Third of three parts.
Re: “Uselessness of Killing – A Political Fairy Tale”
In this political fairy tale, the Kind King renewed his walk toward his palace.
Soon, however, he came upon Trolls whose distorted faces appalled him. But their graceful gait and strong bodies filled him with wonder.
Again, though, he was filled with horror, seeing six of the children held in their grip. The Kind King explained the Evil of their way, but the Trolls replied that their children were hungry, and needed, in kindness, to be fed.
So the Kind King, his hand holding to the beautiful branch that had grown more fully from his shoulder, turned his face as the children were dismembered.
And the Kind King knew that he had done right. He had not increased Evil, for as his reward the trunk that had become his chest and waist reached down toward the ground. His right leg became a sturdy root, dragging along the ground, but through which he could already feel nourishment flowing into his body.
Around him flew the many colored birds, although still fewer than before, singing quiet, inspiring tunes.
The Kind King once more renewed his walk toward his palace.
In a day or so, he came upon a great gathering of Goblins, whose ugly bodies formed the most enchanting patterns when grouped together in their hordes.
Again, though, he was filled with horror, as their master held the last eight of the missing children in his grip.
The Kind King sought to reason with the master, but the reply was only a heartless laugh.
The Kind King asked himself what possible good could come of raising his magical sword, and causing so much pain and death to save so small a group of children.
The children really ought not to have wandered off in the first place.
So he turned his eyes, did not move his hand, and renewed his walk toward the palace, leaving the children to be devoured. And the Kind King again knew he had done right, and not increased Evil, as his left leg was transfigured into a second root, as powerful and nourishing as the first. A few birds remained, singing numinous songs.
At last the Kind King reached the edge of the forest. He could see his palace and his city in the distance, where workers were busy constructing an encircling wall.
But, just at the forest’s edge, he saw howling Goblins, masses of screaming Trolls and Wargs, even Giant Spiders, readying to besiege his city and his home.
Anguish filled him at the site of such Evil, horror at their fearful intent.
He moved to reach for his magical sword. But his left arm, like his right, had become a powerful branch, sprouting leaves far above his head. He turned to join his compatriots at his city and his palace, but the roots that had been his legs had dug deeply into the ground, holding him fast.
He sought to shout a warning, but his head, too, was now part of the most beautiful of trees.
Behind him was the forest, now dark and threatening. Around him were the hordes, emboldened by all his kindnesses. Before him, he could see his citizens, struggling to prepare their defenses. There were no longer any birds.
The Kind King had become a mighty, rooted tree, towering above it all.
Mr. Smith, an attorney, may be contacted at gsmith@irell.com
