Testimonium Regis - Part 4 of 5

“Would you be quiet!” Aldus whispered. “The whole bloody castle will hear you!”

“Ceremony’s approaching, Aldus. Howard is down there drooling over all the hearts in the hall. Platform’s already been built up. Hurry, would you?”

 

“Please, Lord Blacksmith. Give Aldus time. He has been taking this on himself. He’s old now and refuses to allow me to help. Surely the council would give him more time as a respected member of -” Hugh spoke up.

 

“Thank you, Hugh. But Will is right. I must finish.”

 

“Then here you are.” Will said, holding out the false heart. Aldus took it from him. “Damn shame that’s going in him. He deserved better. Better than I could give him. I’m taking this shame to my grave.” 

 

Now that Aldus held the golden heart in his hand, held it in front of Jerome’s body, his heart swelled again. He placed the golden heart beside the boy on the slab. He began to feel faint, his knees wobbling. Trying to push past it, he gripped the shears, but couldn’t tighten his hand. His breathing became troubled. He steadied himself against the slab.

 

“Aldus?” Hugh asked after him. “Are you alright?”
 

He had never felt more…old. Frail. His hands ached, his head ached. His eyes and heart throbbed with a viscous sadness that sprung from a leak somewhere deep in him. A rupture caused by those blue lips, those closed eyes, that poor boy, that human heart. He held out another hand to steady himself.

 

“For God’s sake, man, pull it together!” Will exclaimed as he and Hugh moved to steady their friend.

 

“I don’t…I don’t believe I can do this.” Aldus admitted.

 

“That’s alright, Sir Aldus. I will -” Hugh started.

 

“No! I mean none of us should do this. The ceremony.”

 

Hugh’s brow furrowed and he looked to Will. Will’s eyes were wide.

 

“What are you getting at?” Will asked.

 

“Help me to a chair. I’ll tell you.” They escorted the old man to a chair and sat him down with care. “It was something he said to me. A sentiment he expressed once when he was no more than a babe and once more when I visited him one year ago. I thought I would hold this secret alone but…I feel I must tell you now that the moment is upon us.” He leaned back and didn’t realize that his hand drifted up to his own heart as he spoke.

 

Aldus recounted how, a year prior, he was summoned by the young Jerome III to the court of their neighboring allied kingdom. They met in the castle garden. Aldus swelled with pride when he saw the young man the boy he remembered had become. Still a child, of course, but just about to burst from the chrysalis. Aldus wasn’t sure what to expect. He hadn’t seen the boy for about eight years. Would Jerome even recognize his old friend beyond his title?

 

Any doubt was dispelled when, upon entering the garden, he saw Jerome bounding towards him past the flowers and shrubs. Jerome hugged his old companion, nearly knocking him over. Though it was a bit rough for Aldus in his age, he wouldn’t dare jeopardize the moment.

 

“My old friend! You came!” Jerome exulted.

 

“Of course, my liege. You summoned me.”

 

Jerome scoffed at this. “I should hope you would come even if it wasn’t an order, Aldy.” 

Aldy! He does remember me!

 

“You know, I cried for days when I was first taken. I thought I’d never see you again.”

 

“You need only have summoned me.”

 

“Couldn’t you have taken a holiday? The ride here isn’t so long.”

 

“I believe both our studies have held us prisoner. Regardless, I was ordered by a number of important people not to distract you while you came up, my king.”

 

The boy dropped his gaze. “If I’d have known that, I would have requested you sooner. In earnest, not just as a pouting babe.”

 

“But I am here now, my lord. And grateful for it.”

 

Jerome smiled, baring his brilliant teeth. “Yes. You’re right.” He wrapped an arm around the shoulders of his old companion and gestured to the garden. He was now taller than Aldus by a head. “Come, walk with me a bit, if you can.”

 

“I can, my liege.”

 

“And enough of this ‘my liege’ nonsense. I can un-summon you, you know.” Jerome jabbed. He dismissed the guards standing post in the garden nearby and the two walked. They discussed Jerome’s studies, his interests. Aldus gave lurid details of surgeries he’d overseen and Jerome asked that no detail be spared. Jerome asked of the people of the kingdom. If they were well, if they were happy and fed. When their conversation hit a lull, when they were more or less caught up, Aldus worried that he would simply be sent home. They came across a bench.

 

“Sit with me, Aldy.” Jerome said in a flat tone. His mood changed as if a cold breeze had invaded the balmy summer afternoon.

 

“You don’t grow tired, do you? Young man such as yourself.”

 

“My legs, no. My heart, though, is another question.” They sat. Jerome focused on a fixed point in the sky and avoided eye contact.

 

“Your heart? Why, what’s wrong? You seem healthy as a horse.”

 

“It’s not a sickness. Or…perhaps it is. The physicians here are fine enough. They put salves on my cuts and scrapes. However, when I prod them for information on my heart, well, you might guess what they say. ‘You have a golden heart, my lord, of which we are woefully uninformed’. That and other such vagueness. To my knowledge, you’re the only person on God’s earth that has any idea of these damned things.” He punctuated the sentiment with a thump against his chest with his open palm. 

