They arrived at the house where The King was staying, and Shapur (as we must now call him) promptly collapsed from fatigue, starvation, and exhaustion. He had pushed his body past its limits, and now the body was calling in the debt. Gentle hands carried him to a soft bed and placed soft covers over him, but he didn’t feel it. It was a pity that his first experience in a real bed was marred by another experience of unconsciousness.
The King turned to one of the members of his entourage, “Jolen, would you stay with him for a while; make sure he is ok. I have another meeting to attend, but I will take over afterward.”
Jolen nodded, and The King left the room. Shapur slept fitfully, tormented by strange dreams and his own fevered, aching body. The King and other members of his entourage took it in turns to watch over the boy. Some were concerned he wouldn’t make it, but The King always knew what to do and never seemed worried. Shapur woke occasionally, still delirious, but they were able to get him to eat and drink a little during these times.
After a few days of this, it was time for The King to return to his own land. His business was concluded, and it was time to go home. Shapur was placed in The King’s own carriage and was well-cushioned to prevent him from being bounced around. They traveled slowly at first, in order not to stress Shapur’s already weakened condition, but, as they traveled further and further away from that city he had called home for so many miserable years, Shapur got better and better.
About two weeks into the journey, Shapur finally became aware of his surroundings. He woke up as he occasionally did, but this time, instead of staring glassily into the distance, his eyes were focused and glanced around at his surroundings. He was understandably disoriented. Clean blankets and soft cushions were not what he was used to waking to, and they made it even more difficult to get his bearings. Finally, memory returned and understanding filled his eyes. He began to look around the carriage with renewed interest, taking in the glowing wood, glass windows, and polished brass fixtures. Eventually, his eyes settled on The King waiting nervously for a sign of what to do.
The King gave him a quiet smile. “Welcome back.”
He momentarily watched the child struggle to find an appropriate response before opening a basket and pulling out a kind of fruit unknown to Shapur.
“This should be just the thing for you right now,” said The King as he cut a slice. “This gives you a bit of energy and gets the brain moving again. If you do well with this, I have a loaf of bread and some cheese in here for you.”
Shapur took the slice of fruit and ate it. He had not felt hungry until the juice filled his mouth, and then, he was suddenly ravenous. After several slices of the fruit were consumed, The King gave him some bread followed by a few bites of cheese and the rest of the fruit. All of this was washed down with a cool drink made from fruit juice.
The King was pleased. “If you keep eating like that, you will regain your strength in no time. I imagine you are curious about what is happening.”
Shapur nodded, still uncertain about speaking.
“You have been delirious for almost three weeks, and I have been helping you get better. Two weeks ago, we left the city you lived in, and have been traveling since then. As soon as you are feeling strong enough, you can sit up and see the sights as we go along.”
Shapur felt queasy thinking of being helpless for three weeks. He was grateful to be alive and full, but his survival instinct immediately found an anxious question.
“Where are we going?”
“Home,” The King said with a smile that brightened the entire carriage. “We are going home.”