Sabre had a pride in his ancestry which was unusual for the day and age. It was an old aristocrat’s pride, in family, in kin, in kind. He could not bear the thought that he was being laughed at. There were those, even other dogs, who called him a relic of the past, an old colonial who held in esteem a culture which had all but died. Sabre saw no reason to let go of values discarded by the weak.
He recalled being taught the ‘middle history’ of dogs: a time when men and their hounds were much closer, in spirit as well as in body. In those days, hounds used to lie under the table when dining was in progress, and receive choice bones from the hands of their masters. And man and dog would hunt in the forests together, for the boar and the wolf.
Sabre wanted a return to those old times, when dogs were valued not for sentimental reasons, but because of their ability to track and hunt down the creatures. The land of his birth, where the lion and the elephant were struggling to survive, bore witness to those times. There were packs of staghounds running the streets and bush country: hounds that had been abandoned by their masters seasons out of time past, and left to fend for themselves. It was to their credit that these dogs were managing to survive and continue their line. They were noble hounds, from noble families, and yet they had not slipped into the beggary which might be expected of them.
So, Sabre could not afford to let an insignificant creature like a fox, a vixen, bring ridicule upon his head. A dog with a mission as lofty as Sabre’s could not ‘drink ditchwater’ since he had to be held up as an example to all other hounds. He had to be the epitome of houndhood: noble, strong, chaste, able, revered, admired, unsullied, passionate in war, merciless, above ridicule, and many, many other attributes.
It was essential to kill the vixen.
PART 4
The Unremembered Fear
Chapter Fifteen
The time was Ransheen, and She blew through the streets of the new town finding fresh directions: being deflected down alleys, into courtyards and around squares. Although the buildings, many of them still unfinished, were new they had a period design. There were external beams on the more expensive buildings and cobbled precincts in and around the central square. There were even a mock water pump and horse trough for the birds to drink from, though of course the foxes used it as well. The animals found the inhabitants to be generous. Saucers of bread and milk were left out for hedgehogs (who would have preferred cat’s food) and the birds grew plump and lazy. Not many thought to feed the foxes, but then the red-coated ghosts were rarely seen. Earths were dug in various places: some within a few feet of a human dwelling. One fox even had its earth in the utility room of a house which owned a cat and a dog, and managed to evade the bumbling old spaniel whenever it had to leave or enter its home. The fox used the cat flap to enter and leave the premises. The owners of the house knew it was there, of course, but tolerated its presence for reasons known only to themselves.
Another vixen lived in the boiler room of a school and managed to chew through a water pipe while cleaning her teeth. She sat at a safe distance, behind the central heating expansion tank, and had the audacity to wait and watch while the plumber fixed the damage. Instead of chasing her away, the school authorities had the pipes sheathed. It seemed that having a fox on the grounds was sometimes regarded as a status symbol amongst the human occupants.
Trinity Wood was indeed landscaped in places and modelled at the south end after certain city parklands, with devices for the children to play on, and asphalt walks. Exotic trees and flowers were introduced into the traditional woodland, and the wild creatures therein were pushed into an even tighter area. A pond was dug and swans introduced into the neighbourhood.
Luckily the sett was not interfered with, since the park authorities wanted to retain what wild life there was remaining in the wood. Food, however, was a problem. Many of the hunting areas had disappeared, along with the highways and byways, and all was face. O-ha had to go down into the streets (where Camio now lived) to find food. There were bins to raid, and black plastic bags full of rubbish in certain streets on certain days. Under Camio’s guidance she learned quickly where to go and at what time. Other animals did not fare as well, as they were unused to town life. Some of them went hungry.
Camio had said it would be easy, but he had reckoned without the great numbers of creatures that would be dependent on the town; the fact that most of them had not the skills necessary to live in the streets; the fact that the town itself was only partially built and would take some time to begin flourishing. It was the next generation of creatures who would find the life easy, when their numbers had settled to acceptable levels for the food available. Until that time survival would continue to be difficult for those without sound knowledge of street life.
O-ha still maintained a rather aloof attitude towards the dog fox, but was gradually melting inside. They would walk together, through the pools of light thrown down by coruscating street lamps, discussing the differences in their cultural backgrounds.
‘So you don’t know about A-O,’ she asked him, as they skirted the main square one evening, heading for a bin which stood outside a take-away which had closed for the night.
‘It’s not that I don’t know – it’s that I don’t recognise she-he as the originator of the fox race. I was taught that Menxito was the first fox, also of dual sexuality I might add, so there’s a common link there.’
‘But that’s wrong – A-O …’
‘Look, there’s no right or wrong about it. It’s just a fox by another name. Don’t keep falling back on dogma.’
‘There’s no need to bring dogs into it,’ she replied, knowing full well what he meant, but wanting to save face a little.
Suddenly, he turned to look at her, intently.
‘Isn’t it about time we set up an earth together?’ he said, bluntly.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You know very well what I mean. I want us to live together, have a litter. Your time isn’t far away. Who are you waiting for? A-magyr?’
