KEBAB LORD

Once, there was a great warlord. He had conquered all that lay within nine leagues of his capital, and his foes lay prostrate at his feet. But he was not content. There was something missing. He asked his advisers what he was missing.

"You must learn to practice the ways of peace!" one suggested.

The warlord considered this. "What are the ways of peace?" he asked.

"Building, and farming, and law-making, and... um... knitting?" the adviser stammered out, panicking under the weight of the great warlord's gaze.

The warlord spat, "Knitting?" and ordered the adviser sent to the slave mines, there to work for the rest of his natural life. Then he turned to his remaining advisers and asked, "What am I missing?"

Another adviser, rather more boldly, said "You must pursue the ways of war!"

The warlord considered this. "What are the ways of war?" he asked.

"You must continue your conquests - stretch your realm eighteen leagues from the capital, and twenty-seven after! Only when all the world is in your grasp should you stop your glorious march!" the adviser eagerly said.

The warlord considered this for a very long minute; and if he had taken this advice, this would be a very different story. But instead, he spat: "Fool! Saboteur! Were I to take your advice, I would lose everything I have gained! My armies would be lost in distant lands! All my territory would rise in rebellion!" He ordered this adviser sent to the far frontier, there to be sent into battle against the marauding western barbarians, known for their brutality and cannibalistic tendencies. Then he turned to his remaining advisers and asked for the third time, "What am I missing?"

Most of the advisers absented themselves at this point, possessing both a keen sense of self-preservation and an ability to spot patterns. But one remained, wearing a tall white hat. He advised the warlord, "You must pursue the ways of the kebab chef!"

The warlord considered this quizzically. "What are the ways of the kebab chef?" he asked his adviser.

"You must, using only the finest ingredients, cook the greatest kubideh kebabs known to man. Only then will your spirit find rest," the adviser explained.

The warlord thought for a moment; then nodded. "Let it be so!" And spices were brought to him; and salt; and soda; and onions, and yogurt, and meat by the pound. And, under his adviser's tutelage, the warlord constructed his kebabs, mixing meat and spice upon the steel skewers, then cooking them over great charcoal fires.


He invited his closest allies to the royal feast. The closest of those partook of his kebabs; and they said, "Lo! It is good!" But some ignored the delicacies, playing parlour-games and enjoying idle amusements in their stead.

Lo, on any other day, the warlord would have ordered these men executed for their snub to him. But not this day. On this day, he was full of kebab-meat and goodwill towards all men. Rather than killing his allies, he joined them - for at last, the KEBAB LORD's spirit had found rest.