Greta and Boris

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Greta and Boris Page 5

by Sian Norris


  ‘I felt that in the mountains I had nearly completed my education. Yet I was aware that learning was a lifelong process, which each future experience would enrich.

  ‘I had come so far east that the next logical step was to travel to the land of my ancestors.’ Here she paused to smile lovingly at her grandfather. ‘Japan! I was so happy to be there. I went straight to Tokyo where I was amazed and awed by my surroundings. After the beautiful silence of the monasteries, the hustle and bustle and excitement of the city was overwhelming. I moved in with a student called Sumire who wrote stories and played lots of music on a record player. She would tell me about the books she was reading and the thoughts she had. It gave me a good insight into the human mind and to this day she is the human I look after. We have an arrangement that we both have our freedom, so that we’ll see each other when we see each other. Together we took many walks, and I enjoyed being in Japan.

  ‘But even though the call of my homeland was strong, I felt I still had more to see. So Sumire and I discussed the problem and she let me go, so long as I promised to come and visit from time to time. I traveled back west and arrived in Russia. Never have I seen a place like that! The beauty of the endless mountains, the emptiness, the trees, the feeling that you are alone in the world – nowhere was like Russia. It was a place I will always treasure in my heart.

  ‘After Russia, after all my travels and educations, I felt that I had come close to what I had hoped to achieve, to see the world and learn from what I saw. So I returned to Tokyo and to Sumire. We were overjoyed to be together again. She had started to write a new story, and we would sit on her balcony, eating rice and reading it together. Then the news of the cat-napping of Prince Boris arrived, and it was time to nuzzle her goodbye again. And here I am, with you.’

  ‘My goodness!’ said Greta. ‘You have been everywhere! And you’ve learnt so much.’

  ‘That is what makes the great warrior,’ Sam said, nodding solemnly. ‘It is not skill with the sword or pistol. It is the knowledge to avoid the fight. But dear granddaughter, your stories have lasted long enough. We have reached your destination. You are at the warring Land of Mice.’

  In which a war is fought and ended

  After the beauty of the lands and seas that Greta and Kyrie had traveled through, the Land of Mice was a terrible sight. Compared to the lushness of the busy port and the mysterious sights of Cloud-Top Land, the mice’s home was plain, dusty and bare of trees. It was a war zone, with barbed wire criss-crossing the empty landscape. Greta winced at the sight. She associated mice with the cute little animals that sometimes Boris brought in, or the pets some of her friends had kept. Not with this war-torn, destroyed land.

  ‘It’s awful’ she said.

  Sam and Kyrie nodded in sad sympathy. ‘Greta,’ Kyrie said. ‘There are some things you need to know before we set off across this land. As you can see, the war has destroyed the landscape and harmed many of the inhabitants. It is a dangerous place but with me you will be safe, I promise that.’

  ‘But what is this war? How did it start?’

  Sam rolled his eyes. ‘The same reason all wars start. Stupid debates. Petty disagreements turning to hate.’

  ‘Grandfather is right,’ said Kyrie. ‘This disastrous war started for the falsest and most dangerous of reasons. You remember how I told you that most of us here in the animal kingdom live side by side? Well, sometimes this goes wrong, sometimes animals break the trust and stop caring about living in harmony. Humans were the first, then the rats, and now the mice. It happened one day that the White mice came to the decision that they no longer liked the Brown mice. For the silliest of reasons! They decided that because they slept in beds of sawdust they were better than the Brown mice, who sleep in beds of leaves. The White mice said that sawdust was cleaner, and therefore they were the better mouse. Of course, the Brown mice got very cross about this, and a huge row between the community leaders erupted. Both sides started to tease each other, and it all started to get out of control. And then, the fighting began. The war has raged on ever since. And all because of a petty argument over who slept on the better bed.’

  Greta sat still and listened. The situation was horrible. Why did the mice hate each other for such silly reasons? And why did it have to cause such destruction?

  ‘It’s so stupid,’ she said. ‘So, the White mice decided that they were better than the Brown mice because of the beds they sleep in? And this ridiculous belief has caused all of this suffering?’

  Kyrie and Sam nodded.

  ‘Kyrie, you are a warrior! You can’t let this happen! How come no-one has done anything to try and help?’