She sniffed.
‘There’s no need to be insulting. No, of course I’m not waiting for him. I can’t stand the animal. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to fall over myself to get to you.’
‘Fall over yourself? That’ll be the day. I wonder you even bother to speak to me. Don’t you like me?’
She stared at the ground.
‘Of course I like you. But you’re so different from me. We have different backgrounds. I’m – I’m still not sure about you.’
‘What’s there to be sure of? I’m a fox, you’re a fox. The time for mating is near. I’ve lived with a mate before – I told you. I shall never see her again and no doubt, if she’s still alive, she’s found another. There’s no other vixen I want around here. You’re the one I want.’
‘You can’t have me just because you want me.’
‘I know that – that’s why I’m asking. There are other vixens who would have me …’
She stiffened.
‘Well you’d better go to one then, hadn’t you …’
‘… but none as good as you. I know we’d deal well together. I’m not one of your promiscuous foxes. I won’t leave you in the lurch once the cubs are born. How can I convince you of that?’
‘If – if I came to you, it would have to be for always. I’ve lost one litter because there was no dog fox to feed me while I kept the cubs warm. I couldn’t bear it, if it happened again.’
His eyes were suddenly very bright and she warmed to him.
‘Look,’ he said, ‘I respect your memory for A-ho, but he’s dead and nothing can bring him back to life. I’m sure he was a good mate, none better, because I can’t imagine you choosing anyone that wasn’t.’
She made a snorting sound.
‘There’s a little bit of immodesty in there somewhere, since it’s now clear that I’ve chosen you.’
He looked hard at her, then did a little dance around a lamp post, before saying, ‘You
mean it? You will come to me?’
‘Yes – just don’t let me down.’
‘Wonderful! Let you down? Not in a million seasons. The winds will stop blowing before I did such a terrible thing. Now, we must choose a suitable earth. You must leave the sett, of course. The place I have at the moment isn’t good enough. I live in the roof of a garage, but the fumes there – well, you wouldn’t like it. Neither would the cubs. They must have good, clean air, and a certain amount of greenery. I’ve seen a house on the edge of – what do you call it – the face. It’s not one of the new ones. There’s an orchard at the back, which has been neglected. The female human that lives there is very old, and no one comes to do the garden. We could live under the shed at the bottom. How do you feel about that?’
‘Sounds quite good.’
‘Yes, well don’t go berserk.’
‘I must see it first.’
‘We’ll go tonight.’
They rummaged in a bin, finding some waste food, and ate their fill, before he took her to the place he had found. When she saw where it was, her heart turned over. It was the gatehouse to the manor where she had lost her previous litter. She said nothing to Camio, however, and showed delight in his choice of location. Since the time she had lived there, the house, garden and shed had been surrounded and encroached on by the new town, and was now part of it. The manor house itself was near enough to concern O-ha, but Camio took her on a tour of the wall and showed her that Sabre’s kingdom was completely enclosed and the barbarian was a prisoner of his own world. She reluctantly accepted this reassurance.
Life was good once again. There was a space beneath the shed, suitable for an earth. The trees in the orchard were a little mature, but would certainly show fruit the next summer. There were apples, pears and greengages laid out in rows a little too neat for his taste, but it suited her fine.
The next day she visited the sett for the last time before moving out. She found Gar in a grumpy mood, but when he heard she was leaving he stayed to talk to her.
‘Ha, you go. It happens sometime, I suppose. I miss you fox hearda – most strong I miss you. We talk good together, eh? Well, you go – make nice little foxes – come see badger sometime with little fluffy foxes. We made good friends, ya? Good, good.’
And with that he ambled away to his own chamber, a place she had not been inside since that first night in the sett, when she had been looking for a new home. He was a very private badger in many ways and though she had spent some time with the creature, she felt she hardly knew him at all. Apart from having to leave Gar, she was not sorry to move out of the sett. Badgers were noisy creatures, always chattering and snuffling with their rubbery noses in corners of the sett. There had been times when she had been close to shrieking at them to keep quiet, when she wanted to rest and they continually disturbed her. Still, that was behind her now. She was ready for a new life.
When she got back to the earth in the orchard, she spent some time sanctifying the new home with various rituals performed around the entrance and inside. Camio watched her, mystified by all the to-ing and fro-ing, the chanting, the squared spirals scratched in the dust. He started to complain, once, but she glared at him so hard he shut his mouth immediately. When it was all over, he said, ‘Is that it? Are we safe from mad spirits and tree ghosts?’
‘You be careful what you say about tree ghosts,’ she replied, while marking the posts around the garden with her scent.
He looked astounded, probably because he had no doubt been guessing and was amazed to find he had hit on the right area. Actually, he could not have been further from the truth but she let him think he knew what he was talking about.
When they were settled in for their first rest, side by side, she said sleepily, ‘You must change your name now, to A-ho.’
