forward but the figure held out an arm.

“No,” Eduard smiled. “No. The left is for me. Yours is the room on the right.”

“How can you be sure?”

Eduard straightened his back and looked the king in the eye. The man he hated for so many years. The man whose death he prayed for every night. The man who ruled with such cruelty without ever knowing it. Somehow, Eduard knew it was time. The time for the king to repent for all his sins. Justice was down those stairs. “You said it yourself, I was left here to guide you to the afterlife. Here it is. The way for kings is to the right. A man such as myself is not worthy. For my door is on the left.”

The king looked left, then right, and nodded. He straightened out his wig and crown. “You have been a loyal servant, Eduard. I will miss you.”

“I don’t think you’ll miss me where you are going.”

The king laughed. “Ever the optimist. Shall we?”

The two moved forward and split at the foot of the table, the king going right, Eduard left. They each paused in their respective doorways and turned to face one another one last time.

“Goodbye, Eduard. Do not mourn for me.” The king spun on his heels and stepped down. From the stairwell, the king screamed. “Wait. What is this? Wait—no!”

“You don’t have to worry about that, my lord.” Eduard nodded to the figure, turned, and ascended.