The Enchanted Flute

by James Norcliffe

  Becky gave him a sympathetic smile.

  ‘There is little left save a few shepherds, a few goatherds, some gatherers of olives and chestnuts, some elusive fauns, shadows of their former selves and a number of nymphs scattered here and there …’

  ‘I see,’ said Becky, although she didn’t really see. Basilius the King had told her what had happened, but not why or how it happened.

  ‘Ah well,’ sighed Basilius, ‘life is long and kingdoms are short …’

  Becky nodded, although she thought that it was probably the other way round.

  At that point there was a gentle knock on the door and the old lady entered carrying a tray with a pair of goblets and a bowl of grapes. She placed these on the bench between the old man and Becky, then bowed her head slightly and turned to go.

  ‘Wait,’ called the old king. He reached across the tray and laid a dry hand on Becky’s arm. ‘Do you like games?’

  Becky was not sure what he meant, but the question seemed harmless enough. ‘Sometimes,’ she said, unsurely.

  ‘Good!’ The old man clapped his hands. ‘Marina, bring us the tabula. We shall play.’

  Once again the old lady bowed slightly and this time left the room.

  Basilius handed her a goblet and Becky thanked him. He seemed a nice old guy, she thought, and possibly lonely. He had certainly made her welcome and she felt he was sincere. He looked to be very old, but his eyes were bright and interested in the world about him. She sipped her drink and it tasted sharp and fruity with a little sting to it. She suspected it was wine of some sort and noted that she ought not to drink too much. Basilius took a draught of his own drink and said, ‘Now, Rebecca, we have heard strange things about you and of what you have wrought.’

  ‘What have you heard?’

  Becky thought that this was the safest response.

  ‘We have heard,’ said Basilius, studying her with grave interest over the top of his goblet, ‘that you have come from a distant land bringing with you a flute of much enchantment, a flute that has encouraged Faunus himself back to his old self, so much so that he has felt brave enough to return to Arcadia.’

  Becky nodded. ‘More or less,’ she said. ‘But please don’t ask me to explain everything because it’s all too confusing.’

  ‘How can this be?’

  Becky thought about it. ‘I suppose it’s just that everybody I’ve met here seems to know far more about me and what’s going on than I do myself. I’ve learnt stuff from a faun, and I’ve learnt things from Silenus, and I learnt other things from Hester Nye, but I’m sure they all know more …’

  ‘Ah, Silenus,’ sighed Basilius, ‘such a wild creature.’

  At that point, the old woman, Marina, who Becky guessed was the old king’s housekeeper, returned with a large flat box.

  ‘Oh, good,’ said Basilius, ‘the tabula.’

  He shifted the tray to the floor and put the box between them. It opened up to become something that looked a little like a backgammon board. Basilius shook out a number of black and white polished stone counters and a pair of dice from a small leather bag and began to lay them out on the board. Their conversation was postponed as he explained the rather simple rules to Becky and then took her through a dummy run of the game. The stone counters were smooth and cold, and made a satisfying clicking sound when they banged together. Becky picked the game up quite quickly and before long they were playing companionably. Every so often Becky would pop a grape into her mouth, or take a small sip of her drink. It was peaceful and very pleasant.

  ‘Tell us, then,’ said Basilius, ‘your story as it happened to you, for you know we like an interesting tale almost as much as we like to play tabula.’

  Becky gave him a brief smile, and nodded. ‘If you like,’ she said. ‘You’ll probably make more sense of it than me, anyway.’

  ‘It is so indescribably frustrating!’ cried Faunus angrily. He wheeled towards Johnny. ‘Why when everything was at such a critical pitch did you take it into your stupid, stupid heads to come to Arcadia?’

  This was the moment Johnny had feared: the drink-generated anger. He lowered his head to his plate and said nothing. Experience had told him that this was usually the best policy. Silence did tend to irritate drunken interrogators, but a wrong answer could absolutely enrage them. He did have an answer though. Had he been brave or foolish enough, he would have said: We didn’t take it into our heads! We didn’t want to be locked in a room in a strange old house! All we did was jump out of a bloody window!

  ‘Well?’ Faunus demanded.

