He prepares twenty-one altars, three for every meeting he has. But he’s a prophet, so even if the king tells him to put a curse on his enemies, he’s not a magician. He can’t cast spells with his words; instead, he pulls out the blessing or curse that’s inherently found in the history of a nation and puts it into words for others to understand, even if they refuse to listen.
He has eyes to see and a mouth for words that don’t belong to him and a language that’s been given for him to use, and still he can’t explain himself to some people. It’s as if this king who’s trying to get him to curse can’t understand the concept of a blessing, because he believes that blessings and curses can be controlled by humans.
Perhaps he’s been a king for too long, so he allows the king to be the donkey. He knows what it’s like to be that stubborn, and now, as he receives and delivers a total of seven messages, he in turn becomes the donkey that speaks, and warns the king of the curse that lies underneath the saddle he sits on.