The Enchanted Flute

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The Enchanted Flute Page 20

by James Norcliffe


  ‘If, as you have said, Faunus has returned, and restored to some vigour, then we are all threatened. And if he is in possession of the flute, then that threat is even greater. Mayhem would return to Arcadia. For ages now the fauns have been timid, retiring creatures and this has been to the common good. With Faunus returned, though, each faun would surely be corrupted again, would return to his old habits.’

  ‘That is my fear, too,’ whispered Hester Nye.

  ‘None of us would be safe. Silenus is a fool and a drunkard, and an ever present danger. He, however, is only one and we can generally avoid his clumsy blundering and stumbling. But if every faun became a Silenus again, then life would become intolerable. Our community, the shepherds on the plains and hills, none would have a moment’s safety.’

  Becky looked at the woman’s troubled face and her eyes widened. She thought of the gentle Sylvester, Figaro and the others who had helped her even in the extremes of their timidity. It was not possible that such gentle little creatures could become monsters, surely?

  ‘You have also made it clear, though,’ continued the woman, ‘that such a thing could only happen with the connivance of the girl-child …’ She glanced at Becky.

  Hester Nye nodded. ‘The child is the instrument,’ she said.

  ‘Then the child must be sequestered safely,’ said the woman.

  ‘Sequestered?’ asked Becky. It was a word she did not know, but she didn’t like the sound of it.

  ‘She means we must somehow keep you from Faunus,’ explained Hester Nye.

  ‘It cannot be here,’ said the woman. ‘Sooner or later, Faunus will discover that the girl was brought here and he will seek her. We cannot withstand him, especially if he brings that maniac goatherd.’

  Becky realised she meant Silenus. She thought the woman was right. Silenus was a giant set against their slender ness, and Dr Faunus the invalid had long disappeared.

  The answer seemed obvious.

  ‘It’s easy,’ she said, relieved at the obviousness of it all. ‘We can go back to our world.’ Her face clouded a little. There was still the problem of Johnny Cadman. ‘We’d need to find Johnny, of course. I couldn’t leave him here. But as soon as we do, show us the way back and then it’s not a problem. We’ll be there, the flute will be here, and never the two shall meet!’

  It seemed so simple. Hester Nye clearly knew how to pass from one world to the other. She’d brought a farm trike with her, for goodness’ sake. Becky beamed encouragingly at the two women. Hester Nye must know how she and Johnny could return.

  However, they did not seem so taken with the idea. They exchanged glances, and then Hester Nye said, somewhat coldly, ‘It’s out of the question.’

  ‘But why?’ demanded Becky, struggling to understand her attitude.

  ‘Because,’ said Hester Nye simply, ‘you belong here. You are part of this world.’

  ‘The maidens,’ demanded Faunus. ‘Where are they?’

  He had roused from his brooding state and now looked up, more energised.

  Johnny looked around. He’d not heard of these maidens before, and was intrigued about what the question meant.

  The faun he now knew to be Sylvester spoke. ‘They have settled in the villa by the olive grove on the bluff,’ he said.

  Faunus grinned, stroking his chin. ‘Have they?’ he said. ‘Have they, indeed. Well, there’s an insolence for you.’

  Johnny remembered Silenus pointing out the ancient building high on the promontory and saying that it had been his master’s old house. He also recalled that it was in the direction of this house that the farm trike seemed to have been heading.

  ‘That’s where the motorcyclist was going,’ he said.

  Faunus looked at him.

  Johnny explained. ‘When we saw that farm trike it seemed to be coming from that place.’

  Faunus nodded. ‘Of course, that’s where they are. And that’s undoubtedly where the flute will be and where the girl Rebecca will be. How foolish and pathetic they are to think they can keep these things from me!’

  He stood from his seat and stretched out his arms. ‘Friends,’ he said. ‘The waiting is almost over. I can feel it. It won’t be long now before you are restored as I have been restored.’