  Johnny looked up. ‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled.

  Behind Dr Faunus he could see the grinning red-veined face of Silenus, clearly hugely enjoying both the drama and Johnny’s discomfit. Johnny dropped his head again. He hated Silenus and he didn’t want either of the drinkers to see that hate.

  ‘Just two, perhaps three more sessions with the music and all would have been ready,’ said Faunus bitterly. ‘I had the flute. I had the girl.’

  ‘He had the flute! He had the girl!’ chanted Silenus.

  ‘My power could have been complete,’ said Faunus.

  ‘His power could have been complete!’ echoed Silenus, giggling until he was overtaken by a fit of hiccoughs.

  ‘She could have done nothing to stop me then,’ said Faunus angrily, turning quickly to glare at Silenus should he be tempted to parrot his words again. Seeing the glare, Silenus wasn’t. Instead he wobbled over to a large carafe and filled his goblet with wine, the beer having been finished some time before.

  ‘Then would have been the time to bring her to Arcadia,’ said Faunus. ‘Then she would have played for my fauns.’

  Johnny looked up. Faunus was often banging on about the fauns and how they’d changed. He was beginning to understand now what he’d had in mind for the fauns.

  ‘They’d be born anew,’ said Faunus, holding out his goblet for Silenus to fill.

  ‘The fauns reborn, the fauns reborn, the fauns redrawn with balls and brawn!’ sang Silenus, concluding the song with a belch.

  ‘She is here too soon,’ muttered Faunus.

  ‘Master,’ suggested Silenus, rubbing his nose conspiratorially. ‘We know where the girl-child is, we know where the flute is … Why do we not seize her and seize the flute. Seize them both and then …’ He shrugged, burped and giggled.

  Faunus stared at him. ‘You haven’t been listening, fool. I need more music. It’s a sore paradox. To get my powers I need the flute; to get the flute I need my powers! Do you not understand that, you dolt!’

  Silenus seemed amused by the insults and laughed mightily. ‘But you have been fortified by Silenus’s fine barley and better grapes, surely?’

  Faunus seemed to be considering that. He stared at Silenus for some moments and then shook his head. ‘I must not jeopardise this,’ he muttered.

  At these words, Johnny saw a small opportunity.

  If Faunus and Silenus were to attempt to retrieve the flute and Becky from the villa on the bluff they might, as Faunus feared, fail; or they might, as the foolish Silenus believed, succeed. Either way, they would need to travel to the villa. If he were to accompany them, then he might be able to find Becky once more, and somehow together they might be able to find a way out of this mess.

  ‘It doesn’t have to be win or lose,’ said Johnny.

  He had been so quiet that this sudden contribution surprised both Faunus and Silenus.

  Faunus turned to him curiously.

  ‘What do you mean, boy-child?’

  ‘Well,’ said Johnny carefully, ‘You’re talking as though you have to get the flute and Becky in one mad rush and that if you don’t you’ve lost the war.’

  Faunus looked at him.

  ‘I mean, what’s wrong with just going to this villa place anyway and checking it out? You could ask to talk to Becky, and you could ask about the flute. I reckon that would be a show of strength. You don’t have to rush in there like the Light Brigade or anythin
g.’

  Faunus stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘You reckon your powers, whatever they are, haven’t fully returned. But some of them have. I saw how you snatched the arrow. And look at you. You’re a lot different from that old man in the wheelchair.’

  ‘What are you saying, boy?’

  ‘I’m saying,’ said Johnny, ‘that the woman, the housekeeper woman, can’t really know how much of your power you have. I mean, you look pretty fit and all. They’ll probably be cautious.’

  Faunus glanced at Silenus and laughed. ‘I see we have a little strategist here,’ he said.

  Johnny shrugged. ‘It just seems a good way to go. It’s not rocket science. You know: softly, softly, catchee monkey!’

  Silenus had not heard this expression before and the line amused him immensely. He danced around the room repeating it time and time again.

  ‘Stop that, you fool!’ shouted Faunus.

  Silenus stopped in mid-step and fell silent.

  ‘And fetch your bow,’ said Faunus. ‘We’re going to make a visit to my old villa.’

