The Tale of the Charlatan

Picture now a man dressed in rainbow robes who walked along the wide stone road up to the sentry point of the next kingdom. His long hair swung around his waist and was threaded with feathers and shells. Around his neck he wore amulets of carved bone and bead that clinked as he padded closer. Shiny, worthless rings encircled the toes of his bare feet and they, too, rang as he walked. He carried no bags and approached with a tacit grin on his features that seemed as malleable as clay.

The soldiers awaited him at their stations and, with one hand on their swords, they ordered that he declare himself and his purpose before he might pay the road tax and enter the realm. As his layers of clothing shimmered colour in the air, the Charlatan smiled and answered:

"I am the richest man in the land and everybody knows it - or soon will. Therefore I need no name. As for the tax, these roads belong to me and so I need pay nothing."

"This is treason." The soldiers cried in rage, drawing their swords, "And you will pay for it with your life."

"Maybe I will even pay for it with my death." The Charlatan grinned merrily, standing his ground, "But do not be too hasty in dispatching your judgements for I am a good friend of your king."

"You lie." The men at arms declared but the element of doubt stayed their desire to slice this stranger in half. Instead they bound his hands and carted him off to the city jail. The Dervish sat back and enjoyed a lazy ride in the sheltered wagon as the rain came down on the driver in front.

After three days, the list of those to be executed was presented before the king for his signature and he noted the case with interest. He ordered that the Charlatan be brought before him in chains to answer for his insolence. As a political prisoner, he was well fed and rested, entering the Palace with a happily-swollen belly and the smile of the good life upon his face. The king observed his calm and detachment with wonder.

"What kind of man can this be?" He mused out loud with the authoritative voice which he liked to boom through his lofty halls of splendour. Beneath chandeliers and ornate statuettes, his subjects nodded in appreciation, their gold chinking about them as they did so.

"Prisoner. It seems you imagine yourself to be some kind of holy man?" The king teased, "But it seems rather more likely that you are a maniac or fool - have you no regard for your life that you invite yourself to the kiss of the executioner's axe with such impudence?

And what can you possibly mean when you announce yourself as the richest man in the land? You have less signs of wealth about you than my cats." He stroked one of the pedigree felines with pearl collars that slept on each arm of his throne. Pleased with his own wit, the king continued:

"And how can you imagine yourself to be a friend of mine when we have never met until this day?"

The Charlatan bowed and answered:

"Your Majesty, if I can answer your three questions to your satisfaction, may I be allowed to leave your halls as a free man?"

The gathered subjects murmured in astonishment at the prisoner's audacity but the king thought seriously. Perhaps the information could be extracted through torture but that could take more time than he had the patience for. He agreed and the Charlatan cleared his throat.

"Though I am most wealthy and perfect in almost every way, I have yet the modesty to concede that I possess one fault: My immaculate looks are impaired by the tragic fact that I have inherited the crooked nose and short eyelashes of my father.” He gave a modest sigh and continued.

“However, I have no doubt that my karma in this life has been exemplary enough to merit me a truly beautiful face in my next rebirth. For this reason it may be that your executioner's steel would be a most blessed embrace, bringing me the last step towards attaining utter perfection in mind, spirit and body."

Laughter rippled through the court and one young earl ventured to applaud before a stern look from the king silenced him in an instant.

"Secondly," His guest went on, thoroughly enjoying the limelight, "I am clearly the richest man in the land because I never have need to carry a coin. I simply lend all my wealth to everyone else and much of my treasure may be seen in the glittering jewellery of all these lords and ladies. By permitting your subjects to wear this finery, I am unburdened of the anxiety to safeguard my wealth. And they earn this favour by undertaking to live in fortified castles and to travel everywhere with armed guards - Whilst I may walk freely without fear of thieves."

"But how can you enjoy the riches if they are never in your hands?" The king persisted, sensing the contest slipping away from him.

"Why, I enjoy my fair clothes and gold every time I see them." The Charlatan replied, "Just as it warms my heart to know that they are eating fine sweetmeats when I am dining on bread and that they are sleeping on silken sheets whilst I rest in hay - Their happiness is mine also and so I enjoy their well-being without having to suffer the boredom, claustrophobia and abuse of the liver that goes with it."

The king rocked uncertainly on his throne and fingered his crown as he tried to follow this twisting logic. He gave up and turned to his last card.

"And what of our alleged friendship? Surely you can not weasel your way out of that falsehood."

The Charlatan smiled like a poker player on the verge of claiming the collected chips.

"My Majesty, have you not given me food and shelter these last three days in your most luxurious jail?” He clinked the iron manacles about his wrists. “And are these not fine bracelets and chains that you have bestowed upon me? Are these not the favours that only a true friend could give?"

The king shook his head in amazement and ordered that the prisoner be freed.

"O Sage - For such you surely are - Will you not stay at my court and benefit me with your wisdom on the rule of my kingdom?" But the Charlatan shook his head.

"I regret, your Majesty, that despite our friendship, the answer is no. For I must walk on to the next town where an innkeeper awaits me with beer and stew."

"But how will you pay for it with no money in your pockets?" The king spluttered.

"Oh, he owes his hospitality to me - I made a bet with him that I could secure the audience of the king himself." The Dervish answered and walked free from the hall, hundreds of eyes following him as he went.