  There was a gasp of appreciation and once again the fauns broke into an excited chatter. This hubbub was instantly stilled, however, and at first Johnny could not understand why. In the long silence that followed, though, he eventually could hear running footsteps along one of the tunnel passageways. The footsteps grew louder and then an excited faun burst into the chamber. Clearly this faun had no idea that Dr Faunus was present for he looked around wildly for some moments before seeing the doctor standing before his seat, arms still outstretched. Then he stopped, recognising him.

  ‘Master?’ he asked uncertainly.

  His fellow fauns quickly assured him that this was indeed Faunus, and the newcomer, suddenly overawed, dropped to his knees as if before a king.

  ‘What means this sudden entrance, Balthazar?’ asked Faunus.

  ‘It’s Silenus, Master. He’s climbing up the slope and he seems to be making his way directly to this place. He knows somehow where …’

  At this news there was yet another hubbub, but this time not of happy excitement, but of consternation. Faunus, however, was quite relaxed at the prospect of the drunken goatherd’s arrival.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’m pleased to hear it. I have much to say to that foolish man.’

  Johnny was not nearly so relaxed. Faunus was right, Silenus’s nostrils would have been quite sensitive to chicken manure and, anyway, they would have left an easy enough trail in their scrambling hurry to get away. He was worried that Silenus would be furious at losing his dinner and very determined to get him back. He knew that in any defence against the giant and violent hunter, the fauns would be useless and he was not entirely convinced that Dr Faunus would be much better. Sure, the doctor was able to lord it over the little fauns, but Silenus was not a little faun.

  His worry then turned to alarm as Faunus turned to him and said, ‘Well, boy, let us go and meet this ever hungry fool.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Of course! We have things to say to him.’

  Johnny ached to protest and somehow persuade Faunus that this was not a good idea, but Faunus’s manner and tone told him that any protest would be useless.

  ‘Couldn’t we wait here?’ Johnny suggested.

  ‘Out of the question,’ snapped Faunus. ‘I have no intention of letting Silenus discover this sanctuary. He is, as you have discovered, utterly untrustworthy and quite without shame. No, we must beard him before he gets anywhere near the waterfall, so we must hurry.’

  With that he leapt away from the seat and hastened from the chamber. Johnny followed him down the passage numbly and miserably. He did not like what was happening one little bit. Having managed to escape from the clutches of Silenus it seemed suicidal folly to put themselves anywhere near the monster.

  In very little time they were back in the grotto curtained by the waterfall. Faunus ran towards the shining barrier and peered through.

  ‘Hurry!’ he ordered, then disappeared through it.

  Johnny followed suit, plunging first through the falling water and then jumping into the pool itself. Quickly they waded through the water to the rocky shore.

  Before continuing down the hillside, Faunus turned to Johnny. ‘Stay as close to me as possible. He will have his bow, no doubt, and if we are separated you could become an easy target.’

  Johnny nodded silently. His throat was dry, and not just from the running. Somehow he’d try to stay close to the prancing Faunus although he knew it would be next to impossible. He did not want to think of what could happen otherwise.

  Abruptly, Faunus turned and disappeared over the bank with Johnny scrambling after him. Half-running, half-falling he tumbled down the hill, knowing he must be making a noise like an avalanche. Faunus, on the other hand, leapt gracefully
from rock to rock, from tiny foothold to tiny foothold with all the grace of a dancer.

  They seemed to have travelled only a minute or two when Faunus froze, and then turned back to Johnny, his finger at his lips.

  Johnny grabbed at a flimsy vine, and then slid to an ungainly stop almost at Faunus’s hooves.

  ‘Here he comes,’ whispered Faunus.

  Johnny listened. In the sudden silence he could hear nothing. Faunus jumped up onto a large rock on the brim of the slope and looked down. Johnny continued to strain at the silence but was convinced the doctor was imagining things.

  Then he did hear a noise. It seemed to be a rushing whistle.

  Faunus turned to him with a triumphant grin. ‘See,’ he said, ‘he’s just below!’

  In his right hand, Faunus clutched the shaft of a large and deadly looking arrow.

  ‘What was your idea, then, Althea?’

