There was once a King, and he ruled well and fairly over his virgin land, and his people were happy and content to be his subjects. He had many to serve him in his palace, from his generals and their footmen, to his courtiers and maids. But one man, above all, was prized in his court, and that one man was the King's Jester.

The Jester was often seen at the side of the King, and he too was happy and content, like all the King's other loyal subjects. The King, too, was pleased that he had in his entourage his Jester, who told great epics that could move men, and dazzled all in court with his tricks and charm. But most of all, the King loved him for his song, that made all that heard it smile and laugh, for it was light like the breath of Spring, warm on wintered land.


Under the contentment, however, the Jester always felt that he wanted to do more than sing for soldiers and provoke fools with his song and belled hat. He longed to one day jest no more, but instead learn under the great masters of the stage, how to sing, and act, and dance. He longed to exchange his belled cap for the wigs of the stage, his fool's staff for a wooden lord's sceptre, and his patchwork cape for one of deep sackcloth ermine. He yearned to be able to be King, Villain and Hero, all in a day; he yearned to be able to always hear glorious music; he yearned, above all else, to one day sing at the great hall at the heart of the City, where all the people could hear his voice and not laugh, but exclaim in wonderment at its magnificence; and finally see that the Greatest Singer of All lived in their land.

This silent wish of the Jester's heart he did not tell many, save for the yellow Roses that grew in his chambers. The yellow Roses had neither hearts of men, and thus cared not for great epics of courage and bravery, nor eyes to see the sleight and charm of the Jester's tricks. All they could do, and that they did best, was to listen enraptured to the Jester's song, and hear him speak of his dreams of being the Greatest Singer of All.

"I do not want to wear my belled cap, nor bear my staff, nor don my cape anymore," he said. "I shall be an Angel, and be soar with trumpets proclaiming, and wear upon my back cloth wings. I shall be the Devil's favourite emissary, and roar like the deepest volcanos, and upon my head carry paper horns. I shall be a Great Hero, a Lover, a Villain, and I shall be no one's fool." The yellow Roses knew not of such human affairs, but heartened then they heard he could sing songs that could evoke such images. Their stalks bent towards the Jester, and they blossomed as far as their delicate petals would allow, as he continued speaking.

"Everybody shall say, "O! How beautiful this fine angel sings' when I play an Angel, and everybody shall cover their ears in fear when I roar like the Devil does. I shall be Jester no longer, instead all shall see that I am the Greatest Singer of All." The night quietened as he fell silent, and as a breath of wind stirred, so did he. He sang.


But his song was hardly finished when he heard soft padding steps, and turned to see two creatures that he held dear stand before him. His Puppy and Kitten looked up at him, and both held in their eyes a look of tender worry. The Kitten had its brow furrowed, as if it had just realised that in a great palace such as this, there would be no mice for it to catch, no food except that which the Palace Cook allowed it. The Puppy had its eyes on the ground, and merely pawed at a pebble sadly.

"You sing beautifully, my boy. But why do you dream such dreams?" the Kitten said, and deep inside it felt it loved the boy more than anything else. "A Jester sings well, and that is enough. Why do you want to be the Greatest Singer of All?"

The Puppy came to the Jester, and licked his hand, that had fallen limp and sad. "You sing beautifully, my boy. So sing for the King, for us, and for the yellow Roses, and that is enough. If you go far away to learn to be a great singer, who will care for us? The yellow Roses need only sunshine and rain, but we need someone to feed us, and play with us. Once you are gone the Cook shall not give us food, and soon the Butler shall chase us onto the streets. What shall we do then?"

"And when you have seen the stage and been on it once," the kitten continued, "you shall never leave it. We will wander the streets calling for you, but you, lost in the blasting trumpets and cracking mandolins, will never hear us. This court is good enough a stage, is it not? Stay here and be content."

