King Jormund and his Exotic Perfumes

A Story by Srikanth C.

A short story about a whimsical king and his wily court jester.

King Jormund was an intelligent man….mostly. He was, however, also known for his absolutely impossible requests. Last year, for example, he was obsessed with obtaining a pet dragon. First he had offered 10 villages to anybody who did. After a week he started to raise the reward. Still there was silence. After many days without response the king started to get annoyed. He created the famous Dragon Mandate, which would not let any foreigner come into the city without a dragon in custody. This slowly stopped all trade and the city gradually started dying out because of lack of supplies. That was until the court jester fetched the King an ostrich egg dipped in gold. He said it was laid by a great dragon. The king accidentally cracked it with his clumsy fingers, so he turned it into an omelet. After satisfying his stomach, the king eventually stopped trying to get another egg. The Court jester used many such tricks to keep the whimsical king in check. The king would have sent the whole kingdom into ruin without the jester!

Many days had gone by since King Jormund had last asked for a present. He had been caught in many diplomatic duties and didn’t even have time to hold feasts in the Great Halls. He was soon losing sleep and was plagued with nightmares whenever he did. This particular night his nightmares were even more vivid than usual.

“My nose! It is gone!” The king’s eyelids burst open and he slowly started to breath normally once again. He felt the bridge of his nose and looked cross-eyed, just enough so he was able to see its tip. “What a horrid dream. My nose… It was… gone! This must be an evil omen! I never paid enough attention to it!” The king sat up in bed.

"I know! I will make an announcement! I will make sure that I will satisfy my nose’s cravings!” He got up and while getting himself ready for court, he thought, Yes. I will make up for that awful nightmare!

The jester ran out of his house in a rush. He was late for court! The king would behead him in an instant if he was ever late! In his hurry he crashed into every passerby unfortunate enough to cross his path. As he ran, he plucked an apple from the cart of each fruit vender he passed. He juggled them to his parked carriage.

“That takes care of breakfast!” The jester exclaimed as he jumped on his carriage and immediately held the rim.

“Charlie, get there as fast as we can! Forget the pedestrians, just go!” The old carriage driver held the reins and zipped top speed through the street.

In the flurry, the jester’s cap flew off his head. He scrambled over the edge, grasping the air and flailing his arms. He was leaning over the edge so far that he almost tumbled off the edge. At that moment Charlie yanked on his puffy collar and pulled him back in the cart.

“Sir, you must not exert yourself like that. I have another one right over here.” He pulled out a crumpled jester’s cap from his pocket.

“Charlie, you truly are one of a kind!” He cheerfully plunked the cap on his head and bit out half an apple. With a mouthful of apple, he said “Wof a bife?”

“No sir. I really don’t need it. You need it during court.”

“Oh yes, speaking of court, are we there yet?”

“Sir, see for yourself.” The jester looked up.

“Blimey, what happened here?” There was a mob of courtiers banging on the gate. Yelling, punching, shouting and hollering. One of them ran up to the jester.

“We can’t get in; the king is not opening the gate!”

“Couldn’t you just ask the sentries?”

“The sentries don’t answer; we tried it a million times! What do you suggest?”

As the jester was about to answer, the great doors opened. Out came the king sitting on his palanquin, lavishly dressed in the finest of silks of many colors. Embedded in his dress were diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires, with splendid silver-lining. But the jester was not pleased to see this. Whenever the king dresses in such clothing, it meant that he had a desire more impossible than the last. He gulped. Next to the king, was a gangly legged squire with a long scroll. He squeaked out the scroll like a book.

“Here ye, hear ye! The lord of this fair country, the Savior of Smiles, the Greatest of the Greats!” At this point his voice rose up like a fog horn. “King Jormund!” The old king nimbly hopped off his palanquin. He cleared his throat and began.

“I have a request. It comes to my mind that I have never paid attention to the senses around me. So from now on " excluding my guards, servants and my family " no one is permitted in or out of the castle doors, without presenting to me all the smells that the nose knows.” The king guffawed. “Get it? The nose knows! It’s a pun!” The whole assembly was quiet. Everybody turned to each other, silently agreeing that their king was an absolute nutcase. The jester skipped up to the king.

“M’ lord, every great king needs some form of entertainment.”

“Well, this one doesn’t.” And the king strode off back into his palace.

The jester threw the stone. It skipped seven times on the water and dropped to the bottom. He took his jester’s cap. It was in a bag that he usually kept his magic tricks in. It was now ready for the finale, the great disappearing act. He dropped a few pebbles in and let it go. It splashed into the river and a dark cloud erupted on the river bed. He felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve lost all… Lost it all! My job, my life! I can’t get into the palace because of my king’s ridiculous demands!” Charlie comforted him.

“You didn’t lose everything. You can always retire. Forget that rotten king.”

“Rotten….yes…yes…that might just work…Why didn’t I think of it before…?”

“What?”

“Chum, you just gave me a splendid idea!” And with that, the jester dived into the river. There was a splash and Charlie saw the shadow of the jester in the water. Finally he resurfaced. And he was clutching a small wet bag.

“I couldn’t start without the proper equipment!”

The very next day there was a long line of people, waiting for the king to check their scents. Soon, it was the jester’s turn. He gingerly took a vial and put it up to the king’s nose. The king nearly puked. It was the vilest, most rancid smell ever!

“What is it?”

“This? Oh, it is nothing but some sour milk!”

“Oh.” He rasped. “Let me smell the next one.” It was worse than the first!

“What is this?”

“Oh, just some moldy cheese.”

“Go! Go inside! I’ve had enough! Bring on the next one!”

“But I have over 40 different types of mol…”

“GO!” The jester passed through the doors. The next person came with a whole bullock cart filled with vials.

“So, what brings you to the palace?”

“I need a cure for Granny’s foot fungus. All the doctors that I spoke to said that your medicine department in the castle has a cure.”

“Very well then, bring on the smells.” His first vial contained some brownish cloth.

“What is that?”