The Castle of Palveral is built on a narrow peninsula where it faces both land and sea. Out one window, the king can gaze at fields as they disappear on the horizon and think of all the towns that pay him tribute. From another window, the king can look over the many ships docked in the harbor that carry cargo to and from the islands in the king's possession.

But the day has come when the king's face is no longer seen at the castle windows. Within the castle, the courtiers and the king's sons walk quietly, their eyes averted from each other. Around every corner, voices are whispering. The King has been ill for years. Now the king is dying.

One morning, loud, quick footsteps interrupted the silence. A loud knock rang out on a heavy wooden door. A gruff voice replied. When the door was opened, a herald entered. A heavy- set man inside the room put down the sword he was sharpening.

"His Majesty the King, your father, requests your presence at his bedside in one hour."

Gordenal, oldest son of the king, heaved a sigh.

"It's about time he decided to give the kingdom to the strongest of his sons," said Gordenal. "I shall be there."

The herald did not stay to speak further. There were other rooms he needed to visit without delay. Up another floor, the herald's knock on the door interrupted the flow of music coming from within and then a mellow voice bade him enter.

"His Majesty the King, your father, requests your presence at his bedside in one hour, announced the herald"

Ensmeral held his harp lightly and played a few chords on his harp.

"It is about time my father received the inspiration to bequeath the kingdom to the most inspired of his sons," sang the young man.

The herald did not remain to hear the new song out. There were more stairs to climb before he could reach a room built on the castle's roof. The wind was blowing in from the sea and not until he had knocked for the third time did he hear a voice bid him enter.

Hermanal turned away from the telescope he had built and faced the herald as he announced the message: "His Majesty the King, your father, requests your presence at his bedside in one hour."

"So the King, my father, will now announce to all that the most far-sighted of his sons will be the next king," said the young man.

By the time he had finished saying those words, he had buried his face in his telescope once more.

There was no time for the herald to look through the glass for himself. He now had to climb back down all the stairs of the castle and then knock on the door of a room deep enough to be a dungeon, but Manderal lived there by choice. So dark was the room that the herald could hardly see the young man as he proclaimed his message: "His Majesty the king, your father, requests your presence at his bedside in one hour."

"So the king, my father, has chosen to bestow the kingdom on the son who has plunged the depths of human thought," said Manderal, his face cloaked in darkness.

The herald had no time to reply. There were stairs to climb and questions to ask. With only one son more to inform, his work was just beginning. As usual and as expected, the last son did not reply to a knock on his door. After the fifth knock, the herald opened the door, but found the room empty. He asked all the courtiers he passed if they had seen the youth, but they had not. The herald tried all the usual ways of tracking down Jameral, the wayward son. He covered much ground inside the castle and even more ground outside of it, but all to no avail. The old men in the fishing boats thought Jameral was playing on the shore with the children. The children thought their sometime playmate was gossiping with the old men in the fishing boats.

The clock in the castle's tower struck the hour. The four older sons stood about their father's deathbed. The room shook from the chime's vibration. Other courtiers clustered around the brothers, having been summoned as witnesses. The queen, her face pale, sat close to the bed. The king lay in bed, his eyes closed. If the blanket covering his chest did not rise and fall ever so slightly with the old man's breathing, one would have thought the king was dead already.

"Are all my sons here?" asked the king, his eyes still closed.

"All but the youngest, your majesty," answered the herald.

"To the last, he is the same," said the king. "I cannot wait. The time is short. Listen, all of you."

The eyes of the four sons brightened with expectation. Every breath stopped when the king opened his mouth once again.

"I have had a dream. I dreamed of a pearl. The son of mine who finds the pearl will be the next king."

There was a stirring among the sons as they waited for more.

"The pearl is within and without," the king continued. "It is small enough to carry, and large enough to surround the entire kingdom. The pearl is made of the fire in the sky, the fire in the earth, and the fire under the sea. The fire is formed by human hands and sung by the human voice. That is the pearl of my dream. By this time tomorrow, the pearl will have been found. Go, and see to it that my dream's prophecy is fulfilled."

