Free Scorpion Soup by Tahir Shah Page B

thousand years before.
    Removing the brittle document, the sultan unfurled it, and held it to the light. But the words were unreadable, the alphabet unfamiliar.
    Uncertain quite how he knew to do so, the sultan lifted an interlocking catch inside the box, and a slim drawer clicked open, revealing a lens.
    Holding it to his eye, the sultan scanned the text.
    The words were miraculously deciphered by the lens.

The Most Foolish of Men
    There was once a king who was loved by all his people.
    On the day of his first son’s birth, a soothsayer was brought to the royal palace. Bending over the royal crib, he declared that the infant would have a long and contented life, and would be adored by all.
    ‘But,’ the soothsayer added before going on his way, ‘the prince must never – in any circumstances – ever be bathed.’
    ‘Why not?’ asked the king in confusion.
    ‘Because, Your Majesty, he is prophesied to drown.’
    Accordingly, throughout his childhood, the royal prince was never bathed, but rather sponged down from time to time. A special department was established in the royal household to make sure that the prince’s bath sponge never became too moist. And, when the boy drank liquid, guards watched very closely as the glass touched the royal lips.
    The prince was kept away from liquid of any kind.
    Never permitted to get close to the water’s edge at the river, or onto the beach down at the sea, he was protected in every conceivable way – his guards keeping a vigilant eye over their ward.
    He was never shown a stream, a lake, a waterfall, an icicle or snow, never permitted to swim, or even to paddle his toes. And, when it rained, he was hastened inside, for fear that an unexpected inundation might claim his life.
    Years went by, and the prince grew up.
    Then, on the morning of his father’s death, he rose to the throne as king. At last, he thought to himself, I shall be able to take control of my destiny, and learn to swim.
    But, somehow sensing his enthusiasm for water, his mother stepped from the shadows and said:
    ‘Dearest son, I caution you to keep away from water. You know the soothsayer’s prediction. Will you promise me that you will abide by it?’
    ‘I promise, Mother,’ he reluctantly replied.
    And so the years slipped away, and the young king had children of his own, and lived into old age. In all this time he had never once experienced the joy that water can bring.
    Then, one day, the king found it a little hard to breathe. He called his chamberlain, and the chamberlain called the physician royal. As he examined the monarch’s chest, the respected doctor prescribed a treatment. But the treatment did not have a positive effect, and the king became all the more unwell.
    Called to the regal bedside in the middle of the night, the physician royal examined the monarch once again.
    ‘What’s the matter with me?’ snapped the king.
    His face fraught with worry, the physician royal replied without thinking:
    ‘The trouble, Your Majesty, is that your lungs are filling with water – and you are drowning.’
    Within a day, the king was dead, and his eldest son was crowned king.
    Despite the coronation, there was much tearing out of hair, and misery and grief. Shrouds of mourning covered the buildings, as the populace struggled to come to terms with their loss. Their sorrow derived as much from the fact that the eldest son was an imbecile, as it did from the passing of his father, an exemplary and popular king.
    However hard he tried, the new ruler couldn’t think of a way to relieve the climate of national sorrow. To tell the truth, he couldn’t really think of anything much at all. He was so stupid that his own family made jokes about his lack of intelligence when his back was turned, and they called him Nums, which was short for ‘Numskull’.
    Weeks and months went by, and the people forgot how to smile. After all, with an idiot on the throne, there was nothing at all to smile about.
    Then, one