by Chrys Cymri
‘We choose our own partners.’ Cornelius’ voice echoed the emphasis given by the reds swirling around Tamar’s body. ‘There are no breeding pens here.’
I noted the tinge of brown. The colour of sadness. ‘Do you have children in the Nation?’
‘Many. I was one of their best breeders, but not out of choice.’
‘Tamar indeed,’ Morey said. ‘You named her better than you knew.’
She led us from the cave and back into the maze of passageways. I knew the entrance was near by the drop in temperature. Drawing my coat around me, I braced myself for an uncomfortable night sleeping on a floor. In my clothes. Without access to a loo. One of these days, I’d learn to carry a toothbrush.
At least the torches were still going strong. Peter and James were playing a game with a small set of cards. Raven was curled up to one side. Jago rested between the dragon’s horns, a small fuzz of blue against the darker green-black hide.
‘That was a long service,’ Peter commented.
‘We got side-tracked.’ I walked over and lowered myself onto a stool, and Morey dropped down to the floor. ‘The community has an escargatoire.’
‘Babies.’ James wrinkled his nose. ‘Not my thing.’
‘You’ll change your tune when you’re a father,’ Peter said. ‘Everyone does.’
‘Being a father is wonderful,’ Morey agreed.
I turned to the snail and changed languages and subject. ‘As we’ve said, we’re also Christians. How did you learn about God?’
‘Sorry, y’all, I’m not going to do this word for word,’ Cornelius said as Tamar’s body shimmered with a riot of colours. ‘Here’s the short version. A lemming came to the Nation who wouldn’t bow to the Eternal Leaders. She was given a second chance, but she still wouldn’t, shouting that she’d rather die then be unfaithful to God. She was torn apart, but she wasn’t the last one to say no. More lemmings died the same way. Some of the snails wondered what was this God that they talked about, and they wanted to know more.’
Morey nodded. ‘“Plures efficimur, quoties metimur a vobis; semen est sanguis christianorum.” Tertulllian. “We multiply whenever we are mown down by you; the blood of Christians is seed.”’
‘They kept the next lemming safe for awhile,’ Cornelius continued. ‘He taught them about the Trinity, and the holy words, and the promises made in water. When he was found, some of the snails hiding him were killed. Others got away, but a few stayed in hiding. They taught more of the snails. Some were found, others got away, a few remained in hiding.’
‘I think we get the picture,’ I said. ‘I take it the Nation wasn’t happy to just let you go?’
‘They attack us, again and again.’
‘You’re a threat to them,’ Peter said, and then waited while Morey translated his words into Welsh. ‘No totalitarian state wants its citizens to worship anything other than the nation, and the leader who symbolises that nation. That’s why they needed Clyde back. He’s the figurehead which unifies them. And that’s why you’ve tried to kill him, for the same reason. Isn’t it? He symbolises all the terrible things that have happened to you.’
Subdued pastel colours spread across Tamar’s body, shot through with the occasional bolt of red. Even though she seemed to be speaking freely, I was reminded of visits I’d made to the bereaved and the lonely. What words were being left unsaid? I knelt at her side, ignoring the hard press of the floor against my legs as I thought through my Welsh. ‘You’ve told us the Community’s story. Would you please tell us yours?’
The red intensified. A sound emerged from the snail, high and harsh, somewhere between a wail and a scream. My stomach convulsed. I found myself stroking her shell, avoiding the jagged ends. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I was in the breeding pens. I’d proved myself as a soldier, I’d led several campaigns against the rebels. I was even chosen to learn how to understand spoken words. But because of my strength, they sent me to the breeding pens.’ Cornelius translated without emotion, but I could read Tamar’s anguish from the dark hues pulsing through her body. ‘No daylight, no fresh meat, nothing but yet another chosen mate and more eggs. Produce eggs, or be eaten. That was my life. I hated the cave, I hated the Eternal Leaders. And I hated myself.’
I shook my head. ‘No one should have to live like that.’