The brothers and the courtiers waited for more, but the king did not open his mouth again. Quietly, the four sons and the courtiers withdrew from the king's chamber. Each son knew where to look for the pearl.

Not until the day was half over did the herald run into Jameral. As usual, the youth was doing nothing, unless staring out the window constituted doing something.

"I have a message for you," said the herald, "but it is too late for you to act upon it."

"Nothing is too late in the end," said Jameral, his eyes still fixed on empty space.

"The message is that you were to have reported to your father's room several hours ago," said the herald, his patience at the breaking point.

"Then I must go back in time!" exclaimed the youth. And he ran off as fast as an arrow shot from a bow, leaving the herald to shake his head in despair.

The court physician answered the rapid knock on the king's door. When he saw Jameral, he made a face that made him look as if he had taken some of the medicine brewed for the king.

"For what purpose do you come here to disturb the king on his death bed?" asked the doctor.

"I have just learned that the king wished to see me," Jameral replied.

"You and your brothers were asked to report this morning. It is too late to visit your father as his energy for the day is exhausted," said the old man, obviously satisfied with each word he could throw out at the youth. "He needs to regain his strength for tomorrow. That is when he will say which son has brought him the Pearl that will earn him the kingdom."

"What pearl?" asked Jameral.

"The Pearl your father dreamed of. If you wish to know more," the physician added with a dry smile, "ask your brothers."

"That I will," said the youth, off and running already.

Jameral found that his oldest brother, Gordenal, had moved a forge into his room, and he was beating on a small, shiny stone with a sledge hammer.

"Is that your way of looking for the pearl?" asked the younger brother.

"There is no place to look," Gordenal replied, "the pearl is to be made, not found. Our father said that the pearl would be formed by human hands."

Gordenal brought the hammer down on the small stone once more.

"Did he say you needed a hammer?" asked Jameral.

Gordenal pounded the stone once again and turned around angrily.

"The hammer is wielded by human hands!" cried Gordenal. "Hey! you'll burn yourself!"

But nothing happened to Jameral as he picked up the shiny stone and turned it over in his hands.

"Looks like a jewel, but not like a pearl," Jameral remarked. "Did Father say it had to be a pearl?"

"Yes."

"You need clay to make a pearl."

"That's it! Why didn't I think of that?" cried Gordenal, his eyes shining. "I'll get some clay and pound that into the stone. That will make it a real pearl. Then, I shall shape the pearl with my hands until it fits into the hilt of my sword. The pearl in the sword! Just think of it! Tomorrow, I shall be king!"

Gordenal called for a servant and demanded a handful of some clay, on the double. Jameral knew it was time to consult another brother about the pearl.

"Do you need this any more?" Jameral asked, holding up the discarded stone.

Of course not," Gordenal replied as he blew on the fire with the bellows. "You've given the game away, my foolish friend. Who needs that stone now?"

Jameral tossed the small stone in his hand and moved on.

He knew Ensmeral's room by the sound of the harp. He entered, the better to listen while Ensmeral played and sang.

"What fair or foul wind over the sea brings you here to my chamber?" sang the poet.

"I hear that our father, the king, has asked each of us to find the Pearl he dreamed of."

"And my song is journeying into that dream to bring the pearl into the life we live."

Jameral listened intently as his brother sang the most beautiful song he had ever composed. It was filled with the bitter-sweet yearning for something beyond the reach of human hands. Jameral felt his own heart breaking as he listened, and tears came to his eyes. One of the tears dropped to the floor and bounced up into Ensmeral's hand. The playing stopped as Ensmeral studied the now solid, but delicate tear.

"I have drawn the pearl out of song as my father asked!" sang Ensmeral. "This is the pearl drawn out of the human voice! Tomorrow, I shall be King!"

Jameral scratched his head.

"But isn't the pearl to be made by human hands?" he asked.

"Of course, it is," Ensmeral replied. "Have not the hands that play the harp helped to make it?"

Jameral shrugged his shoulders. It was time to consult another brother.

He climbed to the top of the castle where he greeted the wind. Without knocking on the door, Jameral entered. It was no surprise for him to see Hermanal staring into the telescope.

