The Slave

Hussein the slave, waited patiently until the night of the great festival, when he knew that the guards would be more interested in wine and food than guarding the palace.

Watching his opportunity, Hussein clambered over the palace walls, and was gone like a shadow long before any alarm was raised. For three days he hid in a derelict old building on the outskirts of the city, only coming out at night to scavenge for food.

Then his luck deserted him. Making his way back to his hiding place, he was accosted by two of the palace guard, who pounced on him before he could escape.

The following morning, heavily shackled, Hussein was brought before the Emperor to be sentenced, and the chief minister who believed in quick justice said, “O Emperor, as an example to other slaves, this man should be taken to the public square and trampled to death by your great war elephants.”

“That sounds reasonable,” said the Emperor, and looking at poor Hussein he asked, “Have you anything to say in your defence?”

“O noble Emperor,” pleaded Hussein, falling to his knees. “If you execute me, you will forever have the blood of an innocent man on your conscience. For I committed no crime, except my desire for freedom. Now if I was to cut the throat of your chief minister, you could have me executed without any qualms.”

“You are not without wit, you rascal,” bellowed the Emperor, with a side-long glance at his chief minister, who seemed to be busy feeling his throat. “I will grant you your freedom, providing you swear to be a loyal servant of the palace, and refrain from cutting the throat of my chief minister.”