The Three Soldiers Read online

The Three Soldiers

  by Dory Lee Maske

  Copyright ? 2009 by Dory Lee Maske

  All rights reserved

  Illustration ? 2009 by Robert Maske

  All rights reserved

  Cover design by Robert Maske

  The Three Soldiers

  Once upon a time there were three soldiers who were best of friends from fighting side by side. As the war had ended and the King had no further need of their services, he gave each of them a small pension and dismissed them. They journeyed back from the foreign lands and made plans for the future.

  The first soldier, who had lost a foot, said he would seek after a life of gaiety and sport. "The first tavern I come to will be left dry as a desert. I will dance with every lady in the town on one foot and one peg; then I will move on to the next town." He smoked his pipe and laughed about the adventures he would have.

  The second soldier, who had lost a hand, said he would seek after wealth. "This small pension from the King will not suffice," he said. "Better he should have given me more, for now I will take what I need by force." He planned to take his due from those who had not risked their lives in fighting. "Now they are at risk with me," he said, "and if I can take from the King himself, all the better." He paced around the campfire and savored his plans to become rich and powerful.

  The third soldier, who had not been wounded, said he must seek after peace. "The lost souls of the war cry out constantly in my head," he said. "I can hardly sleep or eat from listening to them." He held his head as though to calm the voices. "I will seek the help of a healer or a seer to rid me of these voices, for I can not even think my own thoughts or make any plans as long as they torment me."

  The three pledged eternal friendship and promised to meet again in two years in the very same spot to assure themselves of the others' well-being and to find out how each had fared in his quest. They each pulled off two brass buttons from their uniforms and gave one to each of their comrades to remind themselves of their pledge.

  The first soldier soon came to a town and sought out a tavern without delay. There he stayed drinking wine, engaging in wagers and endearing himself to the ladies who would listen to stories of his adventures. He lived each day to the fullest and thought he had found the life of his deepest desires.

  The second soldier took up residence in a dark part of the forest. From here he recruited a band of thieves. They waylaid travelers and began to accumulate wealth and reputation until few dared to venture into the forest. The band changed their camp from time to time to find fresh prey and avoid capture. The soldier was pleased with his accumulation of wealth and even more pleased that the king was in an uproar over the forest bandits. He felt his life was sweet with revenge.

  The third soldier tried many healers and seers but none could help rid him of the voices that cried out to him to end their despair. He was in despair himself and almost wished that he had died in the wars. He walked along holding his head one day when he passed an old man who was likewise holding his head and talking out loud. On his hand the old man had a small tattoo that marked him as a soldier.

  The soldier stopped to listen to the old man who seemed to be engaged in a loud argument with an invisible person.

  "To whom do you speak?" the soldier asked. "I see no one here but you and I."

  "Ah, you can't see them but they are here, the lost souls who plague me day and night," the old man said.

  "But I hear the voices as well," said the young soldier, who was somehow happy to find another who suffered as he did.

  The two men talked together all that day. The old man was a soldier from a past war scarcely remembered now by any except himself. He had also tried to find help to no avail. He said a story-teller had told him once of a singing dove that had the power to bring peace to any person who heard its song but he did not know if the dove was a fable or a fact and he was too old now to try for it.

  "I have grown accustomed to the voices," he said. "They are my companions and I foresee that I will soon be joining them."

  The soldier could not stop thinking about the dove. He continued to question the old man, but the old man seemed past caring. Finally the soldier said, "Whether this dove be fact or fable, all other roads lead to despair. We must go and seek out this story-teller. What other choice do we have?"

  The old man agreed reluctantly, and they started off to the town where the old man had heard the story.

  The town was three days' journey through a desert. The soldier carried water and food for both-the old man seemed not to care if he lived or died. Each night the soldier made sure the old man ate and drank before he closed his eyes and listened to his own lost souls as well as the old man's continual arguing with invisible demons. When they reached the town they were both parched and exhausted. An inn-keeper took pity on the strange pair.

  Bathed and refreshed, the old man was somewhat calmed and the soldier told the inn-keeper of their quest.

  "I know the story-teller you seek, the inn-keeper said, "for I remember her telling that story one cold night. She lives near here but she often travels to nearby towns selling her wares which are her stories. I will send a runner to commission her if she is at home."

  The soldier waited impatiently but was rewarded with the runner's announcement. "Gather round all seekers, for tonight we will listen and learn."

  With this brief prelude a smiling old woman walked through an archway and sat in a chair near the fireplace. "I'm told I'm here by special request," she said as she searched the faces of those gathered around the fire.

  The soldier stood up. "Please, Madame Story-teller, will you tell the story of the Singing Dove who brings peace to all that hear its song?"

  "Why of course. That is an excellent choice," she said. "Gather round, any who would hear this sad tale." She cleared her throat and began.

  "Once upon a time there lived a beautiful princess whose life was rich with blessings. Her father's kingdom was wealthy beyond words. She was soon to wed a young prince she had known from childhood, one who had been her friend and one she now loved deeply. Her future happiness was assured in every way.

  "But then disaster struck. An army of invaders reached the kingdom and war broke out on every front. The young prince pledged himself to the king's service and took over the command of the troops. The war raged for many months and the young prince fought valiantly. The kingdom was slowly closed off by the invaders and the people within began to die of hunger and thirst.

  "Finally the king and queen died, the prince was killed and the princess was taken prisoner. She was sold as a slave. It mattered little to her by this time, for all that she had loved were gone and she often wished for death herself.

  "One day as she worked cleaning the endless plates and goblets that filled her kitchen world, she accidently knocked over an old bottle from a shelf. She knew she would be beaten for her clumsiness but it scarcely mattered to her. As she bent to pick up the pieces a small cloud began to escape from the broken shards. The cloud grew in size until it towered over her in the shape of a genie.

  "I regret my clumsiness," she said simply. "I see I have destroyed your home."

  The genie looked at her with surprise. "On the contrary," he said, "you have destroyed my prison."

  The genie instantly saw the poor girl's situation and took pity on her. "Since you have freed me from my prison, I will do the same for you," the genie said. "Tell me your heart's desire and I will grant it."

  "Alas," said the girl, "my heart is broken and has no more lust for life; would that I could be instead a singing bird at peace with myself and others."

  "Done," said the genie, and the girl found herself instantly out of
the kitchen flying over a beautiful garden atop a mountain.

  "All her pain was gone and when she opened her mouth the most beautiful of music swelled out effortlessly. Her heart was filled with joy and her eyes never tired of looking at the garden.

  "The genie stationed himself at the entrance to the garden lest any disturb the Singing Dove."

  The story-teller stopped at this point in the story and looked at the soldier.

  "Does the story meet with your expectations?" she asked

  "It is a sad, yet wonderful story, but I need to know if it is true." he answered.

  "I have learned that the truth of a story lies in the heart of the listener," the story-teller said.

  "I want it to be true," the soldier said. "I have heard that all who hear the song of the Singing Dove will find their own peace and so this old man and I have vowed to find her."

  "I see," the story-teller said. "Then I must warn you that the path to what you seek is a dangerous one."

  She looked into the fire as she continued the tale.

  "Rumors of the Singing Dove and her power to bring peace came from various diviners and seers. Many hungered after peace who had lived through the terrible wars, and many sought out the path up the mountain.

  "But