Cycle of Life, the rise and fall of Tanya Vine

by Hannah Robinson

  Chapter 17

  Rude awakening

  Pansy rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands, then cocked her head to one side, listening to the sound of distant shouting. “What’s that noise? What are they doing out there?”

  “They’re attacking Ibis again,” replied Rosie.

  “The Homesteaders?”

  “No child. If only it was that easy. I want you to think very carefully for me.”

  Pansy frowned. “Yes,” she said slowly.

  “Have you been telling bedtime stories to the young ones here?”

  “Well, yes. We take it in turns. But why? And why are you here?”

  “Easy question first. I’m here because I’ve been looking for you, ever since Emma told me about the temple cellars.”

  “Oh.” She paused a second, remembering when she and Emma had been dared by the others to go all the way through the temple cellars, and she had been bitten on the shoulder by a green spider, larger than any she had ever seen before. “Am I in trouble then?”

  “Yes my precious, but not like you think. You need looking after now, not punishing. Tell me, do you dream in colour, or just in shades of grey?”

  Pansy considered the strange question. “Err, colour I think, yes definitely, but not always.”

  “And do you see spiders webs, fishing nets, that sort of thing in your dreams?”

  Pansy thought that she knew where this was leading, and was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. “Yes, sometimes.”

  Rosie thought a moment and nodded. “No more stories Pansy Prayerbook. Speak no words that are untrue. The cellar dwellers are no ordinary creatures, and it seems that somehow, the bite you received from that spider in the cellars has changed you, and put you in touch with the goddess of lies. She likes you. Likes your stories. And she appears to be making your stories come true. You spin the tales and she provides the substance to make them real.”

  Pansy gave a nervous laugh, then put her hand to her mouth as she realised that some of her stories hadn’t been that nice. She struggled to sit up, with Rosie and Flossie helping her. “Oh, I feel dizzy.”

  “Not surprising dear, you’ve been asleep for most of two days.”

  Pansy looked round the darkened room. “I remember now. My shoulder aches sometimes. Where I got bitten.”

  “That could be when 'she' is listening to you. From now on, you must be careful. Think twice before you speak, Whatever you say, may come true.”

  Pansy goggled at her. “Oh no! That prophecy I made at Dockside, is that why the shark woman died in the tower?”

  Rosie just nodded.

  “I killed her. With words.” Pansy closed her eyes as she realised what she had unwittingly done. “Which of my stories is out there now?” She asked.

  “We are besieged by an army of sheep.”

  “More timber here,” yelled Margo, as the South gate shuddered again. “They’re nearly through. You. Jenny Grey, get up there and help with that rock.”

  As Margo continued to shout at the tired citizens, trying desperately to shore up the splintering gates, Jenny climbed the stairway.

  Yesterday, when the sheep had arrived, coming from the South, most of the townsfolk had thought it was funny. After all, it wasn’t every day that you saw multi coloured sheep, was it? Sasha and her cousins knew better though. They knew about the rainbow menace from Pansy’s stories, and had dragged the older women inside, then shut and barred the farm gate before the killer sheep could get too close.

  In Ibis, the sheep didn’t amuse anyone for very long.

  Josie and Jackie Twopenny had been by the river, gathering rushes, when the sheep army attacked, and they had not managed to outrun the nimble animals.

  All that was left of the sisters was the ragged remains of their clothes. And their shoes of course, complete with feet inside them. Apparently, in sheep society, eating feet was considered to be socially unacceptable.

  Margo and her band of archers had sent showers of arrows at the evil creatures, and scored many hits, but no sheep had died. Their wool was so thick that the arrows couldn’t penetrate very far. So the sheep just carried on, with arrows hanging from their fleeces, as if nothing had happened. After the first few hectic hours, it was stalemate. Sheep circling the town, humans safe inside. Then today they had brought up the battering ram.

  Philpot Rameses the third had been specially reared for this one job. Gates were his speciality. His head was solid bone, and he had shoulders as wide as a wardrobe to give him maximum oomph when he hit the target. Unfortunately, he had an IQ of minus ten so he didn’t think very much. All the other sheep had to do, was to point him in the right direction, and leave him to it, while they went to have another cup of lemon tea or something.

