“Hello traveler, how fares thee? Might thee need ferried across the waters of these? Come, you look tired, exhausted with fatigue. Sit down and rest as I row us across, and tell you a tale of king with a toss”

……………………..

There once was a king sitting on his throne dreaming of the day when his daughter would betroth. “What kind of man will he be, to be worthy of my crown? Will he be broad and strong, to rest the entire kingdom upon his shoulders? Or will he be intelligent and sharp, to end the conflicts before they before they bear fruit? Or perhaps he will be both.”

Many a day and many a night the man would rest and indulge in his own perfect dreams, not knowing the calamity that would be soon to unfold.

Soon after a boy was born from a mother so poor, his head covered with the caul from the event of his birth. Great fortune and will, for this was rarely seen, to be borne with a caul was divinity indeed. “Fortuity and prosperity await this boy in life, so much that he may take the King’s daughter at a mere fourteen”. The people whom heard, received it with glee and took it for truth, a fortuitous groom to the heavenly bride.

“The boy to marry the angel has been born”. The word carried on from village to town, it was driven and rowed to all corners of land. Whispered under the breath and shouted at the lungs, given in both happiness and grief. Nothing could stop it from traveling so, and reaching the ears of the King on his throne.

“A boy with a caul has been borne of divine, that will one day receive the angel of thine.” These words were spoken by the servant to the King, whose mouth now grinned and contorted in glee.

“Oh joy how great an occasion this is, that in my old days an heir should appear. Quickly, we must make haste to see this child. Preparations must be made and training need be, to insure that this boy should prove worthy to me.” In disguise and in speed, the King traveled to the village, to see the boy born with the caul.

Upon reaching the house of the parents so poor, the king could not help, but feel an air so abhor. One knock heavy and another two swift, the door to the house creaks opens quite quick. “Who might thee be and what would thee need?”, a voice so quip, speaks out to the king.

“I am a traveler, come from a land far from the sea, to see the child of prophecy”

A man so burly and a women so small, step into the moonlight with a child in arm.

“If that is all then it shall be, surely thou means no harm dressed in such garbs”

Shining in the light of the crescent moon, the child breathed, so softly and angelic even the King could not believe. At the sight of the child the King was struck with disbelief, for he knew that this child would lead to his grief. Gentle and seraphic, the child was indeed, but the King felt pangs of fear in his gut.

“How much would thee want, to hand this child to me?” The King so nervous that his brow sweat so much.

The women spoke to refuse, but was stopped in her speech. For when she saw the gold, her tone shifted with such swiftness and speed.

“So that my child might be placed in a home so free, I shall grant him for the gold hath thee.” With slight hesitation, the woman placed the newborn in his arms, and scuttled back inside with her husband at once.

The child now in his arms, the King felt again, the pangs from before that spoke of ruin and death.

“Blessed be this child? How might I laugh. That such demonic presence should be held by one as small as a calf,” the King sang with disgust and contempt.

“Let us move to the river and cast this child away, so that the lord may have pity on his child of dismay.” The servant was confused, and spoke to the king. But the servant had no sway and could only follow his liege.

On the edge of the bridge, on top the roaring rapids. A basket now swung from the arms of the King. With a swing and a drop, the basket fell from the bridge, and with a splash had fallen into the river below. Content and relieved, the King began his journey home, with a servant so shocked and in fear at his back.

…………….

“Well here we are, traveler, at the edge of the shore. Not much of a story thou says? Well that much is for sure, for thee hath only heard half of the tale on this ferryman’s tour. Thou wish to hear more? Well that will have to wait, for a ferry’s job is never done and is so their fate. Let us continue when thee return, when thou must ferry to the other side in turn. Then I shall tell the last part. But I warn thee and thou should beware, for thou shall learn the story of the Devil with the Three Golden Hairs.”