‘Then a new snail was brought to the pens. He spoke of a different type of leader, someone who cared for others instead of controlling them. This leader had created the world, and the world belonged to him. To him, not to the Eternal Leaders. This leader had decided to come into his world and show us a better way to live. A way of love and kindness, caring for each other and the helpless. I found myself wondering whether I could live a better way. I asked for the promises in water, and I became a follower of Jesus.’
Rainbows exploded across her body as she said the name. I smiled at the sight. ‘And that changed your life.’
‘And I hated myself even more. I knew that I should refuse to provide more eggs, just as the holy words demanded.’
‘Where does the Bible say that?’ I was so baffled that I asked in English, and had to repeat myself in Welsh.
‘The holy words tell us of a leader who left snails to breed while he went to fight the enemy. When he returned, one snail had produced ten eggs, and another had produced five eggs. The leader praised those two snails. But the third snail had buried her eggs so they wouldn’t hatch. The leader punished her, saying, “Why didn’t you at least allow your partner to mate with another snail, who would have given me soldiers for my army? You will never mate again. Those who have plenty, they will be given more. But those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” The third snail is the example we must follow. She refused to give young who would serve in an evil leader’s army. I knew I couldn't stay any longer.’
‘The parable of the talents,’ Morey commented.
‘But that’s not the meaning of Jesus’ parable,’ I said to the gryphon. ‘We’re supposed to use our talents to support Christ’s work, not bury them.’
‘Is that what you’ve been taught?’ Morey shook his head. ‘It’s clear that Jesus was praising the third slave. Remember how the Bible tells it. The first two slaves helped a cruel ruler. They used their money to extort others so they could increase the profits of that ruler. The third slave refused to be part of an injust system.’
James glared at me. ‘That third guy had it right? You know, this story was rammed down my throat time and again in Sunday school. “Don’t waste your talents, God gave them for you to use for his glory. Don’t be lazy, you must use your gifts.”’ He held out his hand. ‘I want my childhood back.’
‘Only when you’ve paid for it,’ I told him. ‘What does it cost to raise a child, £200,000? I’d be happy to set up an installment plan.’
‘How did you get out?’ Peter asked the snail, Morey translating.
‘Other rebels helped me. We emerged onto the moor and fled in separate directions. I found a big place with many beings and hard stone.’ Cornelius paused. ‘I think she’s trying to describe a large city. And a very large stone building?’
‘Llanbedr?’ I asked.
‘There was singing in the building. That’s where she learned the holy words.’
‘Either a large church, or the cathedral,’ I guessed.
‘She stayed there for some time, taking shelter in the evening and leaving in the morning to hunt.’
‘That’s why she knows Evensong,’ Morey said. ‘And, I should think, morning prayer. Sounds like she missed hearing any communion services.’
‘Then she was found, and she was driven away,’ Cornelius continued. ‘From what’s she saying, I think a unicorn banished her.’
‘It’s always a unicorn,’ I muttered. ‘Sounds like the cathedral dean.’
‘Not that Tamar was entirely blameless,’ Cornelius continued. ‘She was eating the rats.’
‘Not the flying rats?’ James asked. ‘But they�
��re like, well, really intelligent.’
‘Yes, she ate the messengers. And a number of squirrels.’
I sighed. ‘No wonder the Dean loathes snail sharks.’ At Peter’s questioning noise, I explained, ‘Clyde got very short shrift when I took him to the Easter service.’
‘So she found a crossing place and ended up in your world. She joined a number of other refugees. But they didn’t remain for very long.’
‘Let me guess,’ Peter said. ‘This is where I come in.’
Tamar’s eyespots focussed on him. ‘The collaborator trapped us, marked our shells with the symbol of rebellion, and returned us to our enemies.’ She turned towards Peter, her jaws opening wide.
Peter straightened on his stool. ‘We had to remove you. Your people ate dogs, and cats. And human babies. Our own young.’
There was a pause while Morey translated. Then Tamar replied, ‘You killed us in return. Or sent us back. So we realised that nowhere would welcome us. The only place we could live was here, within reach of our enemies.’