  ‘What can you do, Greta?’ Kyrie said. ‘They won’t stop fighting, and we cannot fight mice, it’s too unfair, too uneven. They wouldn’t listen to us.’

  Greta set her face firmly. ‘We have to do something. We are going to see the army leaders. We are going to stop this.’

  Sam smiled admiringly at the young girl. ‘She has your spirit, Granddaughter,’ he said, pride in his voice. ‘You must do as she says. She has come this far, she is the one to rescue the Prince. We must support her in this fight.’

  ‘I can do it, of course I can.’ Greta breathed deeply, surprised at the force in her voice. She had no idea she had such determination, or strength. But she felt such an overwhelming certainty that this was something she could do, something she could achieve. Just as every passing minute she felt more confident that she would be able to save Boris.

  Kyrie shrugged. ‘If that is what you want, then of course we will. But for now, we must say goodbye to my grandfather.’ She turned to him, her eyes full of love and tears. ‘We’ll see you soon, won’t we?’

  ‘Pah!’ he said, laughing. ‘Soon? I will be waiting here for you and Greta when she brings our beloved and esteemed Prince Boris back home to us. Together we will sail across the sea and go on to the Kingdom of Cats. Now, you go and tell those mice to stop this war, fight those rats and save our future King!’

  Greta laughed. ‘Sam, thank you so much! We’ll see you soon.’

  Kyrie hugged her grandfather tight. ‘We will see you soon, Grandpa.’ And with that they parted, to start the journey across the Land of Mice.

  As they left Sam bobbing in his boat on the Milky Sea, Greta and Kyrie started to make their way across the war torn Land of Mice. They stumbled and tripped over the uneven, bomb-cratered land, whilst ahead of them they could hear the booming of guns and cannons, the shouts of commands and the cries of the injured.

  Greta could see that the land had once been green and lush. But now, instead of towering trees there were just stumps. Where there had been thriving and vibrant towns and communities, there were just ruins. Brown and White mice lived separately in tumble-down shelters and camps, wary and angry with one another. As they pressed on, Greta saw White mice cross the ruined streets to avoid walking near the Brown mice. She overheard a Brown mother mouse scolding her child for waving at a White mouse former friend. A lump formed in her throat as she saw firsthand what petty prejudices can do. As she took in the devastation around her, she became more and more uneasy about the task she had decided to take on. This war was dangerous and vicious. What if Kyrie was right and she could do nothing?

  ‘No,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Look what that kind of thinking did last time. Why, I nearly fell down the staircase of autumn leaves! I can do this. I just have to put my mind to it. I just have to focus on what I need to do.’

  ‘Here we are,’ Kyrie interrupted her thoughts. ‘This is the major battle field.’

  Greta looked around her. Two huge armies of White and Brown mice were facing each other. They held their guns and spears aloft; ready for the pounce. The ground they stood upon shuddered under the marching of paws, and the air rang with the squeaks and shrieks of their battle cries.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Kyrie asked in a low voice.

  Greta took a deep breath, braced herself, and nodded slowly. ‘Yes
. This is something I really believe in.’

  ‘Okay. Well, I’m going to get their attention. It’s going to be loud, so get ready!’

  ‘MMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAA AAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW’ Kyrie screeched, her voice breaking over the sounds of war and weapons. At the sound, a silence fell over the field as every beady pair of mouse eyes turned in their direction. Greta’s heart was in her mouth. She realized she had never been so afraid in her life.

  Kyrie spoke first. ‘I am Miu Sumire Kyrie Mi-ke, a warrior of the Kingdom of Cats and ambassador of the King Marmaduke Nikolai Whiskers Blue, he who is ruler of the Kingdom of Cats, Terror of Mice, Menace of Birds and Nemesis of Hounds, Surveyor of the Peace, Emperor of the Feline Race and Lord of the surrounding lands. This is the girl-child Greta, protector of the Prince Marmaduke Nikolai Boris Blue. We would like to speak with the leaders of the White and Brown mice.’

  The leader of the White Mice and the leader of the Brown Mice both stepped forward.

  ‘I am Snowy, Ruler of the White Mice of the sawdust beds. I accept the request for audience, however I will not speak to my foe, that leader of my enemy army.’