 

“What troubles you about it? Do you often feel faint?”

 

“No. My body works. It works well. But my heart…oh, dammit all. It’s not faint I feel. It’s melancholy. Aldus, I despair when I think that, inside me, is some…aberration. Something that makes me different. I am told that it is a manifestation of my right to rule. My sovereignty. And yet…” His words failed him. His lower lip quivered. He was transmuted to a child in that instant. Aldus placed a hand on his young friend’s shoulder.

 

“And yet?” Aldus goaded. Jerome faced him.

 

“I do not want to rule! I spit on this golden heart!” The adolescent shouted. He stood as if to run away. He did not, though, for he had nowhere to go. No one else he wanted to divulge this feeling to. To prevent suspicion, Aldus applied a soft grip to the young king’s wrist and guided him back to the bench. 

 

They sat in silence for a spell. The boy king’s heavy breath loud in the quiet afternoon, the old man trying to conjure words of wisdom. What shall I tell him? That he needn’t rule? That he should abdicate? Then what, you old jester? Shall your legacy be chaos?

 

Jerome figured his next steps would be right on the tip of the surgeon’s tongue. “What should I do, Aldus?”

 

Diagnose. The word seeped from Aldus’ brain as if squeezed from a wet sponge.

 

“My lord, er, my boy. Forgive me for asking, but why do you not wish to rule? Many men would give anything - everything - for that to be in their cards. You’ll have a kingdom to own, scores of countryfolk to serve you, territory to conquer and -” he began. 

 

“It’s too much for one man.” The boy king sighed. “I’ve been schooled in history. I read of the conquests of my father. Of my grandfather. Of the exploits and wars and pillaging and rivalries and courtships and blood of all my line. What I do not hear of is the people. The yeoman who raises our crops. The cook who prepares our meals.The surgeon who fixes us when we are broken.”

 

Aldus couldn’t resist a smile. He nodded for Jerome to continue.

 

“A king is only as strong as their people. You told me that, Aldus. I wish to be one of them instead.”

 

“For their strength?” Aldus quizzed.

 

“No. For their humanity. For their reality. I do not wish to be tucked away in some castle, commanding scores of them to do my bidding without ever looking upon them. Without ever knowing them. They should not serve me. They should serve…each other! Golden hearts or not!” His words cascaded out now. He stood and paced, unable to sit any longer. “My God, Aldus, how many other kings are on this earth? None of them have golden hearts, yet they rule unabated over their kingdoms. And yet my slice of earth is endowed to me by this…bauble? The whole idea is silly. I wish that sodding comet from the story never came down. I wish I was born to a farmer. I wish my duty was to give bread to my neighbors. I wish…the people would open their eyes and see how this is all a farce!”

 

The boy king tugged at his hair and quickened his pacing.

 

“My lord, please, sit. You’ll attract attention.”

 

“I asked you not to use such titles with me! I’m just Jerome! Just that! A name that only means anything because of my whoring father anyway.”

 

He sat, having expended his energy. He spoke ill of the dead king but the shock in his eyes at his own admission was only there a moment before he blinked it away. Aldus’ own heart, his red heart, his old heart, swelled with the joy and clarity of a religious awakening. Jerome’s rant brought forth memories of pointless wars, executions, petulant, drunken tirades that ended with the death and oppression of scores of people. His habit of biting his tongue held him in silence, but the boy king - no, the man - before him spoke pure sense.

 

“I suppose your next steps, what you do with these feelings, aren’t up to me. What is it you wish to do?” The inflamed surgeon asked. Jerome thought. He massaged his temple to organize his wild thoughts. A smile of his own tugged the corners of his lips.

 

“At my formal coronation…I’ll remove the crown from my head and toss it into the hearth. I’ll declare abdication. I will open the castle to those in attendance outside. Should any of the leeches who call themselves lords and barons and earls attempt to seize me or stop my intentions, I’ll allow the people to decide how we should go forward. They are the greater number. What is a lord to one hundred farmers?” At this, he began pacing again. Aldus was happy to see that the boundless energy of his early childhood had not yet left him. “If all works as I foresee it going, I will send word to my uncle who will no doubt be absent. I will be open and honest and…I expect a coup from him. I will invite him to meet with me. To speak as men. To explain. If he does not see reason, the people will see to relieving him of his titles as well. Once he is dealt with, once our land is dealt with, I’ll come here with a delegation. I will let the king of this land see our strength in numbers, our happy people. I will appeal to him and ask him to consider the burden he’d be lifting from himself and his children if he, too, abdicated. Then he and I, with both our delegation, shall go to the next kingdom and the next. Until there are no more kings. Until we are all people as we surely once were, ages ago. That is what I wish to do, Jerome. Only then, when every throne is empty and every crown is smelted, will I feel human. That is when this golden heart will cease to make me feel nauseous with every beat.”

