Storytelling Week 11: Balaam's Bargain

Eyes peered out from behind the tapestry at the chaotic scene in the great hall. Distraught servants sprinted back and forth from the kitchen with dish after dish for the implacable King. No amount of food could assuage his hunger. It was working.

"Balaam, you are brilliant," whispered the watcher.

Three years later

Pichan burst into the tavern and demanded a stiff drink.

“What is it that ails you, my lord?” asked Mac from the bar.

Pichan turned to the impoverished scholar with a sorrowful look. “King Cathar is coming.”

Mac quickly smothered the smile growing up on his face. “And why is that a problem?” he asked.

“It's not that Cathar is not a great king but winter is soon upon us and hosting his retinue is no small burden. But alas even this is not the cause of my sorrow. A great demon has possessed the king. No feast can sate to him and his inhuman appetite will surely ruin our province.”

“Surely it cannot be all that bad” said Mac.

“If you only knew,” replied Pichan. “For breakfast eats three threshers of bacon, two bushels of oats and the milk from a dozen cows. But even this does not satisfy him. How can I possibly hope to feast this man for a fortnight? We will all starve this winter,” he wailed placing his head in his hands.

Mac used his last coins to pay his tab and left the tavern, thoughts swirling in his head. The time to change his fortunes had finally arrived.

That evening Mac dressed in his finest clothing, though he was still a pitiful sight, and traveled to the local lord’s holding to wait for the King’s arrival.

Without so much as a by your leave, King Cathar burst into the hall and fell upon the well-appointed table of food.

Mac's eyes widened as he watched the King devour a dozen apples, four whole pheasants, a roast boar, and three boats of gravy in the time it took for him to reach the table. Prepared as he was, the gluttony surprised Mac.

“You've outdone yourself,” he whispered.

“What's that?” growled the King, mouth still full of roasted meat.

“Oh nothing,” stammered Mac, as he took a seat at the long table and pulled a smooth, round stone from his pocket. Mac raised the sharpening stone to his mouth and gingerly began to gnaw upon it.

“What the devil are you doing,” asked the King.

“It seems a shame for you to eat alone,” said Mac.

Embarrassed the King grunted and tossed him some apples while continuing to gorge.

“Who are you?” asked the king between giant bites of venison.

“My name is MacConglinney, your Majesty, and I am but a poor scholar. Thank you for your generosity, my King. How may I repay your kindness?”

Cathar grunted dismissively. “There is nothing you can do, scholar. For three years I have been plagued by this terrible hunger! No physician can heal me.” After this brief pause in eating the King redoubled his efforts and quickly downed four pitchers of cream and six shepherd’s pies. 

“If you would but let me try, my King!” pleaded Mac.

“What would you have me do?” asked the King.

“Fast with me this night,” said Mac.

An agonized look crossed the King’s face but he agreed to Mac’s treatment, desperate for a cure.

The next morning Mac called for an elaborate breakfast of the richest foods. He then ordered that the King be restrained for the duration of the treatment. The King, lashed securely, looked on as Mac began to prepare his own meal.  Fresh biscuits slathered in butter and drenched with honey, juicy sausages dripping with fat, juicy fruits at the peak of their ripeness; all this and more Mac had ordered. Sitting before the King, Mac began to speak.

“Last night I had a dream, nay a vision,” intoned Mac as he passed a juicy sausage in front of the King for eating it himself. “So delicious,” sighed Mac.

The King roared in anger and demanded to be freed, but the guards looked on trusting in the scholar.

“Be patient, my King,” said Mac smugly as he bit into a warm, flaky biscuit.

“Now in this dream, I was plagued by hunger and all around me I saw the most sumptuous foods.  Mountains of mashed potatoes with rivers of gravy surrounded me, but I could not eat. Devastated I quested out for a wise hermit that lived in the land. His abode was on an island, nestled in a lake of cream. Fruit trees bearing cobblers and pies covered the island and fresh bread sprouted from the fields. Honey fell from the sky like rain and bacon graced every table.”

By now the King’s mouth was flooded with saliva and struggled against his bounds. Mac passed a spoon of custard past the King’s mouth before eating it himself and the King roared in anger. Inside the King’s mouth, Mac saw glittering green eyes narrowed at him.

With a smirk, Mac continued his story, tormenting the King and the demon inside him. Finally the demon, Balaam, could stand it no more and leapt from the King’s mouth to snatch the bacon from Mac’s hand.

“Quickly, grab him!” shouted Mac but he knew the guards would be to slow.

Balaam fled through an open window with a sly wink at Mac.

“To your King!” commanded Mac to the guards who attempted to pursue the demon. “He must be tended immediately. Untie him and bring him to a soft bed for rest. When he wakes he will be cured.”

The next morning the King called for Mac. “Thank you Mac. Your wisdom has saved your country and your King.  How can I ever repay you?”

From that day forward, Mac was a wealthy man. He became a member of the royal household and was always at the King’s right hand. But what few knew, was that at Mac’s right hand, hidden beneath the table, was Balaam. For every bite that Mac carved for the King, a portion went to Balaam for his role in Mac’s reversal of fortune.

(Balaam's view, Source: Flickr)

Author’s Note: I really enjoyed MacConglinney’s story but I wanted to put a spin on it. You can read the original version of the story, The Vision of MacConglinney, here. In my story, Mac and the demon made a bargain and set out to fool the King.  The demon possessed the King and filled him with insatiable hunger. Later Mac would come to the rescue and drive the demon from the King. In return, Mac would be granted wealth and a comfortable life and the demon would forever have a place at Mac’s table. I chose to name the demon Balaam after an ancient demon of greed. You can can check out this list of demons I found demonicpedia. I hope you enjoyed my story and the food porn!

Bibliography

This story is part of the Celtic Fairy Tales (2) unit. Story source: More Celtic Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John D. Batten (1895).