  “It’s coming again,” warned Jenny, and Sandy got into position. The rock was so heavy, that it had taken three of them all their strength to lift it onto the wall, and now it balanced there. Precariously. Ready to fall at the slightest push. They had watched the ram twice now, and had dropped a pebble the last time, to gauge when they should let the rock go.

  “Only one chance Sandy,” said Jenny. “Are you ready?”

  Sandy nodded and braced herself. She had volunteered to be the pusher.

  “It’s up to speed. Twenty metres, fifteen, ten, PUSH!”

  Their one chance fell from the wall and hurtled towards the ground. Instead of the mighty thud of ram against gate, there was a sickening crunch as the rock crushed the ram’s pelvis. But seconds later, there was an insistent knocking noise from below.

  Jenny, Sandra and Phyllis leaned out and looked down from the wall. The ram had managed to crawl the last metre or so to the gate and was doing what it did best.

  It’s head rose and fell gently against the gate as it continued to do it’s duty.

  Marianne came into Pansy’s bedroom. “It’s nearly ready,” she said, “just a little more sugar, then we can go.”

  “Are you sure this is what we have to do?” asked Rosalind.

  Marianne looked to Pansy for confirmation. Pansy nodded. She dare not say the words.

  “They’ve killed him,” bleated Evelyn, black captain of the first woollen brigade.

  “No,” replied Heather, also black and her second in command. “He’s still moving.”

  Evelyn gave a sheepish scowl. “As good as,” she insisted, then took a deep breath. “RED SECTION,” she bellowed. “Pyramid duty.”

  Thirty red sheep trotted forward. “Hope we get a medal this time,” grumbled one. “Got sent to the kitchen to peel potatoes last time we did this. The Great Shepherdess said it was a reward. Huh. Some reward. Those lazy greens got a medal, and all they did was chase off a couple of lions.”

  Nobody was listening. They were all concentrating, and doing their best not to be in the first rank to reach the wall.

  “After you lamb.”

  “Don’t you lamb me, Barbara Redstock. You’re bigger than most of us, so get yourself i
n that front row.”

  “Well. The cheek of it. I’ll have you know that I fit nicely into a size eight and a half.”

  “Yes. Maybe your left foot does, but what size is the rest of you?”

  “RED SECTION. GET TO THAT WALL.” Evelyn shouted her orders at the dawdling reds. “ORANGE SECTION. ADVANCE.”

  “Oh rhubarb, they’re coming,” yelled one of the rearmost sheep. “Brace yourselves girls.”

  The red sheep started to form the pyramid against the town wall at last, and only just in time, as the orange section began to climb over them to reach the ramparts.

  “Are you ready girls,” shouted Tanya to her little squad.

  The seven, picked because they were the fastest runners, all confirmed their readiness.

  “Ready at the gate?”

  Marco raised his right thumb and grasped the locking bar.

  “Let’s do it then.” She looked up to the wall top. “Doris?”

  “All clear.”

  Marco heaved the bar from it’s socket and Polly pushed open the gate to let out the eight runners. They swept past her, and before they had cleared the orchard, the gate was shut and barred again.

  Margo screamed her defiance and heaved with all her might. “GET OFF MY WALL.”

  The sheep grabbed at the spear shaft, but it’s orange paws couldn’t grip tight enough to wrest it from Margo’s grasp. It fell slowly backwards, and on the way down it dislodged two more from the pyramid. It limped away to let fresher legs have a go at the climb.

  Evelyn turned to Heather, “get the yellow squad up here.”

  “YELLOW,” screamed Heather. Then sniffed as the wind briefly veered to come from the East. “What’s that?”

  Evelyn sniffed too. “Imagination. Get on with it.”

  The yellow squad were nearly at the pyramid and starting to pick their way through the orange and red casualties when another gust of wind made all heads turn into the breeze. Eight girls in loose robes were jogging towards them. None of them were carrying weapons.

  “Get me some more rocks,” shouted Margo to the exhausted crowd below. They had been carrying stones and statues from all parts of the town and were nearing the end of their strength. The sudden silence from the enemy below made her look in the same direction that the sheep were all facing. She could see, but couldn’t believe. Eight girls carrying buckets and paint brushes were nearly amongst the sheep.

  “Pick your targets,” yelled Tanya firmly. “Stay in your pairs. And CHARGE.”

