I Was a King

     In long forgotten days, many eons past, I was a king. I ruled over many millions of subservient subjects that would live and die by my words. With the wave of a hand a man could lose his life or gain land and title. I was a god, worshipped and praised. Without thought or concern I would rule my people. Justice was meted out swiftly and without mercy. I was a tyrant.

     In those years of my rule, two millennia long, my governance went from one small kingdom, lesser in size than most modern day cities, to an Empire that made Rome seem small. It’s been said that at one time the sun never set on the British Empire. This is true in that Britain held lands scattered across the globe but there was no continuity. My Empire was all of the Northern Hemisphere and over half of the Southern. Europe, Asia, Russia,  The Middle East, Egypt and Africa; crossing the Bering Strait was North America and all of South America (as the modern map would show). I was supreme and without equal.

     My armies lived to follow my every command. Either that or they died by my hand and my hand alone. Fear, respect, loyalty all were demanded of every soldier from the lowest footman to the highest ranking general. No matter what the order it was to be carried out immediately; whether to conquer another, weaker, kingdom or to execute his wife, a soldier followed his orders without question and with haste. To tarry would mean death to him, his family and most likely his entire village. I was a monster.

     A tyrant and a monster was I but, also fair. In matters of court, decisions were made on hard evidence, not just hear-say or the word of the accuser. If, in my eyes, the accused was acquitted of the charges against him his accuser was sentenced for the crime. In this way there were no false accusations against innocent people. Land and title were given to the most loyal and deserving, whether from royal blood or commoner. Corruption was non-existent as there were none more corrupt than I. Extortion, bribery, treason, theft and murder were dealt with instantly and mercilessly at the end of a sword. It was by my hand that thousands were executed before violence ended and peace came to that barbarous land.

     As I rode among my people they would bow down before me, never making eye contact with their god and ruler. To do so would be torture. Only those closest to me could look me in the eye and live. There were few of those as trust was not given easily. My people adored me as much the monster as I was. None were hungry, nor were they living in poverty. Even the women and children could walk at night without fear of being accosted by another. My people were protected better than any other ruler had ever protected them. The only thing they had to fear was me.

     As my reign came to an end after two millennia, my Empire began to crumble. With my advanced age I was weak. I could not travel as I had as a younger man so others thought to occupy my far-off lands. First to be overthrown was the South American continent. Furthest from my home in Europe it was least protected to this kind of action. As a younger ruler I would have sailed the seas and crushed anyone that attempted to take my lands but, as time had been a predator and finally had clutched my life in its’ massive jaws I could not make the journey and my people cried with anguish as they were overthrown. Rape, murder, arson and theft of property was the life this former land would endure now and until a different time when more peaceful rulers would come and conquer the savages.

     Next was the North American continent. The people of this land separated into several different tribes to protect themselves from the conquering forces. Faring better than their southern neighbors, they fought the good fight and continued on as guerrilla warriors against those that would unjustly rule. Hunger and poverty, fear and anger were what was left as this land fell from my Empire.

     It took another millennia for my Empire to completely crumble into what it started as, a small kingdom settled into a valley in central Europe. My armies, nothing more than an assembly of militia with broken swords and no armor, would be massacred if attacked. My palace was no more than a shack among the other broken down dwellings of those closest to me. With no defenses, no weapons and weakened beyond caring I lay in my bed, a shadow of the god of the glory days. Fate had caught up with the god and laughed as I drooled on myself, unable to even reach for the chamber pot to relieve myself.

     After two thousand years of glory and godhood I was alone, save for the ghosts that haunted my memories and tortured my soul. Small and afraid, I begged for death to take me. Lying there, cold and filthy, I begged Death and he laughed. It was not to be that easy. Another half millennia passed before there was nothing left of my kingdom except my humble shack. Ruins all around, uncovered windows allowing the cold and the rain to enter, no door to keep the wolves at bay made my pitiful ending even more pitiful. It was then that Death decided to come and take me. As he carried me across the River Styx he laughed and recounted all my failures and vices. He told me of my crimes against my people and those that I conquered. I had paid the price of being the tyrant and the monster and now it was time for my eternal rest. Hel welcomed me home into her realm of the dead and I rested peacefully. Waiting for the day that the earth once again needed a ruler as mighty as me.