‘I’m sorry, I really am,’ Peter said, ‘but we couldn’t let you hunt in our world. I had you all numbered to see if you’d return to England, and if so, where. So the heddlu took you to release points in different parts of Lloegyr.’
My knees had started to complain. I pulled my stool over, and took a seat. ‘And Tamar ended up in Llundain.’
‘The heddlu took them to Llundain?’
‘She was caught in a trap. She doesn’t know where.’ Cornelius cocked his head. ‘She was taken somewhere very cold, and white.’
‘We found her at the frost fair,’ I said. ‘Snail sharks were being forced to fight each other.’
‘And I set them free,’ James said eagerly. ‘Does she remember me?’
Morey translated. There was a pause. Then Cornelius said, ‘She was in a lot of pain, and doesn’t remember much. As she escaped the chain attached to her shell caught on a pole. You can see what happened when the ring tore away.’
Tamar moved. I rocked back on my stool in surprise. She slid up to James. For a moment her eyespots studied his face. Then she reared up on her foot, and her tentacles brushed against his cheek. Cornelius said, his tone soft, ‘She thanks you for your kindness.’
James swallowed. ‘Oh, well, that’s okay. I don’t like to see anything suffer.’
‘Not even a snail shark?’ Tamar asked through her translator.
‘Of course not. My sister brought one home, after all. Clyde, I mean the Great Leader, he’s part of the family.’
Morey’s feathers slicked flat, but he still undertook the necessary translation. As he said the words Arweinydd mawr, the snail drew back, her body darkening. Cornelius translated, almost apologetically, ‘The Eternal Leaders know nothing about love. Sorry, they don’t have a word for family. “Love binding” was the closest I could find.’
‘That’s what family is.’ I was suddenly feeling very tired. ‘How did she end up here?’
‘She didn’t know where else to go. Some lemmings helped her find the way back, and she joined the Community. Because she knew the holy words, they made her their leader.’ Cornelius cocked his head. ‘She says that she sprinkled water on them all, and they were cleansed from all of their idols.’
‘Ezekiel 36:25,’ Morey said. ‘Intriguing what bits of the Bible they seem to know.’
‘I guess it’s whatever they managed to memorise.’ I stifled a yawn. ‘And it’s probably broken down a bit as it was passed on from person to person.’
‘Snail to snail,’ Peter commented.
‘Person to person,’ I repeated firmly. ‘Tamar’s shown us that snail sharks know right from wrong, and can make decisions based on love. Snail sharks have souls.’
Peter studied me for a moment. Then he turned back to the snail. ‘But you still led an attack against innocent people. What about the deaths you caused in Caer-grawnt?’
‘The Great Leader was there, although we didn’t know exactly where.’ Cornelius ruffled his wings, echoing the red swirling through Tamar’s body. ‘We hoped that, if we could prevent him from returning to the Nation, we might be left in peace. The holy words allow us to attack in order to protect ourselves.’
Morey’s tail slapped against the floor. ‘Remind me to give them some lectures on Just War Theory.’
‘But we failed,’ Tamar continued. ‘And when the Great Leader came back, a raid was carried out against our members. Their bodies were left on the moor.’
Peter’s face tensed. Then he left his stool to crouch next to Tamar. ‘Your kind killed children in my world. And your people are still to blame for what happened in Caer-grawnt. But I realise my painting numbers on your shells made you a target for the Nation. I’m really sorry about that, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you live in peace.’
Red and brown churned through Tamar’s body. ‘While there is a Great Leader, there can be no peace.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
After that declaration from Tamar, conversation ground to a halt. Raven stretched out, allowing us three humans to use his legs as makeshift pillows. We laid down on the side facing the interior of the cave, which gave us some shelter from the draft coming through the entrance. Although I thought I’d never get to sleep, curled up on hard ground with a well-muscled foreleg under my head, at some point I must have dropped off.
I woke as light was just beginning to creep through the camouflage. Extra weight was draped across my shoulders. Peter’s coat. Despite my furred teeth and the horror of a morning without coffee, I found myself smiling as I sat up. The man just couldn’t shake off the idea that he needed to look after me.