  One girl to attack and one to defend the attacker. Dancing among the panicking sheep they chose their targets with care, and the slightest touch from a paint brush loaded with mint sauce was enough to make them curl up and die.

  Pansy certainly told the strangest stories.

  Most of the red and orange sheep met a saucy end, but the majority of the yellows managed to get away from the flashing paint brushes with the deadly vinegar dripping from their bristles. The green and blue squads were still drawn up at the river side, and looking on in horror at the mayhem surrounding the gate, decided to look for a different job. Perhaps one with better pension rights.

  Heather put self before duty, and ran after the disappearing flock, but Evelyn was furious and charged at the interlopers. Marianne and Lilibet were nearest and her first choice of target. The captain of the ovine army was nearly on them, but Molli shouted a warning just in time. Dropping her almost empty bucket, Marianne grabbed her cousin and they rolled out of the way of the thundering hooves and flashing teeth. Evelyn fell to her knees as she stepped into the puddle of mint sauce, and she rolled several times before coming to a halt. She fixed the girls with a baleful stare.

  “Baa,” she said. “Nearly had you.” Then she closed her eyes and expired.

  Tanya put her hand out and tickled the ram behind his ears. He stopped banging his head against the town gate and looked up at her sadly.

  “You’re nearly a goat, aren’t you?” she whispered to him. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but I can’t help you.”

  There were tears in her eyes as she gently touched his forehead with her brush.

  Maddy Toogood surveyed the pile of dead sheep. She had been nowhere to be seen during the sheep’s frantic attack on the wall, but now it was all over, she was trying to claim the glory, and the prize. Although they had lost the Twopenny sisters, they had gained enough wool to set up a clothing industry.

  “That’s right,” she called to the girls clipping the wool from the carcases, “keep the same colours together.”

  Margo looked up angrily at the sound of her voice. “You’re late, Maddy. Where were you half an hour ago?”

  “Who are you to question me, Margo Lemon? But for your information, I’ve been defending the North gate. In case of surprise attacks.”

  “Well push off back to the North gate then, and you can collect your own wool there.”

  Maddy was surprised by the venom in Margo’s voice. “Surely, you can see that all this wool must go to the city’s treasury?”

  Margo held up one gnarled fist. “Surely, you can see that this fist will be in your face if you don’t sod off? You’ve outlived your usefulness to us Maddy Toogood. When it got nasty out here, you were hiding in the council house. Shelly heard you crying upstairs.” She raised her voice as Maddy turned and ran off. “And it’s no use going back there. It’s locked against you now. You’ll have to earn your keep for a change.” She gave a grim smile as Maddy disappeared round the corner. “Right ladies.” She waved the women and girls back into action. “Carry on, and there’ll be fair shares for all.”

  Tanya and the panting girls were sitting on the grassy slope leading towards the farm, and they watched the frenzied activity at the wall, where the naked sheep were now being carried away to be buried.

  “Is that the end of it?” Tanya asked Caroline.

  She opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Molli. “There’s another one,” she gasped, and jumped up grabbing her almost empty pot.

  It did her no good, as she was deftly shouldered aside, and the bedraggled goat came to an unsteady halt in front of Tanya, mint sauce dripping from it’s nose.

  “Baaaaa.”

  The girls were dumbfounded at the appearance of the creature. It was trembling from head to hoof, gasping for breath and was filthy.

  “Baaaaa!!!”

  Tanya pushed the others out of the way, and held the goats head gently in her hands.

  “I know you,” she said quietly. “What on earth brings you here?”

  It was nearly possible to see the workings of the strange mind as it struggled with alien concepts. “Baa. Daaamn.”

  It was Tanya’s turn to be surprised, and her eyes were like saucers as she heard the first word ever spoken by a goat. (Gretagast didn’t count, being an alien)

  “Calm down,” she whispered and stroked the goats forehead.

  “Hooome.” The goats face was twitching with the effort. “Saaalii
ii.”

  “Good girl,” said Tanya, “You’re doing really well.”

  “Woof.”

  “What?”

  “Woof?”

  Tanya gave a short laugh. “You’ve been round the dogs too long!”

  “Woof… Wool… WOOOLF! HOOOME! SAAALIIII!”