That night the King had a dream. He was standing on a high rock, in a barren land. He seemed to be looking across a white (very light – was it sand?) landscape at a distant castle gleaming in the sun. The castle seemed to be made of some fair crystal, as it was transparent yet sparkling as the light hit it. The King was seized with desire to see the Castle more clearly, for it seemed even more beautiful than his own Palace.  The King gazed so intently at the far castle that he barely noticed the stony, muddy, earth marked with holes and craters far below his rock. He was conscious of a roaring noise and a sensation of heat from behind him. Before he could turn towards it a voice spoke in his ear.

‘Do not turn round. Look at the Castle. Do you like it?’ The voice was soft, and rose up and down, even in the middle of each sentence, almost as if the speaker was half singing. It was a joy to listen to that voice, and the world seemed dull and grey when it stopped speaking.

‘It is the most beautiful castle I have ever seen. Who does it belong to?’

‘No-one as yet. It is waiting for its rightful owner to claim it. It is not meant for mortals but a mortal King could have it if he were strong enough’

‘I am strong’

‘I wonder. Are you strong enough? The King who takes this Castle will find his name living forever, yet he will never change or look older. He will be able to move in secret ways through space and time. He will be able to do in a day what would take years for normal mortals. That is a heavy responsibility. Are you strong enough?’

‘I am the strongest and best King in the world. Tell me what I must do to gain this Castle.’

‘Do you really want to? The King who takes this Castle will have great steeds that take him round the world in a night. Could you control them? He will be able to traverse secret ways, and everywhere in the world would be open to him. He will receive messages from the flames, but will never be too hot himself. His name will live forever. Are you strong enough for this?

‘I am the strongest and best King in the world, none other than me. It is my destiny to gain this Castle and these powers. Tell me what I must do to gain this.’

‘It is simple. You must kill the usurping child, this young prince (the voice almost sneered or smiled at these words who wants your throne’

‘But I don’t know where the child is’ The king’s voice sounded weak, even to himself

‘So, are you a fool? You know the town those travellers went to. It must be there.’

‘But there must be dozens of children in that town. How will I know which one it is?’

The voice laughed, and his laughter was not loud, but the first laugh made the King’s ears ring, and the second made his stomach shrivel, and the third beat on his head with such force he fell forward to his knees.

‘Is this the ruler that everyone talks of? Is this the man so clever his country cannot do without him? Kill them all, of course. What are a few br-, no, casualties, shall we say, to a King? Do you refuse to send your men to battle because a few may get killed? Is not the job of King to balance the costs of any action against the benefits of success? That is what we mean by the strength of Kings, not mere physical force of hand or limb, but strength to make the hard decisions, the right decisions.’

‘If I do this, will I gain the Castle? Will I keep on being King for ever?’

‘If you do this, people will still be talking about you in two thousand years time’

‘Yes’ said the King, ‘I will do this. I will live forever!’

Was there a faint warning cry in the distance? Or only in the King’s mind? Just for a second a shadow appeared and moved in front of him, shifting, smoking, almost as if it was trying to form a semblance of solidity. The shadow was of man size and shape: he could see what might be arms, legs, and a head, although one of the hands seemed to be missing a finger. The King blinked, and the shadow was gone.

‘Go’ said the voice ‘Go and do this thing’