"I hear our father, the king, has asked us to present a pearl to him," said Jameral.

"He asked us to find it," Hermanal replied.

"I see. And is this pearl to be found in the sky?"

"The pearl we seek is made of the fire of the sky, so where else should I look?"

"Must be a star," suggested Jameral.

Hermanal grunted.

"You're pretty sharp for a fool who plays all the time," said Hermanal.

Jameral began to hum snatches of the son Ensmeral had sung. Suddenly Hermanal interrupted him with a loud cry.

"What is it?" asked Jameral.

"I have found the pearl in the sky! Look!"

Sure enough, when he looked into the telescope, Jameral saw what appeared to be a bright pearl in the sky. It did not twinkle like a star. Instead, it let off a cool, steady glow, as if it were indeed a pearl.

"I see," said Jameral. "Now, all you need do is go and get it."

The smile faded from Hermanal's face.

"But that can't be done. I have found the pearl. I will have our father, the king, look in the glass and see it for himself."

Jameral tossed the small, shiny stone he had taken from Gordenal's room to his brother. Suddenly a small flame leaped out of the telescope and covered the stone. Next thing the two brothers knew, the stone had turned into a pearl.

"I've done it!" cried Hermanal. "I have drawn the pearl from the skies, the fire in the sky! Tomorrow, I shall be king!"

Jameral shrugged his shoulders and left his brother's room on the castle's roof. He climbed down the stairs to visit one more brother. On the way, he picked up a torch and lit it.

As usual, Manderal's room was dark and silent. Jameral called out to him, but there was no answer. He thrust the torch's light into each corner, but there was still no Manderal. What Jameral did find was a hole in the floor. Wasting no time, Jameral climbed down the hole until he reached a shallow underground river. There was Manderal, reaching into the water with his fingers.

"Manderal, what are you doing?"

"I am looking for the pearl that our father, the king, dreamed of," replied Manderal.

Manderal reached after one shadow in the dark, and then another, but he came up empty.

"Do you really think that the fire in the sky is here?" asked Jameral.

"The pearl is made from the earth under the sea," said Manderal.

"Oh," Jameral replied. "I didn't know that part of it."

With the help of Jameral's torch, Manderal continued to search the water until he found a small oyster shell. With trembling fingers, the young man pried open the shell until a small, bright, pearl shone in the light.

"I have found it!" cried Manderal. "I have found it!"

"But is it made of human hands?" asked Jameral.

"My hands have plucked it out of the earth of the sea," Manderal boasted. "What more could my father want? Tomorrow I shall be king!"

Shrugging his shoulders, Jameral climbed back up the hole to Manderal's room. He said nothing, but he wondered what his father was going to do with four pearls.

The next morning, the appointed courtiers were gathered about the king's bed. The king lay motionless, his eyes closed, while everyone waited in hushed expectation.

"Are my sons gathered here?" the King finally asked, without opening his eyes.

"Four of them are, your majesty," replied the herald.

The king sighed deeply. He had no need to ask which son was missing, neither did he need to open his eyes to look.

"Maybe he needs a little more time to search the little space between his ears," suggested one of the courtiers.

A few smiles flickered about the room, but the occasion was too solemn for anyone to laugh out loud. The King opened his eyes and looked at the confident faces of his four sons. Gordenal was wearing his sword, Ensmeral was holding his harp. Hermanal and Manderal stood erect with hands behind their backs, itching to show what they were hiding.

"Which of you has the pearl?" asked the King.

"I DO!" the four young men chorused, but their voices choked as four pearls were whipped into sight, with Gordenal's mounted on the hilt of his sword.

"There are four kings!" the herald gasped.

"In my dream," wheezed the king, "there was one pearl."

"And I am the one who has it," said Gordenal. "With the pearl on my sword that I forged myself, I shall conquer all our enemies."

Ensmeral struck a few chords on his harp.

"The pearl born of song is the Pearl of Truth," sang the young man.

"See the sky's fire burning in the pearl I brought," said Hermanal. "This must be the true Pearl."

