Musa and the Enchantress

Musa and the Enchantress

Musa loved to play tricks on his brothers and sisters almost as much as he loved beating them in everything. He had always felt the need to prove that he was worthy and so he pushed himself to excel in all that he did. But his one handicap was that he refused to take responsibility for his impulsive actions. His father king Boran despaired of ever breaking him of his irresponsibility. He constantly reproached his son.

‘Musa my son, when will you learn to accept that your errant ways have consequences and one day they will dishonour your family. You are no longer a child but a man and as the son of a king you must display the mannerisms of a prince and not a street urchin.’

‘My lord and father, you worry too much and when will you learn to relax and enjoy life a little? You grow old before your time and your beard is turning grey’ humorously chided Musa.

His father would sigh and say,

‘I blame your mother for being far too indulgent with you.’

Musa would toss his mane of jet-black hair and laugh at his father giving him a condescending pat on the back. ‘Father you know that mother is wise and all knowing and that you adore her so stop blaming her for your shortfalls in humour.’

‘Musa you are incorrigible and you will lead to the death of me!’ retorted an exasperated Boran.

His mother Amestris was indeed wise and famed for her patience, which she needed with Musa. Her son had been demanding from the day that he had been born. Never, ever, had she needed to coax, cajole or hold in check her other sons and daughters? Philistra was beautiful and gentle in nature and her sister Caran though adventurous was an obedient child. Anahita was most like her being a wise child. As for Musa’s brothers, Ardashir and Darien they were truthful, strong young men.

But Musa always had to be at the front of the line. That was until the day he became lost whilst out hunting. He followed a hind into a wooded glade and due to the denseness of the woodland he had to dismount. He soon found himself lost. But wanting to prove he was the best hunter he continued until he came to two worn paths. Which should he take? He examined each for evidence of the deer’s passing but found nothing. Turning, he thought to retrace his steps when he heard singing. Walking on he found a clearing and within the clearing sat a maid of surpassing beauty. She sang,

‘I am a maid that seeks true love,

To be held in my lover’s arms.

He must be strong and famed and great,

But serve me well and long.

A handsome man of charming estate

Whose heart will be mine alone.’

As she sang she looked up at him with eyes as soft as a does framed by long, thick lashes. Musa was immediately captivated and fell in love with the maid. He did not account for time as he and the maid made love many times over. Musa thought of no one else but the maid.

‘Who are you and what is your name?’

‘My name is as old as the sun but you may called me Desiree.’

Musa was so enamoured he forgot time and time forgot him. His parents searched for him. Years sped past and despite the offer of a huge reward no one could locate Musa. His parents mourned for him.

Musa was blissfully happy and lived only for the days of lovemaking with Desiree. But gradually he began to notice that his strength was leaving him. He chanced upon a mirror and looking at his reflection saw a middle-aged man. This could not be right, as he was only twenty-one? He immediately spoke with Desiree who laughed and said he must be mistaken.

‘Come and taste this delicious wine and let us make merry.’

Musa found it nigh impossible to refuse her. Years had past since Musa disappeared and his father Boran conferred with his advisors. It was decided that Musa’s brother Ardashir be groomed to take over as king. Heralds rode throughout the land making a public proclamation. The kingdom of Pershia was able to settle into a daily routine.

Yet one day a stranger, tall and weathered sought an audience with the king and queen. His name was Harryote, a mercenary for hire, who came from the Isle of Karrah. He had learnt of the reward and after preliminary investigations knew exactly what had befallen Musa.

Musa became restless as he felt older each day. As his strength dissipated, Desiree showed less interest in him. Bored, he wandered to the perimeter of where they lived. Looking back he saw the tower shine with warmth. The stones were unrecognizable to him, as he had never seen yellow building blocks before. He marveled at the smooth uniformity of the tower as it lit up golden as the suns rays caressed the masonry. Musa stared and as he did so he remembered a different tower. He had persuaded his two frightened brothers to abseil down one of the castle towers with him. They had tied loads of sheets securely together and began the descent. A maid glimpsed them from one of the other bedrooms and called the alarm. Musa’s father had severely upbraided him.

But that was a long time ago and was probably his imagination playing tricks? He lived at the golden tower with Desiree, didn’t he? Arriving at Desiree’s tower, Harryote used his spying glass to search for Musa. There was the golden tower and if he was not mistaken a rather old looking man. He looked for the enchantress but did not see her anywhere. So leaving his horse he traversed the woods on foot. Reaching the glade he whistled like a bird to draw the man’s attention. But he did not look up as he slumped down on the ground. Swiftly Harryote ran forward before the man could respond. He swept up his light frame and ran for their lives. Desiree alerted to the escape attempt ran out to intervene.

‘How dare you take my captive, stay where you are before I blast you to pieces.’

