Hey everyone!

This week contains the moment we’ve all been waiting for. The epic case between Hugh and the Black Duke! The stage is set. The actors are in place…

A noble King sits upon a royal throne while his advisor and friend, the Black Duke, sits to his left. Court has gathered for the day and everyone patiently awaits the next case. The curtain rises as Hugh and the villagers enter the scene.

Our hero looks very out of place in the grand palace, with his calloused hands, ragged clothes, and dirty face. He boldly steps forward, with humility and determination in his gaze. Curiosity intermingled with disgust ripples through the crowd. From beside the king, a thin, pompous-looking man pulls out a parchment.

“A case of Dame Martha of the province of the Black Duke and the king’s judgment for the breaking of the king’s laws.”

The black duke steps forward, infuriated.

“Am I to understand that these peasants are bringing a case before you that charges me?!”

“We shall hear their case,” replies the king.

I cannot imagine the pressure and stress that Hugh must have been under. Yet as he steps forward, his voice rings out clear and confident. He presents his case, simply. He does not accuse the duke, rather, graciously speaks of the ignorance that all royalty faces of the reality outside their own. An ignorance he knew well as a youth!

One of the things I love about Sir Malcolm and the Missing Prince is that the story is framed. In the beginning of the story, we find a court case between a peasant and royalty. At the end of the story, we find another court case between peasants and royalty. Our young hero was present for both instances. What is framed in the middle? Hugh’s miraculous transformation. Let’s take a look.

In the first, Hugh was invited by his father the king to judge a case between a court noble and a humble tailor. As a foolish youth, Hugh showed favoritism toward the rich, resulting in great loss for the humble tailor. “What are the villagers for but to serve those who live at the palace?” he said, with a wave of his hand.

Now, many years later, the tables have turned as Hugh, now poor, is hoping for justice against the rich duke. Such a risk sounds reminiscent of Job 13:15,

Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him. Even so, I will defend my own ways before Him.

With the stakes being extremely high and the future uncertain, Hugh clings to the knowledge that his father is a just and honest judge. It is this faith that propels him forward. It is the same faith that we must have with our King.

Hugh does not ask to be paid for what he has lost. Hugh does not even ask to be compensated for the journey back. Money could not comfort the ailing children, soothe aching hearts, or prevent tears that had already been shed. Hugh asked only that they might live as they did before the duke’s edict. Dame Martha affirms Hugh’s words and says, simply, “God led me on this journey. He will guide me home.”

“I am sorry for your suffering,” the king replies, in a voice filled with emotion, “yet our law demands that an accusation against royal blood must be confirmed by the word of a nobleman.”

In the blink of an eye, Sir Malcolm rises, “I can confirm, Majesty!”

Stepping up to Dame Martha, he quietly inquires after the lad. “Has the young man completed his schooling?”

“He was given to me a child. He now returns worthy to be a king,” she says. Dame Martha’s warm smile gives all the assurance Sir Malcolm needs. In a moment of staggering surprise, he turns to the court and introduces Dame Martha as his mother. The king rises, aghast, for that could only mean one thing.

“My….my son!” he gasps.

Before Hugh can speak another word, he is wrapped up in his father’s embrace. Tears stream from the eyes of both king and prince. The beautiful conclusion to Hugh’s story is much like that of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32,

And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.

I’m sure Hugh and the prodigal son could have related to each other in many ways, especially in Hugh’s response: “Father…your love for me was too great to understand. In gratitude I give you the love of that boy for whom you did so much. But I am not worthy of that love. I am not even worthy to be called your son.”

“But you are my son,” the king says, with tear-stained cheeks. And they began to celebrate.

I cannot think of a better way to conclude this series. However, true to all of our Lamplighter stories, you can be sure that the best is yet to come!

Till next week,

Molly Mayo

Writer/Editor

(And long-term enthusiast of Sir Malcolm and the Missing Prince)