  Clearly, Becky’s idea of being sequestered back at Greendale was a complete non-starter. She stared angrily at the two women. It was, she thought, a no-brainer. What better place to escape from Dr Faunus and his horrible sidekick than in a different world altogether, the world she really belonged in. Why did Hester Nye insist she belonged in this crazy place?

  ‘We feel,’ said the woman named Althea, ‘that we should take her to the palace of Basilius and leave her in his care. Faunus would not suspect she would be sheltering there and, even if he did, would not dare offer indignity to the old man. While the girl is there we can find some means of retrieving the flute.’

  Hester Nye considered this proposal. ‘It is an idea we could pursue,’ she said at length. ‘Although I am not so sure that Faunus would be concerned about offering indignity to Basilius. He has never worried about offending anybody before, king or beggar.’

  ‘He would need to know she were there, though,’ said Althea.

  ‘You’re right,’ Hester Nye decided. ‘And anyway, the girl only needs to be there until we have retrieved the flute, although that to me is the more difficult problem.’

  ‘They are bound together, though,’ Althea reminded her.

  Becky felt abandoned. Why were they talking like this? This sequestering nonsense irritated her.

  ‘Who is Basilius, anyway?’ she asked.

  Althea looked at her in surprise as if she had asked a particularly stupid question.

  Hester Nye said, ‘Once, Basilius was king of these lands, but that was a long time ago. He is now an old man and he lives alone in the ruins of his palace.’

  Becky looked at her doubtfully. An old man in a ruined palace wouldn’t seem to be much protection from a rampaging Silenus and a determined Dr Faunus.

  Hester Nye must have understood what Becky was thinking, for she added, ‘He is a man of great wisdom and much venerated. Few would dare to sully the sanctity of his house, and fewer to subject him to any indignity …’

  Except, thought Becky sarcastically, Dr Petrus Faunus a.k.a. Pan, the one person she was supposed to be protected from.

  ‘Holla! Silenus!’ roared Faunus. ‘I have your arrow. Come and collect it!’

  Johnny scrambled to his feet and crept as close to the back of Faunus as he dared. Did he really witness what had happened? How could anybody pluck a flying arrow out of the air as if it were a frisbee or a paper dart?

  The answer, he realised, was that anybody couldn’t, or rather, not any ordinary human. Only some creature with superhuman skills could do a thing like that. He remembered seeing Superman in a movie stopping bullets with his teeth then spitting them out, but that was just a movie. This was real, and the answer to his question that both comforted and frightened him.

  It was comforting that right now Faunus seemed to be on his side, but it was frightening to consider what it might be like to have Faunus not on his side.

  So far, Silenus had not answered. But nor had he unleashed another arrow.

  ‘Silenus?’ cried Faunus once more. ‘Are you coming up?’

  This time Silenus did reply. ‘Who are you?’ he shouted, but it was a rather confused shout.

  ‘If you come up, you’ll find out!’ cried Faunus. ‘And I might add, I have the boy-child with me, the one you were hoping to casserole!’

  ‘The devil you have!’ cried Silenus.

  This information appeared to motivate him, for now Johnny heard a scrambling noise as the big man below pulled himself eagerly up the hill. Johnny hoped he could trust Faunus. If he couldn’t, he was, as his father would have put it, dog tucker. No, he thought grimly, not dog tucker — Silenus tucker.

  Faunus stepped back to allow Silenus room on the small space they were occupying. In doing so, he almost trampled on Johnny who had to take quick evasive action almost falling over as he did so. From this rather defenceless position he gazed up at the perspiration-streaked red face of Silenus, who stared at him initially with surprise and then with pleasure. He then turned with a grateful smile to the figure still clutching his arrow.

  Abruptly, though, Silenus’s expression changed from gratitude to bewilderment and then to wonder. To Johnny’s surprise, the big man then fell on his knees before Faunus and gasped, ‘Master? Is it you?’

  ‘You know it’s me, you old rogue,’ said Faunus. ‘Climb up, for you have some explaining to do!’

  ‘Explaining?’ asked Silenus.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Faunus. ‘When the cat’s away and all that sort of thing …’

  ‘Cat?’

  ‘What have you to say for yourself?’