Harryote paid no heed but kept on going. He was well out of the glade and made his way to his horse. He put Musa’s limp body on the horse and turned. The enchantress was chanting up a storm of anger, which whirled above her. Her hand poised to send the calamity towards Harryote and Musa. But before she was able to do so Harryote had taken out his sword. With powerful words of ancient prayer he struck out first.

‘Lord Yachid I call to You to come in power and in the name of Your Son, our Lord and Saviour.’

The effect was devastating as his prayer counter-acted Desiree’s intent. With a shriek the enchantresses’ spell backfired. Despite a valiant attempt to regain the upper hand she was shredded and dissipated in a leap of green flame. At the moment of her demise Musa uttered a sigh of relief. It was the first sound Harryote heard him speak. Looking Musa in the face he said, ‘My friend you are free from the enchantress and her draining spells. Lets get you back where you belong.’ Saying this Harryote mounted his steed and helped Musa to rise into a sitting position. The journey home was uneventful. Musa was curious as to what happened to him and who the stranger was?

‘How long have I been the captive of the enchantress?’

‘It has been several years since you succumbed to her. And it has taken its toll on your wellbeing.’

Musa wanted to ask more but found a heavy weariness overcome him. He slept until they stopped for a rest. He heard nearby water and wearily went to get a drink. He was shocked when he bent down to assuage his thirst. Startled by the reflection of an old man he shrank back in fear. Who was it that was staring back at him in the water? After a few minutes hesitation he bent over the water again. There again was the face of the old man staring intently back at him. He raised his hand to his face and felt sagging skin. Shocked he came to the realisation that he was the old man. Tears coursed down his wrinkled face and a sob escaped, as he owned the image as his. Harryote observed the prince as he came to the realisation of what had happened to him.

‘Prince Musa, I am sorry for your loss of youth. I understand from the pictures I saw that you were a young man. We will rest for a while and let you regain some strength for the rest of the journey.’

Musa barely heard his words as turning from the stream he fell and slept a deep sleep. Musa dreamt of Desiree and he began to put together all that had happened to him. The loathsome enchantress had tricked him with her beauty and stolen his youth for herself. He was now a pathetic old man. What point was there in living, as he looked older than his father? How could he be ruler now? He turned to Harryote who was busy roasting a rabbit he had caught. The aroma of the cooking meat caused Musa’s stomache to rumble. Disregarding his hunger he rose in despair and he cried out.

‘Kill me now and show me mercy for I am not fit to live.’

Giving the rabbit a final basting, Harryote rose and walked over to Musa.

‘My friend, I did not risk my life so that you should die. Rather I came so that you could live. Get down on your knees my prince and pray with me to Lord Yachid.’

‘What would Lord Yachid have to do with a wretch like me?’

‘Pray from your heart to him and find out.’

At this point Musa having no other options dropped down on his knees alongside Harryote. They prayed silently and after some time Musa felt such love flood into his heart that he cried out. Harryote continued to pray aloud.

‘Kind and merciful God, Musa and I thank You for hearing our prayer. My Lord fill Musa with new strength and vigour. Enable him to walk tall and strong. Then he will be able to thank You and glorify Your Holy name. This I pray in the name of Jesu, Your Son and our Saviour.’

Musa felt another surge of love that enveloped him making him feel safe. Without realising it words of gratitude began to pour out of his mouth.

‘Thank you for using Harryote to save me from certain death and making Your presence known in my heart. I submit myself humbly to You Lord Yachid and will do all in my power to extol Your greatness within the kingdom. I believe in the saving power of Your Son Jesu and bow down as Your servant. Continue to strengthen me and show me Your will that I may glorify You always, Amen.’

Musa got up and with help from Harryote they both mounted and began their journey to Assyrius the capitol. Musa was going home and he felt joy in his heart at the prospect of seeing his parents. Great was the joy of Musa’s family when they were reunited. His mother Amestris could not stop touching him and embracing him. She was ecstatic as was his father and siblings but Ardashir was not so pleased. Boran called for a feast and the palace became frantically busy. Travelling the length and breath of Pershian, the royal heralds made a proclamation. They called out the good news of Musa’s safe return. King Boran is to celebrate the return of his son and will give a gift of wine and cheese for each family. Musa had been worried that they would not recognise him but he needn’t of worried. With tears of happiness and laughter all bade him welcome. The day of the feast was a resounding success. There was many sore heads the next day after the merrymaking.

With good care Musa slowly recovered his vitality and he wasted no time in telling the story of his rescue. King Boran made it compulsory that all take the seventh day off from labour. On this day they would honour Lord Yachid for his son’s deliverance. After Musa had gained his full health he became a priest of Lord Yachid. The angel of Lord Yachid confirmed this to Musa a week after his return home. Musa sought an audience with his father the King and the court of Pershian. Prince Ardashir would succeed King Boran as King. The people of Pershian converted to worshiping Lord Yachid. They set aside their false idols. And Lord Yachid blessed them for their faithfulness with peace and prosperity. Musa was a good leader in all matters spiritual. He lived to glorify Lord Yachid all the remaining days of his life.