  When he had finished, the leader of the Brown Mice stepped forward.

  ‘And I am Riverbank, commander of the Brown Mice of the leafy beds. I too accept the request for audience however I will not speak to my foe, that commander of my enemy army.’

  ‘We thank you,’ Kyrie nodded gratefully with grace. She looked to Greta, who realized this was her cue to start.

  ‘I,’ she began. Her voice sounded small and young next to the powerful cry of Kyrie. ‘I wanted to speak to you. I wanted to ask you why you are fighting.’

  ‘Because we are the superior mice!’ replied Snowy, his voice rising in anger. ‘We sleep on clean beds of sawdust, not on muddy leaves. We are the better mice!’

  ‘Rubbish!’ shouted back Riverbank. ‘Leafy beds are clean and soft, and far nicer and cozier than your scratchy sawdust! You just think you are better than us!’

  ‘Is this true?’ Greta asked Snowy. ‘Did you attack the Brown mice because you think you are better than they are? Simply because of how they build their beds?’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Snowy. ‘And right we are.’

  ‘That’s very interesting,’ said Greta.

  ‘It is not interesting!’ said Riverbank. ‘It is a war! It is a disgrace!’

  ‘Oh no, I agree, I really do,’ said Greta. ‘It is just interesting that Snowy believes that White mice are better due to the materials they use to build their beds, and chose to tease you about it. And it’s interesting that you have used fighting and violence to try and disprove his claim.’

  The mice looked at each other, confused. Greta knew then that she had them.

  ‘You see, a lot of people tease me because they think I’m different to them,’ she continued.

  ‘But you seem so nice!’ Snowy and Riverbank interrupted her. It was the first time they had both spoken together and agreed with one another for five long years. They gave each other a scowl. But, Kyrie thought, that was the first step…

  ‘Well, it is kind of you to say so,’ said Greta, pleased to see her plan was working. ‘However, there are some people who disagree. Now, the girls in my school, they laughed at my hair and teased me. They refused to be my friend. They told me my clothes were strange, and that I had weird parents. They wouldn’t speak to me.’

  ‘Because they didn’t like your hair?’ they asked. Again, they glared at each other as they heard their voices speak in unison.

  ‘That’s right. They looked at me, and decided that they didn’t like what they saw.’

  ‘Before they even spoke to you?’ they both asked.

  ‘Before they even spoke to me. They decided that because of the way I looked, they didn’t want to be my friends, and chose instead to be nasty.’ She paused. ‘It’s called bullying.’

  ‘Ridiculous,’ they said, both shaking their heads.

  ‘Oh it is, it is. And it’s horrible. I walk through the halls at my school and they throw things at me. They call me names and laugh at me. But they have never spoken to me, they’ve never tried to get to know me. They just decided they didn’t like me because they didn’t like my hair.’

  As Greta spoke, feelings of guilt and remorse started to spread across the armies of White and Brown mice. They began to think that maybe, just maybe, they were doing to each other what the bullies had been doing to Greta.

  ‘And it isn’t just bullies being mean to me at school.’ She searched her memory for what she’d been taught in history lessons. ‘In the human world, men and women were put in prison and badly hurt, because one group of people didn’t like their skin color, or the country they came from, or their religion. Without even trying to talk to them first.’

  She stopped here, and let her words sink in. The mice were listening and thinking in silence, as they stood on the dusty battlefield.

  ‘Why are you telling us this?’ Snowy asked, in a very, very small voice.

  ‘I just thought you might be interested,’ she replied.

  The silence continued.

  ‘White Mouse Snowy,’ Riverbank said, his voice surprisingly strong and steady considering it was the first time he had spoken to a White mouse in five years. ‘I believe I understand what Greta is saying. She is trying to show us that we are wrong to fight.’

  ‘Brown Mouse Riverbank,’ Snowy replied. ‘I too believe this is what the human child says. For many years we have been at war for no reason beyond a difference of how we make our beds.’

  ‘Now is not the time to place blame, but we Brown mice believe that it was the White mice that attacked us first and mocked us for our leafy beds. But we are not free from guilt. We fought and argued back in a way that was harmful.’