  Silenus looked at Faunus with apparent incomprehension, and then he glanced at Johnny and then back again to Faunus, smiling ingratiatingly. ‘Well, first I’d like to say how grateful I am you’ve found the boy-child. I’ve been scouring the hills for him all morning ever since … ever since I found he was gone.’

  Johnny looked fearfully at Faunus to see how he would react to this. There was little comfort for him there, as the doctor’s face remained impassive.

  ‘He’ll be just fine,’ Silenus carried on. ‘Not much flesh on him as you can see but I got some rabbits this morning and stewed with sage and a touch of tarragon he’ll be not too bad, and I’m more than willing for you to share …’

  ‘Silenus,’ Faunus interrupted grimly, ‘you may be interested to know that I liberated the boy-child from your chicken run.’

  The big man looked somewhat abashed.

  ‘You did?’

  ‘I did!’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Because the boy-child happens to be a particular friend of mine.’

  ‘He is?’

  ‘He is!’

  Johnny almost sagged with relief, almost hugged Faunus’s red-haired thighs.

  ‘I didn’t know that …’

  ‘I certainly hope not. And I would add that the missing girl-child, whom I have no doubt you also had culinary designs on, is also a very special friend of mine. In fact, she is very important to me!’

  ‘She is?’

  ‘She is!’

  ‘But, Master, you’re very wrong. I would have no intention of …’

  ‘Don’t lie to me, Silenus. You are a rogue and a fool.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes, Silenus, you are — a roguish fool and a foolish rogue.’

  Silenus swallowed, and nodded in agreement.

  ‘And I might add,’ said Faunus in a voice edged with steel, ‘that if you so much as salivate again at the sight of this boy-child or of his friend Rebecca, I shall turn you into a goat to add to your herd! Although, I doubt you could be a bigger goat than you are now.’

  ‘I doubt it too, I do, I do,’ Silenus agreed.

  ‘I also,’ continued Faunus, ‘have another bone to pick with you, or rather several bones.’

  ‘Bones, Master?’

  ‘Yes, bones, Silenus. Or more particularly the bones of one of my fauns. I understand you recently slaughtered the faun Sylvander and turned him into a stew?’

  ‘Did I?’ asked Silenus.

  ‘You know
you did, Silenus. What do you have to say to that?’

  ‘It was only a little faun, Master.’

  ‘Only a little faun? That’s like saying it was only a little murder!’

  Silenus hung his head.

  ‘That’s part of the problem,’ observed Faunus bitterly. ‘In my absence all my fauns have become little fauns. You would not have butchered a faun in days gone by, Silenus. They would have tripped you up and emptied the fat out of your eyeballs!’

  Still Silenus did not look up.

  ‘You haven’t found the girl-child?’

  Silenus shook his head.

  ‘I know you have been hunting her.’

  Silenus slowly nodded.

  ‘What about the flute? Do you know where that is?’

  This time Silenus did look up. ‘Flute, Master?’

  ‘The girl-child had a flute. It was in a black case. She left it in a room in your cottage.’

  Johnny, though cowed by Faunus’s authority, found the courage to say, ‘Becky hid it under some kidskins.’

  Silenus shook his head. ‘I know nothing of this. I remember the girl-child did have a black box but I knew not that there was a flute in it.’

  ‘It is no matter,’ said Faunus. ‘It was simply something to be sure of. I have a good idea who has taken the flute and who has taken the girl.’

  There was a pause after which Faunus handed the arrow to Silenus. ‘Here, and take great care at whom you let this loose next time. The gods help you if it should be a faun.’

  Silenus bowed his head, and took the arrow, which he thrust into the quiver hanging over his shoulder.

  ‘Regarding the girl,’ said Faunus, ‘I would talk further. I cannot take you to the sanctuary of the fauns, in their present pitiful state they would be thrown into a state of terror.’

  ‘Master, in that case, I would be honoured if you would come to my cottage. You must be hungry and it is meet that you should meet some meat?’

  ‘One of these days, Silenus,’ said Faunus dryly, ‘you might like to try thinking with your head instead of your stomach. But, yes, we will go to your cottage and share your table.’

 

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