The Jester wanted to say all the words that he had said to the yellow Roses, but did not. He knew that the Puppy and the Kitten loved him dearly, and so did he love them. Thus he kept his dream to himself, and only spoke of it to the yellow Roses when he saw the Kitten and the Puppy asleep, and even then, as quietly as he could.


Such were his days, until one day the King summoned him to his court, but bade him not sing, nor charm, nor tell his great tales, but for once listen, as the King had grave news. The kingdom that had enjoyed peace for many years now faced a new threat from the Southern Land. The King from the Southern Land had grown tired of his small palace, and the people, tired of their small country. Thus they sought to conquer their neighbour that lay to the North.

The King had to leave his palace to lead his army into war, and thus also called for all able men to join in the fight to preserve their fatherland. He looked upon all his courtiers, and commanded them to leave their ladies and become soldiers; he looked upon his butler, and commanded him leave his pantry and become a captain. He looked upon the Jester, and though he was loath to command him to take up arms and fight in the war, he did so.

"My subject, my loyal Jester. You have brightened my court for many long days, and yet, I now fear that we will come to a time that can never be brightened. It is war between us and the Southern Land, and you shall jest no more." The Jester's face, often powdered for it made many laugh, looked as if it was powdered with ash.

"You shall give up your belled cap, and bear a helmet instead. You shall break your fool's staff, and in it's place carry a bayonet. Your cape shall instead be a wooden shield, and you will ride with me into battle."

"But my lord," the Jester said, "I know nothing of war and bayonets! I can only sing and charm and tell stories. In the heat of battle I shall be of little help to you, and the soldiers shall laugh at me for I cannot fight but only sing, that I cannot kill, but only charm. Let me stay here, with my yellow Roses, and my Puppy and my Kitten. And I cannot fight and I will be caught."

"No, you will not stay. Perhaps you shall leave the palace and be my Minister? You will live among my people and be their leader. You will prepare them for war, and teach them to always remember their allegiance lies with their King." The King pondered for a moment on this new idea he had, but continued again.

"Or perhaps you can be my Ambassador? You shall go to the Shah in the North, and the Emperor in the West, and you shall tell them to bring their men and soldiers to our aid. Your voice will persuade them to do just that, and we will surely win the war."

The Jester fell silent. He knew nothing of great men's affairs, nor affairs of the state. He only wanted to be the Greatest Singer of All, and so he said, "my Lord, I cannot help you there. Let me go with you to war then, but I will not fight. Perhaps when the nights are darkest and the men are tired my songs will cheer them again."

"So be it then. We will leave tomorrow," the King answered.


The Jester returned to his chambers, and told the Puppy, the Kitten and his yellow Roses of the news. Deep inside, the Jester felt saddened, as he knew that if he went with the King to the war, he would never be able to learn to be the Greatest Singer of All. His songs would turn to warcries, and the smile he ever painted on his face would soon turn to a scowl. However, he did not want those he held dear to worry, nor be sad, and so told the news as if it were of no consequence, as if it made no difference.

Still, the Roses grew limp and pale, and their stalks drooped, till their blossoms faced the soil below them. "Will you be back one day to sing for us? If not, our blossoms will never be yellow like the sun shines again. Instead, our petals will become touched and brown, and before long we will wither away."

The Jester could not speak, but merely smiled at them. He wished he could tell them that he would be back and his song would again find its captive audience, but he could not be sure. He turned to the Puppy and the Kitten.

"This is good news, my boy. You will tell all the maids that you will be travelling with the King, right by his side, perhaps even closer than his trusted Captains. They will fear your word and anger, for you are so close to the King, and you can tell them to take good care of us, and feed and play with us, and they will."

The Jester did all that, for he loved the Puppy and the Kitten, and wished them no misfortune. So at dawn the next day, he took his staff and donned his cape, and left. The Puppy and the Kitten followed him out of the palace, and stood by the road till the King and his entire entourage could be seen no more. The Roses craned as far as their stalks allowed, and even when the sun shined hot and dried their petals, still tried to catch the distant sound of hooves upon the hard road, for one of those horses bore the Jester.