King Oderonk's Geese

King Oderonk was a good king, as kings go. He was not particularly wise, but he had a good heart and he listened well. That was what made him a good king. He was also getting old, so each of the celebrations on the anniversary of his coronation grew fancier. The anniversary of his thirtieth year as King was no exception. The members of the King's court had planned a great party. As with all parties, gifts were expected.

A gift for King Oderonk was no simple matter. After thirty years, his gifts required much thought and sometimes great expense. The watchmaker outdid himself each year, bringing fancier time-pieces. The Baker's pastries grew tastier, and the Swordmaster's swords stronger and flashier. Even the lower subjects competed for the King's attention. Because, after all, the gift was for good King Oderonk.

That was why Gundaar was concerned. Gundaar lived far from the sheltering walls of the King's castle and the Royal City. Beyond the fields of wheat and rye, through the great southern forest, to the very edge of the King Oderonk's realm is where Gundaar lived. He made his home in a small thatched cottage that sat on the far southern edge of the great forest. Here, the forest turned into marsh and swamp, and just beyond was a great body of water, The Vendersted, where no one went. It was a quiet, comfortable place to live and no one bothered Gundaar. But it also left him with little money or expensive things, and those were just the kind of gifts everyone was expected to give for the King's grand celebrations.

Still, Gundaar was not terribly upset, for this year he had thought of a wonderful gift. At past celebrations he had brought what simple fare he could to please the King. There were truffles gathered from the great forest, decorative garlands of honeysuckle vines to adorn the Great Hall, and once he had even made a deer-skin leather coat for when the King went hunting. But others also lived on the edge of the great forest as well -- near the safety of the castle, of course -- and brought similar gifts from the bounty of the forest. This year, though, Gundaar planned to give what no one could match.

Out in the marshes beyond the great forest, in the whispering sedge and waving cypress stalks, lived many wild geese that were found nowhere else in the King's vast realm. Gundaar had only recently gone out into the dangerous maze of backwater, through its brackish and secretive paths. He had carefully selected a few wild-goose eggs to try, and to his surprise had delighted in their taste. His first thought had been what a grand gift they would make for the King.

And so, patiently, Gundaar waited for the coronation anniversary celebration to arrive. The day before, he slipped into his boat and poled his way toward the nesting geese. Apologizing to his new-found friends, and amid their banter of assorted protests, he selected two dozen of the freshest eggs. The next day, Gundaar set out through the great forest, across the fields of wheat and rye, to the sheltering walls of the Royal City and the beginning sounds of celebration within.

Gundaar entered the city and approached the entrance of the Great Hall.  There, he waited to register as one of the King's gift-givers. He had just done so when the sun reached the middle of the sky and bells throughout the Royal City began to clang, announcing the arrival of the King. Swept along by a great throng, Gundaar could barely contain his excitement as he entered the Great Hall.

The King's Grand Minister, in fancy robes, appeared at the head of the Great Hall. "Har ye, Har ye!" he announced in his booming voice. "Hearken ye all to good King Oderonk's thirtieth coronation anniversary celebration."

At once there came such a rush of noise that Gundaar thought his hearing would surely be lost. Even so, he could not help adding to the racket as the King was ushered to the throne. The celebration had begun, and the time for gift-giving was at hand.

One by one the loyal subjects approached the throne and presented their gifts. The King would do more than simply accept them. He would talk with the giver in mild tones, making it a much-remembered event. The procession continued amid "Ahh's" and "Ohh's" as some of the more wonderful gifts were presented. Gundaar knew that no one would cry in excitement over his gift, but his aim was to please the King, and of this he was certain.

He looked down at the numbered disc in his hand, one he had been given as he registered outside the Great Hall. His turn was coming soon, and he moved to take his place in line. His knees began to shake, not in fear, but from excitement. The line moved slowly forward until finally his moment came, and Gundaar approached the throne.

The Minister looked down at the list in his hand, then announced Gundaar in a booming voice, saying, "Gundaar ... of the Southern Reaches."

Gundaar moved closer and bowed deeply, as was the custom. Rising, he presented his gift to the clerk seated beside the King.

"Your Majesty," Gundaar began his opening statement (all gifts were presented with a statement). "South of the great forest lies a land of swamp and marshes."

King Oderonk smiled. He knew this, of course, but he was not the kind of king that rudely interrupted his guests.

Gundaar continued. "Only recently have I discovered many wild geese nesting there. It is a place most suitable for them, with good cover and a rich supply of food."

The King leaned forward and spoke in his charming voice. "You seem to know the ways of nature well, Gundaar of the Southern Reaches."

"Oh yes, Majesty, I have studied nature and know of the bounty it provides." Gundaar, paused, then he stiffened his back and his voice took on great formality. "That is why this year, in honor of your coronation, I would like to present you with this gift of wild-goose eggs that are found nowhere else in your realm."

The King leaned forward and peered into the basket of eggs with a sideways squint. "Are you sure they are edible?"

"Oh yes, Majesty," Gundaar said quickly. "I have eaten them myself and as you see, I suffer no ill effects."

The King leaned back and grinned. "Well then, you have given me a truly unusual gift Gundaar. I will have them for breakfast and share them with the royal family."

Gundaar rose to his feet, beaming. He bowed as he backed away. "Thank you, Majesty. You are too kind."

As expected, his gift had not been met by exclamations of wonderment from the more noble and wealthy subjects. But as Gundaar moved to take his place in the crowd again, he could not help notice envious stares. He had given a special gift, the King had said so, and his chest swelled. King Oderonk was truly a good king.

