ALDIC's  JEST

Aldic the Bear returned from battle with the Agars and made Baron over the lands of Saxe-Odra by Charles the Lame.  It was the year of our Lord eight hundred and four,  and the new Baron thought to learn something of the people in villages unknown to him.  So he set out with his miller's cart full of flour and bread, but not in disguise for he was truly a miller by trade.

On the way north he joined a band of travelers returning from a pilgrimage to the great monolith at Druidenstein.  He listed to their stories and studied their ways.  There was a young lad amongst the animal care who was a butt of many jokes and pranks.  One favorite jest was to offer him the choice between two coins; one a copper cent, the other of greater silver value.  The copper was as large as a hen's egg, while the silver was scant that of a wild cherry.  When these coins were displayed, the child quickly grabbed the larger, shiny copper and ran away to hide.  Large was the laughter and jibes at his expense.  It was not without kindness, though, and Aldic held them no ill will.  Yet, as he observed the lad in his tasked he determined the youth was not simple, He was driven to ask, "do you not know that the silver coin is of greater worth than the copper?"  

"Of, course," laughed the boy.  "But if I picked the silver they would no longer offer me the choice!"

At sunset in the village reached, he sought space in a barn for the night, and found it clean and the animals in good health.  He traded bread for a turnip, sausage and ale and was well pleased.  Near dark, he ventured out to see what manner of men roamed the streets.  On a lonely street with only one lantern lit, he discovered a merchant crawling about upon the ground.  "What have you lost, my friend, perhaps I can aid this search."

"My key - the key to my shop has fallen to the stones," was the reply.  So, the Baron proceeded also to grope about in the shadows, but to no avail. 

"Where were you when you dropped the key," asked the frustrated miller? 

"Over there by the archway,"  replied the merchant, pointing to a spot across and down the road.

"Then why are we crawling around over here," whispered the Baron in dismay?

Said the merchant in all sincerity, "here is where the light is!"

With the morning came many pleasant moments with villagers happy about their work and unhurried tasks.  So the Baron was surprised to find a man weeping beneath a tree by the central well.

"What bodes ill with thee, old man," asked the miller in sympathy.

                "All is well and good, my friend.  I recently acquired a large farm from a cousin I never knew.  At six and fifty I am sound of limb and have fine grandchildren to gladden my lap.  I recently wed a most beauteous young maiden who adores me beyond reason and warms my nights with joy."

                "Well then, why are you weeping here?"

                "Alas, I cannot remember where I live!"

                The Baron asked about and helped the old man home.  Then ambled to the market place and the village square.  A smithy and armorer  was working by a fiery pit and great anvil.  "Tink, tinkity, tink, wham."  The Bear loved the smithy song.   He watched the man for a bit and marveled at his arms that rippled with roped muscles like the trunk of a giant wisteria stalk.  The lad who assisted looked to be about twenty years and had some common features.  "It is good to have a brother to help,"  observed the Baron.

                "Nay, 'tis my son."  Tink, tink.

                "Your son - but I would not have thought you but thirty yourself, good smith."

                The Armorer laughed and brought his mighty hammer down.  "Did I say I was thirty - I have been married more years than that."

                The Baron stood in awe.  "You must come from a fine family, strong and true.  Tell me, at what age did your father die?"

                "Did I say that my father was dead?"  Tink, tinkity, wham.

                "I would strive to meet with him then,"  pronounced the Baron, forgetting himself.

                "He would enjoy talking of his exploits, but he is away training knights for the Landgraff of Galisia."

                "Still working at his age," the miller wondered aloud.

                "Aye, three and sixty if a day."  Wham!

                "At what fine age then did you grandfather stop working - pass away?"

                "Did I say that my grandfather was dead?

                "This is truly amazing, a miracle," proclaimed the knight.  "Is he healthy then, and fit."

                "Aye, and all that.  Fit at more than 90 years.  In fact, he is getting married next Sunday but one."

                "Married?  Married?  Why would a man of 90 want to get married?"

                "Did I say he wanted to get married?"

Kinjal of Moravia