Aldus sat with all this for a moment, stunned. For all this to tumble out of the mouth of a young man, only a waddling toddler so recent in Aldus’ mind, was supernatural. He almost believed it was all possible, this upheaval, because of the vigor with which the words were spoken. But Aldus was an old man. An old man who had seen the rise and fall of young men, watched them fizzle like the foam left behind by a roaring wave. Confidence like this, unwavering and apart from reality, is a young man’s exhaust. Aldus knew that these matters of politics never proceed without friction, knew how much more simple and predictable greed was. Knew more still that, when all was said, those confident words are fragile and may splinter when met with the bestial hunger for a crown.

 

But God damn it! Why can’t we try? No one’s tried!

 

“Aldus, are you alright?” Jerome asked. The old surgeon was always a bit slow to speak, but the thoughts in his head, like wasps from a kicked nest, made coherence impossible at the moment.

 

“This is a lot to take in, my boy.” He managed after a few moments.

 

“Believe me, I know.” He laughed, a loud laugh forced from his gut. “You think I haven’t mulled this over a million times before I asked you to come?”

 

“Mulled or fantasized?” Aldus asked. A sweat had broken out on the back of his neck. The afternoon no longer had a pleasant warmth. He felt as if he just opened a second bottle of wine.

 

“I know you think me a child. I know I’m young. That doesn’t make my words less true.”

 

“Why tell me? Have you informed anyone else?”

 

“I don’t trust anyone else, Aldus. And, truth be told, I’m telling you because I need your support in this. I don’t believe any of it would be possible unless you’re behind me. If you are, then the Lord Blacksmith will be. If he is, then his workmen will be. And your guild-members. And if they are all with me, so will the merchants. So will the yeoman. I need you for this and I know you share my sensibilities.” At this, Jerome knelt and took Aldus’ varicose hand in his. “Unless I know that when I throw that crown away that you will nod in approval, I believe I’ll choke on my words. I’ll lose my conviction. Unless I know that when I die, the Testimonium Regis will not be performed as it has, but that the surgeon at that time will swap my heart out with a normal one so that I may be confirmed a man like any other upon my death. Can you facilitate this? Can you do me this honor not as your king but as your good friend?”

 

A dam burst inside Aldus in that garden. Tears were formed where they hadn’t been known for decades, not since his mother died. He was a fool, a proud father, a giddy school boy and a nail-biting conspirator all at once. He could only nod at the young man before him who knew that no one would, could, say no to him. Jerome squeezed Aldus’ hand right up to the point of pain. “I am nearly sixteen. My formal coronation is only six months away now. Time runs short. I need your spoken vow, Aldus.”

“I promise. I will support you.” Aldus croaked.

 

Jerome III did not make it to the end of the week. Only days after Aldus returned home, Jerome was thrown from his horse after it was spooked by a snake on the path. His skull was cracked against a rock. By all estimations, he was dead on impact. When receiving the news, Aldus’ mind rejected it outright. This was a cruel joke. Perhaps a ploy Jerome was playing to gain some sort of advantage for his plan. Perhaps a boy that looked like Jerome was found and they simply hadn’t checked his chambers where he was sleeping in that day and -

 

The body arrived at the castle and was sent with haste to Aldus’ tower. The left temple had been caved in, yes. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Aldus was sure he could have saved him. He cursed himself for not staying. He could have done something, anything, to prevent this death. The mental invalids that others call surgeons were the true criminals here. Aldus bet they hadn’t tried anything to save the boy! He’d call for their hanging. He’d call for their drawing behind a horse to have their head bashed on every rock for ten miles! He’d open them himself with his own tools and -

 

Now here he was, the young idealog’s corpse on the table, heart fully exposed with their secret now known to the three in attendance. Will stared at the ground, rotating the crude golden heart in his hand, his calloused fingers passing over it. His expression was softening underneath his soot-stained beard. Aldus could tell what his old friend was thinking. Be a shame to put this piece of rubbish in the boy. Hugh scanned his mentor, prodding for any sense that this was a jest; not that Aldus had ever been one to joke before, especially about something like this.

 

“Young King Jerome said these things? To you?” Hugh asked.

 

“Aye.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell us the moment you returned?” Will whispered to the floor.

 

“I felt it was not my position to tell. Besides, I didn’t know how it would be received. It’s…dramatic.”

 

“It’d be a storm of shit is what it’d be.” Will declared. He looked up and amongst them. Then he crossed to the blazing hearth in the room and tossed his failed creation into the fire. Hugh’s eyes widened

 

“What are you doing, man!?” Hugh demanded.

“I didn’t want to put that rubbish in him anyhow.”

“Aldus! Did you see that? He -!”

“Keep your voice down, Hugh, I saw. I suppose we have to follow through now.” Aldus said, not sure exactly what it was that would come next.