The days passed and the thirtieth coronation anniversary celebration became a memory. Gundaar returned to the cottage and the land he loved, and life went on as usual. Every now and then Gundaar would pause and reflect on the words the King had spoken, and a smile would cross his lips. He always returned to his chores with renewed vigor.

One day, an ambassador came from the King. "The King enjoyed the gift of your eggs very much, Gundaar," said the King's ambassador.  "He wishes to know where he can get a steady supply."

Gundaar could hardly contain his enthusiasm. "Come, I will show you," he said. And that is what he did, and that is what brought grief to Gundaar of the Southern Reaches.

Because, you see, the King had enjoyed the taste of the eggs so much that he had issued a special proclamation. Being a good king, he always wished to share the good things he received with his subjects. So, not long after he had tasted the eggs, he decreed that there should be a supply of wild-goose eggs for every family in the kingdom.

Gundaar lived so far from the Royal City that he knew nothing about the King's proclamation. His gift had been a simple one, from a simple man. And so, he gladly showed the ambassador where the eggs could be found.

The first thing that happened was that a great road was built through the forest of the south. Gundaar had always used a little trail, just wide enough for his horse and small cart. Now trees were cut to widen the road for large, massive wagons.

Then, the King sent sturdy mountain men from the north to drive pilings into the murky water along the edge of the marsh. Against these pilings they braced great logs which they had removed from the surrounding forest. Soon the edge of the forest near Gundaar's cottage was a tangle of stumps and tree tops. The logs and pilings formed a wall as the water was drained from the marshland -- to better collect the eggs.

Finally, farm hands arrived and began to collect the wild-goose eggs from places that used to be marshy, but were now dry. The sedge and cypress were soon trampled underfoot. Geese began to leave the dry marsh, and the King's workers had to drain more of the marsh to collect enough eggs, until finally very little was left of the great swamp. It became a place of dried and dying vegetation.

Gundaar sat and watched all this from the window of his small cottage. The King had ordered that Gundaar's property be protected because of his wonderful gift, but that brought little cheer to Gundaar. He sat and watched, heartbroken, as the land he loved was destroyed.

One day, Gundaar could stand it no longer and set out for the Royal City, intent on setting things right. After arriving, he waited three days until he got an audience with the King. It was not because the King did not wish to speak with him, but because there are many decisions that a king must make. Finally, Gundaar was brought forward to meet the King in his audience chamber.

"Your Majesty," began Gundaar.

"How goes the collection of wild-goose eggs?" asked the King.

"That goes well, Majesty. Many eggs are being collected."

"That is good, Gundaar, I cannot thank you enough for showing us such a great gift from nature."

Gundaar nodded.

"Is that why you have come? To inform me of the progress?" asked the King.

"No, Majesty ... there is a problem."

"Oh, and what is that?"

Gundaar took a deep breath and brought forth all his courage. "It is the marshland. Your workers have destroyed most of it to collect the eggs, and the forest at the edge of the marsh is badly damaged."

"What do marshland and forest concern me? Marshland produces nothing and I have plenty of forests."

"Majesty," continued Gundaar. "There is a story my father told me when I was young. It seems one day a pig ate his fill of acorns under an oak tree and then started to root around at its base. A crow flew by and told the pig he should not do that, because if he hurt the roots then the tree would wither and die. The pig told the crow to let it die, what did he care as long as there were acorns."

"I fail to understand," said the King.

"Your Majesty," said Gundaar. "All things in nature are connected. Like the oaks that produced the acorns, the very things you have destroyed is what produced your eggs. It was not just the geese, but where they lived that gave you what you wanted. The marshland provided a home for the geese. There they nested and found shelter. And while you have much forest land throughout your realm, the edge of the forest near the marsh provided food for the geese. The eggs will run out one day because these things are being destroyed."

The King sat back and scratched his noble beard. "Gundaar, as I recall, when you presented me with your gift I asked if you had studied the ways of nature."

Nodding his head in agreement was all Gundaar could do.

"I think," said the King, "that I am in need of an adviser, one who knows the mysteries of nature. Then my laws will not only benefit the people, but benefit the land as well. Can you be that advisor to me, Gundaar of the Southern Reaches?"

"Majesty," Gundaar stammered. "With great honor."

As I said, King Oderonk was not particularly wise, but he had a good heart and he listened well. That is what made him a good king. And so Gundaar met with the King in long, late-night sessions. Then one day he went back though the fields of wheat and rye, through the great forest, to the very southern edge of the King's realm. From there he directed good King Oderonk's new plan.

The road though the forest was allowed to re-seed from the surrounding forest, because as Gundaar said, 'a forest will come back as long as nothing disturbs it.' The pilings and logs were removed from what used to be the marsh so that the water could return, bringing back the whispering sedge and waving cypress stalks. The edge of the great forest where it met the swamp was replanted with seedlings to hasten the recovery of the landscape. Throughout the land, the King was proclaimed as a great friend to nature. Gundaar was made Minister of the King's Wild Lands, a role he fulfilled nobly and well to his dying day.

And what of the geese? Over time, the marshland came back and the geese returned. Every so often, Gundaar would go into the marsh and collect a small number of eggs to be handed out wisely among the King's loyal subjects, sometimes as a reward for helping conserve the land. And to this very day, if you listen closely to the wild geese as they fly overhead, you will hear them calling out the name of good King Oderonk.