‘What?’ his head jerked up. ‘I’ll do no such thing. A-ho was your old mate. My name is Camio.’
‘But it’s traditional. The dog fox takes its name from the vixen, and since my name is O-ha, you have to be …’
‘That’s a stupid tradition. I’ve never heard of such a thing. I must admit I wondered why all the pairs around here had reflecting names, but I never thought … no, no. I won’t do it.’
‘I suppose you expect me to change my name to reflect yours?’
‘No such thing. You keep your own name and I’ll keep mine. I see no reason to change either of them.’
‘But the other vixens – they won’t know you’re my fox.’
‘Good thing too. Smacks of ownership – my fox, your fox. Look, I couldn’t care less about other vixens, or the dog foxes, or anyone but us. We know we belong to each other. We don’t need signs to tell the world what we know in our hearts. I’m sorry to disappoint you – I know you like all this tradition, but I find it all a bit too tight – too constricting. I like things a little bit more loose than you do. I’m afraid it’s something about me you’ll have to put up with.’
She went back to the entrance to the earth.
‘There – I knew it was a mistake. We are very different.’
‘But this is just a little thing.’
‘If it’s so little, then why not do as I ask? After all, this is my country, not yours. You should go by the customs here, not try to import your own ways, and change us.’
He looked very hurt, and crossed his forepaws.
‘A-ho, A-ho,’ he repeated to himself. ‘I’ll never get used to it. It’s not me at all. I don’t feel like an A-ho – I feel like a Camio. A-ho – I’ll be a stranger to myself. I won’t know when I’m being called, or who this person is that foxes speak of. I’ll have the ghost of another fox inside me.’ He looked her in the eyes, which were glowing in the near darkness. ‘I’m not him, you know. You can’t make me into him. If you try, it’ll only bring us both grief. I’m me, Camio, the fox from another land. A-ho is dead and wandering the woodlands of the Perfect Here.’
She suddenly saw the logic of his reasoning. When she called him, she would in unguarded moments by surprised that his voice was different from the voice of A-ho. She still dreamed of her previous mate, and those dreams would become confused with the reality of her present situation, if she could not clearly differentiate between what was and what is.
‘You’re right. A-ho is A-ho, you are not him. I’ll call you A-camio.’
‘No, not even that. I’ll be just Camio. You can be O-comia, if you like.’
‘I certainly don’t like, thank you. It seems we’re to share an earth without belonging to each other in the eyes of the world. So be it, if that’s how it must be. I don’t suppose it’ll make any difference to the way in which we feel about each other. I don’t know. To my knowledge, it’s never been tried before. I suppose it’s my strict upbringing that results in these qualms over what must appear to you to be silly issues. A-konkon will have a fit when he finds out – if you think I’m a traditionalist, wait until you meet him on the highway sometime, and see what he has to say about such unorthodox pairings. Well, don’t let’s argue about it all day. Let’s get some rest.’
He seemed satisfied to leave it at that. They marked each other and then lay together, touching.
When her time came, she was surprised how good it was with a fox other than A-ho. Camio was just as sensitive and considerate to her needs, and spent a long time nipping her flanks with his teeth, gently, and nuzzling her, encouraging the excitement within her to rise to a high pitch, before the actual act, which after all only lasted seconds. During the third they became so excited they ‘locked’, ending up back to back the way foxes and dogs sometimes do, and had to wait several hours until he was able to free himself. Still, apart from that incident, which wasn’t so bad, since they were in a lonely place and unlikely to be disturbed, everything went well. Her fur got that electric buzz, the static crackling between them as they rubbed against each other. She went hot with passion when he brushed full length against her and had to bite him once or twice, just because the feeling overwhelmed her so
much that only a physical action on her part would serve as a safety valve for such contained emotion. He yelped, whispering that he wanted her more when she did such things.
When it was over, Camio let out a triple bark and a scream, and she thought: some things never change. Then they lay contented, side by side, touching just enough to know the other was there.
In the world around them the winter set in. Frost made the grasses crisp underfoot, and they had to pick out the ice from between their claws after spending any time outside the earth. Everything crackled with hardened moisture and fern patterns appeared on the windows of the shed. The soil became solid and impossible to dig, so that earthworms could not be reached. Insects disappeared from the face of the world. Water was hard to find.
She taught him the rituals of leaving and entering the earth, which (after all) she said, were insurance against discovery. If one spent time and patience going through the correct procedures, then it increased the safety factor. He wanted to please her, and also ensure his future cubs had a home which was not likely to be attacked while they were too young to run, so he learned her ways.
Midwinter came, and with it heavy falls of snow. On occasion it was a matter of burrowing blindly through the cold white crystals, and finding the way by tunnels. It was a dangerous time, since their prints were all around the earth, but there was nothing they could do about it. Besides, being foxes they left junk around, all over the place, on top of the snow.
One night, Camio left the earth, only to come back a little while later without any food. His eyes were full of anxiety and O-ha knew that something terrible had happened.
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