“A runner approaches!” The cry echoed from guard tower to guard commander to portly courtiers and finally to the king’s ears.
He fell on his face before the king.
“Do you bring news of the battle?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Speak.”
Trembling with fatigue and fear, the messenger was silent.
“Speak!” the king roared. “what news?”
“Sire, all is lost. I alone escaped to tell you. The enemy approaches and will be here in less than three days.”
The king tore his clothes and cried out in terror.
“Take him away,” he commanded , “and shoot him with arrows.”
Many a cruel despot did such to the messenger of bad tiding. They forgot that the messenger is not the message.
Once, the message and the Messenger were congruent. For the first and only time there was a logic in the death: They brought evil tidings to the king of our hearts. The message declared death to the king; the Messenger carried out the sentence. Knowing this we shot Him full of arrows. And in the death of the Messenger and the death of the king life opened to us.
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