  As she pushed her white stone counters up and down the tabula board, and as the old king moved his black counters in response, Becky told her story, beginning with the purchase of the flute and ending with her hurried journey down the other side of the bluff to this sprawling old palace.

  Basilius had listened carefully, almost without interruption, allowing Becky to relate her tale her own way.

  When she had finished, he sat thoughtfully for some time, and then said, ‘We fear the nymphs have good cause for concern if what you tell us is correct.’

  ‘Nymphs?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Basilius, mildly, ‘the maidens who have sequestered you with us.’

  ‘Does that mean that Hester Nye …?’

  Basilius nodded. ‘Oh, yes, although she no doubt has a more fitting Arcadian name.’

  Becky considered this.

  ‘Then how …?’ began Becky.

  ‘How did a mere nymph come to be ministering to a weakened Faunus?’

  Becky nodded. ‘I sort of thought Faunus lorded it over them. You know …’ She remembered Paddy’s blushing evasion. ‘Chased them and that.’

  ‘Oh, he did, he did,’ said Basilius. ‘And we are sure his purpose is to do so again. That is why he got into such trouble in the first place.’

  ‘Trouble?’

  ‘Yes, the nymphs were defenceless against Faunus and his rather more rampant followers, but the maidens did have a powerful protectress.’

  Becky waited.

  The old man looked left and right warily, as if he could be overheard, and then he whispered. ‘Her name is Artemis. A goddess. Such a powerful hunter she makes the fool Silenus look like an infant with a wooden spoon. She was becoming increasingly annoyed with Faunus. He is a madcap creature, full of high jinks and high spirits, but governed by his appetites.’

  Becky nodded. This was a familiar tale. Somebody else had said the same thing.

  ‘His problem was not knowing when to stop, when to let his sense rather than his senses take over. Then, as we are sure you’ve heard, he conceived a passion for the maid Syrinx.’

  ‘I know,’ said Becky. ‘The flute’s all bound up with her.’

  ‘Well,’ continued Basilius, ‘Faunus pursued Syrinx up hill and down dale and determined to seize her. This was the last straw for Artemis.’

  ‘The last reed?’ Becky suggested with a wry smile.

  The little joke was lost on the old man. He stared at her and nodded. ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘She became a reed. Some say she transformed herself, others that the other nymphs did it to rescue her virtue, but we believe it was Artemis herself who denied Pan his conquest.’

  ‘Still,’ said Becky, remembering her resentment when Paddy had first told her this story, ‘it wasn’t very fair on poor Syrinx. I mean, being a reed couldn’t have been much fun.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Basilius, ‘perhaps. But we are inclined to think that in the end Artemis was not so much concerned with saving Syrinx, as with punishing and denying Faunus.’

  Becky thought about that. It did make rather more sense.

  ‘And,’ continued Basilius, ‘Faunus has been bitter and angry ever since, and determined to prevail.’

  ‘But what happened?’ asked Becky. ‘How did he end up in a house with Hester Nye in our world?’

  ‘That we do not know,’ said Basilius, ‘except that his wild and reckless behaviour continued even after Syrinx had been transformed. He and his debauched followers would not let the nymphs alone. Now, Artemis felt a special duty to protect the nymphs. She could not let this rest. All we know is that she stripped Faunus of his powers, reduced the fauns to the harmless creatures you saw for yourself, and banished their master.’

  ‘I see,’ said Becky. ‘I guess he was banished to Landon Road.’

  ‘Who knows?’ said Basilius. ‘All we know is that he has not been seen in Arcadia these many, many years. It has in fact been put about that he was dead.’

  ‘He’s certainly not dead,’ said Becky, ‘although I have to say he didn’t look too crash hot when I first saw him.’

  ‘From what you’ve told us,’ said Basilius, after some thought, ‘it appears as though a nymph was charged to govern him.’

  ‘Hester Nye,’ said Becky. ‘She was angry when I turned up with the flute and tried to drive me away.’

  ‘And well she might,’ said Basilius, ‘for it appears from what you have said that Artemis hadn’t completely reduced Faunus. He clearly had some power left to enchant that flute and trust that it would attract … well, someone such as yourself.’

