There is a special silence only kings know, because only kings feel the need for it and only kings seek it out. For the holy man in his desert cave, the silence is everywhere. It is sound that startles. But the king’s life is filled with noise, for the king is never alone. When he sleeps, the guards outside his door make their rounds, and servants are with him, asleep at his feet like dogs. His bath and his breakfast are ceremonial occasions. His dinner is like a parade. Even when he begets a royal heir, the multitudes await, just beyond the door, just beyond the shadows, speculating anxiously in muted voices.
These things the prophet told King Ekitares, as he paused by the Great River’s bank in the evening.
“Yes, yes, I know all that,” said the king.
“His death, too, is but the final t
