The Bronze Ring

Part 2

When the Gardener's son left the city by the South Gate, he found it just as the old woman had said. As he walked, first a white dog crossed his path, then a black dog, then a red one. He took and killed them with more confidence at every one that came and then made a roaring fire to burn them in. Each corpse was burned, the ashes put in a bag of a corresponding color, and then securely tied to his belt. When all this was done, he laid down and slept for the rest of the night. 

At the first gleam of morning he was up, and he chased the dawn back to the South Gate, up through the city, and to the palace doors, the three bags of ashes at his side. He stopped running by a fountain near the gate and drank deeply, preparing his throat. Then he started to walk back and forth in front of the gate crying "A celebrated physician has just come from Janina in Albania! He alone can cure the King and give him back the strength of his youth!"

When the King's physicians heard his young man’s voice crying before the gate they laughed, and told him to take his charlatan's craft somewhere else. Harsh words fell on brave ears, and he continued to cry "A celebrated physician has come from Janina in Albania!" until his words finally came to kingly ears. The Sultan waved his advisors aside and called in the young man. 

Into the palace he came, clothes blackened with soot and three colored bags at his side. He was led into a richly decorated chamber to tell the Sultan all he must do to regain his youth.

The Sultan was old and wrinkled as leather, and shook so violently that the many golden trinkets on his headdress jingled like bells, even when he was only sitting. When he had listened to everything this young stranger had to say, the Sultan waved one old, long-fingered hand, and three mules, all the wood they could carry, and a great cauldron were brought as the young man was entertained with tea and richly spiced cakes. When everything was with them in the room the sultan ordered that they be left alone. None of the King's advisors or his guards came to bother the Gardener's son as he began the fire. Or when smoke plumed from the window in the palace wall all morning. Or when the young man lifted the old king into his arms, light as a feather, and climbed onto a chair to put him in the pot. He boiled and boiled merrily away, until the Gardener's son had pulled down every drape from the walls and rug from the floor to keep the fire blazing, and every piece of wood the mules had brought was turned to ash. Nothing was left of the Sultan but his bones. 

The Gardener's son took the bones, and he had barely finished throwing the ashes of the last colored bag over him when the Sultan sprang up, young and strong and roaring with life. He stared at his own strong, smooth brown hands and cried, and kissed the Gardener's son on the cheek. 

"How can I reward you, my savior?" he cried. "You shall have half the treasure in my kingdom if you only say the word!"

"No," said the gardener's son, crossing his arms. 

"The hand of my daughter in marriage?" 

"No." 

"Half of the kingdom itself then!" 

"No. The only reward I will accept is the bronze ring which can instantly grant me anything I wish for."

A shadow crossed the King's face, but quickly cleared as he caught sight of his hand again where it clasped the other young man's shoulder.

"Alas!" he said, "I set great store by that marvelous ring. Nevertheless, if that is what you wish for, you shall have it." 

The Sultan flung open the chamber door and strode out with nothing but a drape tied round his waist and immediately cried for his bronze ring. And some clothes. His old advisors knew him from pictures and the ancient annals of their youthful memories, and they rushed to serve him with shaking hands. The Gardener's son they refused to look in the eye. 

The Sultan presented the his benefactor with the ring and begged him to stay for a season, if not the rest of his life, but the Gardener's son escaped the court's ceremonious gratitude as quickly as he could and made for the beggar's inn. 

He found the old woman there, smiling gap-toothed and knowing, and embraced her. Then he went to the seashore.

The breeze was unspeakably fresh compared to the city behind him, and the sun glinted off the ring on his finger. 

He raised his hand in front of him and extended it towards the sea, and he told the ring "Prepare a splendid ship for me; let the hull be of fine gold, the masts of silver, the sails of brocade; and let the crew consist of twelve noble young men, dressed like kings. A man like Saint Nicholas shall be at the helm, and as for the cargo, let it be diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and carbuncles." 

The rush of water displaced by the hull of such a ship nearly toppled the boats next to it, and drove the people around from the edge of the dock. They gawked from a distance as the Gardener's son strode past them, through the water that had splashed up onto the wharf, and up the gangplank to the ship. As soon as he was on board, out came the oars, the sails unfurled, and the Gardener's son left that town.

He traveled down the coastline in his marvelous ship until he came to a great town, only barely any smaller than the capital city, and established himself with his men in a wonderful palace created by the service of the ring. 

Several days after this, but not too long after, who should he see in a shadowy alley off the marketplace but the Minister's son. His rival, the son of his King's Prime Minister, had spent all the money given him and was reduced to a carrier of dust and rubbish. 

The Gardener's son approached him in the alley and asked "Who are you? What is your name, your family, and what country do you come from?" 

The Prime Minister tossed his unkempt hair out of his eye and looked at the Gardner's son suspiciously. "I am the son of a Prime Minister of a great nation, and I do this now! This is the degrading work I am reduced to."

The Gardener's son saw he didn't recognize him in his new clothes and said "Listen, even though I don't know anything more than what you just told me, I am willing to help you. I will give you a ship to take back to your own country, but on one condition."

The Minister's son looked at his silk hat and rich clothes with a hopeful eye and said "Whatever your condition is, I accept it willingly!"

"Follow me to my palace." The Gardener's son gestured, and immediately the Minister's son straightened, following close behind the wealthy stranger. 

When they reached the palace, the Gardener's son took his slaves and ordered them to undress the Minister's son. Then he took the bronze ring off his finger and gave it to them. "Make this ring red-hot." He ordered, "And mark this man on his back with it." 

As he watched, the slaves obeyed, and branded the signet of the bronze ring onto the back of the Minister's son.

The Minister's son yelled at the pain of the branding, but did not otherwise complain, and when the ring was cool the Gardener's son put it back on his finger. 

"Now young man," said the rich stranger. "I am going to give you a vessel that will bring you back to your own country."

Then he stepped out to the side of his palace facing the sea and said to his hand: "Bronze ring, obey your master. Make me a ship of half-rotted timbers, all painted black, and let the sails be rags and the sailors infirm and sickly. One shall have lost a leg, another an arm, the third a hunchback, another lame or club-footed or blind, and most of them shall be ugly and covered with scars. Go and execute my orders."

The power left the ring like a whirlwind on the sea, and within a moment the ship was sitting black and mournful before the Gardener's son. 

He watched from the dock as the Minister's son slowly left the wharf with a creaking ship and cold, bitter winds behind him. But despite their bitterness, the winds were strong, and within a short time the Minister's son came back to his own country.