"We know that it is oysters who make pearls in the water's deep with the earth of the sea," insisted Manderal. "Pearls are not made with human hands or human voices, neither are they found in the sky."

"The pearl of my dream - was different," said the King. Then he closed his eyes.

The four brothers stared at each other with wary eyes, each trying to decide who should be the first to attack whom. The sound of footsteps interrupted the silence. There was a shuffling of feet and a soft knock on the door. Everybody knew who it was before the herald opened it. Jameral tripped into the room, then fought to regain his balance. He was holding a tiny shell in his hand. Jameral placed the shell at the foot of the King's bed. The King opened his eyes long enough to see what had happened. He registered no interest in Jameral's arrival before closing his eyes again.

"You are late for the most important occasion in the Kingdom's history," the herald reprimanded the youth.

"I was on time to pull a shell out of the receding tide," Jameral explained. "Here, take a look at it. Isn't this the prettiest shell you ever saw?"

The foreheads of the four older brothers knit with concern for a moment, then they all relaxed when they saw that the shell, pretty as it was with many colors flowing on its smooth surface, was not a pearl, and did not contain one.

"The pearl?" asked the herald.

Jameral shrugged.

"Why make it five pearls and five kings when four are too many?"

"You dreamer-into-space," growled Manderal. "Then you know what my faithless brothers had done?"

Jameral shrugged.

"It was by the light of my torch that you found yours, and you didn't give me any credit for it."

All four brothers shuffled with discomfort as they remembered that each had found his pearl at the time Jameral had visited him.

"Since the pearls seem to be as worthless as this shell," Jameral suggested, "why not drop all of them on the bed with my shell and see what happens?"

Four hands turned white from clutching what they held.

"Do as he says," said the feeble voice of the King. "I--dozed off--and dreamed some more."

Slowly Ensmeral, Hermanal, and Manderal unfolded their hands and let their pearls drop on the bed next to the shell. Gordenal held back.

"If you mounted it once, you can mount it again," said the herald.

Gordenal grimaced, then wrenched the pearl out of the sword's hilt with his bare hand and dropped his pearl into the pile with the others.

Everybody, except for the sleeping king, kept a sharp pair of eyes on Jameral, as the youngest son had that look in his eyes that spelled trouble. They were right about the look, but they weren't fast enough. Faster than one could blink, Jameral swiped his shell and all four pearls, tossed them into the air, and began to juggle them.

"What the - " each of the brothers cried out in turn.

But each time one of the king's sons reached out at Jameral, another would stop him.

"Don't make him drop them, you fool!" each brother reproved a brother.

The pearls and the shell flickered like little stars as they bounced in the air. Then, a halo, the color of the pearls, began to form around Jameral. The halo grew larger until it encircled the whole room. At the same time, the courtiers noticed that the shell was no more and there were only three pearls, then two, then only one. Jameral tossed the remaining pearl up into the air as if he were setting free a bird. The pearl hovered in the air above the king's face. Four pairs of eyes narrowed on the object.

"It's mine!" Gordenal cried, "can't you see the scar from where I ripped it out of the sword?"

The scar was plain for all to see.

"It is the pearl of song," sang Ensmeral, "can't you see the pearl flying to the tune of my harp?"

True to Ensmeral's words, the pearl undulated in the air to the rhythm of Ensmeral's music.

"It's mine!" cried Hermanal, "it shines with the fire of the heavens!"

And the pearl did flicker with the flame from the stars.

"It's mine!" cried Manderal. "It pulses with the mysteries of the deep."

Indeed, the pearl had the pulse of a beating heart.

While the brothers looked on, the pearl turned into a cloud of light. Then the cloud dissolved, leaving no trace of the pearl behind.

"It is--the Pearl," gasped the king, before he closed his eyes for the last time.

Gordenal, Ensmeral, Hermanal, and Manderal, stunned, looked at each other warily. Then, they all shifted their feet and focused their eyes on Jameral. Jameral not knowing if his brothers were going to kill him or make him king, bolted out of the room, leaving his brothers to brace themselves against one another and think again.

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