Chapter 5
I sacrifice my duty to honor this woman.
Day follows day and I follow Makeda through the same corridors, chambers, and halls. We see the same people except for occasional guests at the banquet hall named after a former king. I constantly recognize that I know so little about the history of this kingdom.
I am also learning that the royal family like Makeda have no contact and therefore no idea about the people of this kingdom. Like me, most of the royal family is from lands across the Mediterranean while the people who labor at farming, making textiles, buying, selling, and trading goods are natives of the land.
King Abati seems like a good king, but he continues to make decisions which will affect the people that he does not even know. Yet, like myself, these people are loyal to him. We devote our lives to him without really knowing him. All we really know is that he is not cruel. He does not overburden us or so it seems. So, we faithfully serve him and many of us would die for him.
Sometimes I labor over the fact that I live better than my fellow soldiers, who live better than the civilian population. Sometimes that is what troubles Makeda, too. Even though Makeda instructs not to listen to conversations between royals and lords, I still pick up things from their conversations, especially when they speak louder stoked with anger or passion.
My respect for Makeda grows. She often argues for the people of the kingdom. At least, that is how it appears to me. I am still very ignorant about royal matters. Her father often hears and adheres to her ideas, yet sometimes he does not. She gets terribly upset.
Today is one of those days where Makeda’s passionate argument is unheeded. She has become so upset that she refuses to eat and returns to her chamber. I am hungry and since this has never happened to this degree before, I am uncertain if I will get to eat. The last time I missed my meal; I was on the battlefield. I know I will be all right. Makeda has never missed a meal while I am her bodyguard. I hope she will be all right.
Several minutes pass as Makeda stomps and paces grumbling to herself in her chamber. While I rest on my pallet between the two curtains, a servant enters with some food. They start to enter her chamber, but I stop them.
“Did her majesty send for this?” I stand between the servant and Makeda’s chamber and examine the tray of meat and vegetables she carries.
“The king ordered me to prepare this and bring it to her majesty,” the servant tries to sidestep me.
As we dance between the tray and the curtain, I ask, “Has it been properly tasted?”
“I prepared this myself. I would not harm her majesty.”
“Your majesty, the king has sent along a tray of food,” I stay between the tray and the curtain.
“Send it back.”
I had not predicted that response, “I am willing to test it for you if you wish, your majesty.”
“That will not be necessary because I refuse to eat it,” She pauses a moment and then, “wait.”
“Yes, your majesty?”
“Have the servant leave the food with you so you can test it.”
I give the servant a smug glance as I accept the tray. She snorts and quickly turns on her heels and disappears in a huff leaving my chamber.
“Bring it into me, Emon,” Makeda commands when she has given the servant adequate time to leave and be out of hearing.
I carefully balance the tray trying not to spill any food in hopes that Makeda might not eat it all and offer the leftovers to me.
“Set the tray over here,” Makeda standing in the sitting area points to a small wooden table resting between two chairs.
I do as she wishes and turn slowly to leave her chamber.
“Have you tested it? It does not seem that you have had enough time.”
“No, your majesty. With your permission I will do so, now.”
I tear a small part of the meat off with my fingers and place it to my nose. It smells so wonderful, but I stay stone faced. I then carefully examine it with my eyes. It appears so plump and juicy. With no show of emotion, I carefully place the morsel in my mouth.
When the morsel touches my tongue, my mouth waters, and my brain suddenly tells my stomach to respond. My military-like facial expression and body language contradicts my carnal desire.
“You think you’ve been clever,” Makeda smiles and chuckles.
I respond with, “I deem the offering safe to eat,”
Makeda’s shoulders shake causing a violent tremor of her whole body before she explodes with a thunderous guffaw. I am embarrassed. Her whole body takes a moment before it stops trembling with laughter.
Makeda does not appear to be embarrassed. This causes me some concern for her mental acuity. This is a side of Makeda I have not previously seen. I suddenly experience an inappropriate feeling of kinship that I at once dismiss.
I gather myself and stand at attention awaiting her majesty’s permission to leave. I am not normally anxious to leave her presence, but I feel a strong urgency this time.
“Please enjoy some more of the food, Emon. I selfishly did not consider your needs when I planned to protest.”
An apology from a royal to a servant. I have seen comrades mentally and emotionally breakdown during and following a heated battle. Does Makeda experience a mental breakdown? I do hope Makeda can gather her wits.
“Your safety and well being is my first and foremost concern, your majesty.”
“Nonetheless, you’re of no good to me weakened by hunger.”
“If I may speak boldly, your majesty.”
“Of course, Emon.”
“I assure you it takes more than missing one meal to weaken me.”
“I did not mean to puncture your pride, Emon. But your stomach shows something else.”
“May I….”
“Speak, Emon.”
“I know hunger, real hunger, your majesty. As a boy, as a soldier and this is not serious hunger. It would take several days of missed meals to weaken your humble servant.”
“Eat anyway, Emon. I am sure what you say is true.”
“May I speak, boldly.”
“Please do.”
“I do not feel comfortable partaking before you have, your majesty.”
“Emon, I am still upset at my father for what he plans to do, especially as it is a weak response to the attack which injured you and apparently was meant to do me harm.”
“Understood your majesty.”
Although, I did not understand before now that it had anything to do with the attack. I now wonder how King Abati plans to respond.
“Then, will you eat?”
“If you are allowing me to choose to eat or not to eat, I will choose not to eat.”
“I am not giving you a choice. In fact, I order you to sit here and eat.”
“I regretfully decline to follow that order, your majesty.”
“Emon!”
“Your command goes against my king’s and my commander’s orders and compromises my duty to put you and your safety before my needs.”
Makeda’s forehead furrows with as deep of lines as I saw earlier when arguing with her father. She starts to speak but something stops her. Makeda slowly sits down next to the table with the tray of food. She looks up at me and her countenance falls. I regret my last decision but only for a moment. I snap to attention. Not in defiance, not in victory, but I do so to avoid looking into those eyes which darken with defeat as she reaches onto the tray, tears off a chunk of meat, and places it into her mouth.
“If King Abati is correct, his plan will keep our kingdom safe and align us with one of the most powerful kingdoms. I was being selfish. My plan would mean war which could mean that you might die.”
“I will gladly fight to the death for your majesty and our kingdom.”
“I do not want you to have to take sides, Emon, especially opposing your king. I wish I had your sense of duty for this kingdom. King Abati says that I should as a princess.”
I kneel beside her. I know I risk uncertain punishment, but I touch her arm to keep her from taking another bite. She looks at me, shocked at first and on the verge of anger. Her face, then softens.
I look her in the eye and carefully pull the morsel from her hand. She surrenders the food. I begin to rise and remove the tray from her chamber.
Makeda reaches out and clutches my hand causing me to drop to my knees, again. Her hand, so cool, so human rests in mine.
“Emon,” she says my name tenderly, “stay here with me for a moment, please.”
“As you wish, your majesty.”
“Call me Makeda. Right now, I want to be Makeda, not a majesty, but a woman.”
I sacrifice my duty to honor this woman, “Yes, Makeda.”
Categories: Art Arts & Entertainment Inspiration
Douglas Knight
Struggling to surrender “my right to myself” and identify completely with Christ.
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