Peter was sitting on one of the stools. I stretched life back into my legs, and got up to join him. ‘Thanks,’ I said as I handed back his jacket.
‘I couldn’t sleep anyway.’ He stared down at his hands. ‘I made it easier for a dictator to hunt down refugees.’
‘The snail sharks didn’t help their cause,’ I reminded him. ‘They had to be removed from our world.’
‘But they didn’t have to be numbered. That’s what helped the Nation know that they’re rebels.’ Peter sighed. ‘Let’s face it. I’m Boba Fett. I'm the servant of an evil empire.’ Then his face paled. ‘Or am I Darth Vader?’
‘The Nation didn’t just come from nowhere,’ I said. ‘Think about it. The snail sharks have been treated like vermin in both our worlds. Is it any wonder they’ve become militarised? That they’ve cut off contact from other species? Our prejudice helped create this very problem. We’re all guilty.’
Morey flew over. ‘She has a point. The Nation built up their army out of fear. People have the tendency to live up or down to our expectations of them.’
‘But the Nation lives here now,’ James said, sitting up several feet away. ‘What danger can there be from were-rabbits?’
‘Which is why the rebels, in effect, perpetuate the problem,’ Morey replied. ‘The Nation needs a continued threat to keep their citizens afraid, and willing to sacrifice everything for their leaders. And, in turn, the Nation’s policies are why the rebels exist. It’s a vicious spiral of violence.’
James joined us, Jago riding on his shoulder. ‘So what they need is a Gandhi, right?’
‘Or an Aung San Suu Kyi,’ I agreed. ‘Someone who can show them how to win without using violence.’
‘“It is not power that corrupts but fear,”’ Morey quoted. ‘“Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it and fear of the scourge of power corrupts those who are subject to it.” I admire Aung San Suu Kyi’s writings.’
‘What about Tamar?’ James asked.
Morey’s tail snapped a negative. ‘She’s led forays to kill the Great Leader. She shows no remorse over what happened in Caer-grawnt. I can’t see her willing to sit down and negotiate with him.’
‘Then there will be more attacks,’ Peter said grimly. ‘Can we fly out of here before that happens?’
We all glanced over at Raven. The d
ragon was fast asleep. I listened closely. ‘He’s still not breathing normally. I don’t know when he’ll be safe to fly.’
Light and air swirled into the cavern as the covering was pulled back. Were-rabbits strode in. I glanced away, not awake enough to cope with the headache-inducing shimmer I always saw around weres. So I heard more than saw them place food on the table before they withdrew again.
‘No meat,’ Morey noted, looking at the bowls of dried grain, carrots, and a few apples.
‘Perhaps it’s yet to come,’ Cornelius said.
Then I spotted a yellow-brown curve of delight. ‘A banana!’ I grabbed at the fruit, and tore open the peel.
‘You can tell a lot about how a woman handles a man, by how she handles a banana.’ James gave Peter a wink. ‘I’d be careful, if I were you.’
I tried to say something around my full mouth. Peter tapped my brother on the shoulder. ‘Can you come with me for a minute?’
The two men moved to the far end of the cavern. My ears pricked, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Cornelius cocked his head. ‘Peter is telling James that he realises everyone handles stress in different ways. But he doesn’t reckon that your brother’s particular brand of humour is helping matters. Your brother is admitting to being scared. Peter is now saying, “Courage isn’t a matter of not being frightened, you know. It’s being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway.”’
‘He’s quoting the Third Doctor. From a TV programme. From Earth.’ Then I coughed. ‘I don’t think Peter wants me to know what he’s saying.’
‘Then why were you earwigging?’
Fortunately, at that moment the were-rabbits returned with a platter of dark meat. I tried not to worry about the source. The carnivores in the group obviously had no qualms, as beaks and forelegs dug into their breakfast.
Tamar slid into the room. ‘Morning prayer,’ Cornelius translated.
I glanced at Morey. ‘That sounds like a summons.’ And the gryphon flew up to my shoulder as we followed the snail from the cavern.