  Becky shivered a little.

  ‘I keep asking why me?’ she said. ‘And I seem to be getting the message from all over the place: from the enchanted wellspring, from the fauns, and even from Hester Nye, that I’m somehow some sort of reborn Syrinx. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all …’

  The old king looked at her sadly and reached for her hand. ‘Neither you should, my dear,’ he said, ‘neither you should. And we fervently hope you are mistaken.’

  Johnny had great difficulty trying to keep up with Faunus and Silenus, the first with his energised prancing and the second with his long, loping strides. The last stretch uphill before the plateau on the bluff had been especially taxing. By the time he reached the olive grove on the outskirts of the villa, he was quite puffed.

  He made his way slowly forward, a little unsure of what to expect. His plan had worked well so far in that he had been able to persuade Faunus to visit the villa. However, his plan really ended there. So much now depended on events he had no control over. Ideally, he would discover Becky at the villa, and somehow he would escape from the clutches of Faunus and Silenus and join her.

  The chances of doing that at that moment seemed dim even if the opportunity presented itself. There was no way he could get past the two creatures, both so much bigger and more powerful than he. Given that Faunus could snatch a flying arrow, a scurrying boy would present no problem, and Johnny certainly didn’t want to risk being brought down by an arrow shot from Silenus’s great bow.

  At the moment it was all a bit of an anti-climax.

  The house looked deserted as they had approached and it still looked deserted as they waited at the outer wall.

  Silenus glanced at Faunus. ‘Should I let loose a shaft?’ he asked hopefully.

  Faunus shook his head. ‘I think the boy was right,’ he muttered. ‘They are unsure of my power and will not show themselves.’

  ‘What do we do, Master?’ asked Silenus.

  ‘I will summon them,’ said Faunus. Then he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted. ‘Bring out the girl-child! Bring me my flute!’

  Johnny was astonished at the volume the creature generated. The sound was so powerful it almost blasted him backwards and it echoed and re-echoed about the surrounding hills. Flocks of birds rose into the sky in panicked flight. Joh
nny could not help grinning. It wasn’t exactly his idea of quiet diplomacy, either in volume or in reasonableness.

  Despite the din Faunus had made, there was no immediate response, so after a few seconds he repeated his demand, if anything even more loudly. This time, as the echoes died away, a door did open and a white-gowned figure emerged. She stepped into the courtyard at the entrance, and then took another step forward, but no more.

  She glanced coldly from Faunus to Silenus and then back to Faunus again.

  Silenus reached over his shoulder and removed an arrow from his quiver. He was already beginning to load his bow when the woman’s voice rang out clear and authoritative.

  ‘Silenus, you are ridiculous! Don’t be such a fool!’

  Faunus turned to his companion and, seeing what he was up to, gestured at him angrily. A little abashed, Silenus removed the arrow and replaced it in his quiver.

  ‘And you, Faunus?’ the woman said. ‘I hope you realise what you’re doing?’

  ‘Where is my flute?’ demanded Faunus. ‘And the girl? I want the girl.’

  ‘You may not have the girl,’ said the woman. ‘And as for the flute, don’t play such silly games. We know you have the flute, and if you knew anything about what was best for yourself and Arcadia, you’d give it to me now!’

  ‘You know I’ll not be trifled with Hesteria!’ shouted Faunus angrily. ‘It is my flute and I want it back! I’m not the one playing games!’

  ‘It is a trick,’ said the woman. ‘But I’ll not be fooled. It is a silly trick to try to get the girl.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘You may rest assured she’s not here!’ snapped the woman. ‘And it would give me great delight were you not here as well.’

  At that she turned abruptly and re-entered the villa, slamming the door behind her.

  Johnny felt quite deflated. Faunus and Silenus still barred him from the villa, but given the woman-in-white’s icy manner, he wasn’t sure there’d be much of a welcome for him there anyway. The woman had said that Becky wasn’t there. She could have been lying, but it did kind of make sense to hide Becky some place else. If so, then things had immediately become even more impossible than they’d been before. The woman, though, did have to be lying when she claimed not to have the flute. All the same, Johnny was impressed. As a liar, she was right up there.