  ‘I agree that we acted in an aggressive manner for the pettiest of reasons. Perhaps it is now the time to recognize the dangerous mistakes of our past actions, and move forward as a united species of mice.’

  ‘Move forward united,’ echoed Riverbank. ‘Greta has shown us that judging one another can cause nothing but grief. Our argument has destroyed this once green and pleasant land. But together, we can move on from this long and painful battle.’

  ‘Then united we will be,’ Snowy said. Tentatively, slowly and a little nervously, the two war leaders held out their front paws for the other to take.

  As their paws touched, the armies surrounding them threw down their weapons in a unanimous display of peace and joy. They boldly walked across the battlefield to embrace the mice that an hour earlier had been their enemy. Friends forced apart by the vicious war met and hugged one another for the first time in five years. Mice that had never spoken to a mouse with different color fur kissed each other ’s cheeks. Greta clapped her hands in delight and smiled broadly as the now united land of mice held each other ’s hands and turned to bow to her. Kyrie purred with pride and happiness at the young girl’s achievements.

  ‘You see Greta,’ she said, laughing. ‘You are strong, you are brave! You have stopped one of the longest-running wars of the animal kingdom! You have achieved more in this one day than many warriors achieve in their lifetimes. And yet, a small while back, you told me you weren’t brave enough for this adventure. But look at you now!’

  Greta smiled back, happy to have succeeded in putting an end to a war that had caused nothing but sadness.

  The parties and celebrations quickly spread across the Land of Mice, as news of the peace spread. The largest was held at the center of the country, as Snowy and Riverbank walked hand in hand into the palace that had stood empty for the five long years of the war. Now it was decided to be shared between the Brown and White mice. To celebrate the unification of the land, Snowy and Riverbank called for a huge banquet to honor their country’s newest hero, Greta. A great feast was cooked of dandelion and daisy stews, served with dew-drop wine. The two leaders raised their glasses to Greta and this new chapter in thei
r history, with the promise that war would never again break out between the two tribes. Brown and White mice would live together in peace and harmony for evermore.

  Greta’s task in the Land of Mice had been achieved. But she knew her adventure wasn’t over yet. She still had to travel to the Rat Kingdom, and rescue Boris. The thought of what lay ahead still made her nervous.

  ‘There really is no time to lose,’ Kyrie said, yawning, as the two went to their assigned bedchambers in the newly re-opened mouse palace. ‘The Rat Kingdom is the next land across from here. In fact, we’re nearly there. But we’ve got to get past that tricky millpond on the border, and then get to the point where we can rescue the Prince.’ She yawned again, lazily, as cats do. ‘So we’d both better get some rest. Or else we’ll be too tired to move on tomorrow!’

  Greta nodded, resting back on her soft bed (made from a mattress of leaves). But one thing was troubling her. ‘Kyrie,’ she murmured, as she slowly closed her tired eyes. ‘Kyrie, what’s the tricky millpond?’

  But Kyrie had already fallen asleep beside her, so Greta put the thought out of her mind, and went to sleep as well.

  In which Greta faces the millpond

  Kyrie and Greta woke that morning to see the sun streaming into their bedrooms – the first time the sun had shone on the Land of Mice since the war had begun. They could hear the mice running outside, joyous in their freedom from war and fear, able to enjoy the sunshine once more. Greta and Kyrie looked at one another and smiled, proud and happy with the work they had done here. They left their room and were warmly welcomed by Snowy and Riverbank, who, having spent the night and morning making each other ’s acquaintance, had discovered a mutual love of backgammon and chess. The four walked across to the palace’s banquet room, where they were offered the largest selection of cheese and crackers Greta had ever seen. The table ached under the weight of platters of cheddar and Cheshire, red Leicester, three county, stilton, ricotta, mascarpone, camembert, feta, brie, gorgonzola, emmenthal, mozzarella…plus a feast of sheep, goat and cow cheese that Greta couldn’t even name. After eating their fill (Kyrie had warned Greta to eat as much as possible as they might not be able to sit down to dinner for a while), the adventuring pair said goodbye to the mice, who thanked them over and over, and wished them luck with their mission; along with invites back to the palace should they ever pass through the Land of Mice again.

 

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