All the King’s horses rode out on that day, to look for the Crown he had lost on his way – to mid-Eastern castles and caves in Nepal; searching for riches, he found none at all. Beggars and orphans had dotted his path, while thieves and hard merchants felt only his wrath! The Knights’ only task was singular and bold: to search far and wide in the heat and the cold.
The King was distraught and held his head in his hands – a singular cry could be heard in the land: ‘The Crown, the crown! Without it I’m lost!’ but the lesson soon learned came at a much higher cost: the King’s only son, who had perished that day, on the journey and quest in a search in dismay; left the King only knowing how little it meant, this quest and this journey in his heart was now spent.
One day in his garden so strikingly green, the King sat suspended – blind to the scene. His warmth came from tears and then something appeared: a spirit, his son came upon him so near. The Prince he did whisper to his father and then, a smile spread like sunshine on the King’s fallen chin. The purpose was clear now, his son did embrace: ‘Your Highness, my father, our King, your Grace.’
To his court ran the King and his step was so light, his heart had skipped beats out of joy that was right.
Then taking what riches in his keep did remain, the King gave so much to the orphans and lame. The Kingdom grew in number, prosperity and more; while his vision and kindness became legend and lore.
With peace now upon him and the quest gone before, the horses would rest now – their ride was no more.
