The king was the last man off the ship. Walking behind the safety of his massive general, he gazed upward.

“The mountains! Look! Just as the stargazer told us. Prepare the horses and let us ride immediately up the mountainside! There is no time to waste!”

The general turned to the king. “Your Majesty, we need to secure the area first! We cannot plunge headfirst into danger before we know what might be lurking in those trees. You cannot head up the mountain until we scout it out properly. We’ve come so far. It would be a shame to sabotage everything in a moment of excitement.”

“Look around you, general,” said the king. “There is nothing alive on this island. No man, no beast, and no spirits. You’ve read too many storybooks, and now you’re getting worked up for nothing. Give me a sword and some armor and let us proceed. I didn’t waste away at the bottom of that ship for so long only to be told I now have to wait even longer. The waters are close, and I need to drink from them as soon as possible.”

“Very well.” The general summoned the soldiers. “Bring the horses forward and prepare them for travel. We head up the mountains, today.”

The horses were prepared, the king’s royal saddle dusted off, and the men began to get into formation.

Then, unexplainably, the clouds began to turn dark, and wind filled the air. The trees on the mountaintops swayed wildly, and birds took to the sky, screeching frantically. The horses then went wild. Bucking frantically, they tossed off their riders, and galloped away. The soldier’s servants chased them, but it was too late. The horses disappeared up the mountainside, together with the weapons and food tied to their backs. Flocks of dark birds circled overhead, their screeches sending shivers up the king’s spine.

“We will travel by foot!” The king quickly rallied his men, seeing the panic in their eyes. “We will see our mission completed, and with the help of G-d nothing will stop us!”

The soldiers began to climb up the mountain, exhausted from their voyage at sea, but exhilarated at the prospect of getting to the Fountain of Youth. As they climbed the mountain, the scenery became nicer, but a strange mist hung over the rocky enclaves.

“Your Majesty.” The general pulled the king aside, red in the face and panting from the long climb. “I’m noticing that some of the men are beginning to talk among themselves. They wonder why they, too, cannot drink from the fountain. They’ve traveled so far, worked so hard, and I’m afraid things will get very nasty, very quickly, if we don’t do something. Bringing all these soldiers to the Fountain is asking for trouble. It’s too tempting. It will be total anarchy as everyone jumps into the waters, seizing immortality for themselves.”

“You have a good point.” The king bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breath. “So here’s what we will do. Have one of the captains lead most of the men in the wrong directions, buying us just enough time to get to the Fountain before they realize what is occurring. Bring a total of nine men, including yourself, with me. We’re almost there. When we get there, we can execute our getaway plan.”

“Very good, Your Majesty.”

But then they rounded a corner and the king gasped. The only way forward was to climb an extremely high, extremely steep wall. But he was too determined and too stubborn to back down now.

“It looks like we’re going to be cutting back on soldiers early,” the general remarked, tilting his head to stare up at the intimidating cliff. “We’ll leave most of the troops right here, and go up with just 40 men.”

Ropes were brought and the general tied himself to the king, binding them together with a long rope wrapped around their waists. Another soldier was also tied to the king.

“We will help you climb, Your Majesty. If you slip and fall, we will hold on for as long as we can, even to the deadly end if need be. But if one of us should fall, you cannot allow us to pull you to your death. You are the king. You must survive. Take this…” The general placed a dagger into the king’s hand. “If we fall, do not hesitate. Cut the rope.”

The king stared down at the dagger. He broke into a cold sweat.

to be continued… 

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 955)