by Payne, Lee
Neither of the twins said anything so he continued. "Actually, I found the image of the three of us dancing our way across the stars rather picturesque. I saw Leahn depicted as a rising column of fire which seems accurate and our friend, Ohan, was shown as the heart of the forest. It all had a certain allegorical quality but I found no . . . "
"Wait a minute," Leahn interrupted. "Back up a little. 'Leahn as a column of fire seemed accurate.' Is that what you said? I saw it too and I didn't think it was at all accurate. The old man back at the lost city talked a lot about people going up into the sky in white towers and flames but he didn't once mention my name. How do I get to be represented as a pillar of white fire?"
"If you'll cool down a little, my dear, I'll explain why the world sees you as a white flame." Leahn continued to glare at him. "Not funny, eh? Very well, I promise to answer your question by first asking two of my own. We're agreed that we all saw the same things in the world's dream?"
Everyone nodded.
"That brings us to our individual dreams. Let's each of us reveal what happened before we eavesdropped on the world's dream."
He looked around the circle of firelight. "Very well. As there are no volunteers, I will begin by confessing that I found it an equally fascinating experience, almost as if one's mind was able to move about freely in the real world wherever it wanted to go without having to drag the body along. As soon as I discovered the apparent nature of the phenomenon, I happened to drift through the wall to the women's steam room next door. There was no one there so I willed myself up through the trunk and out over the forest. It was an exhilarating feeling, very much like a bird must experience. I flew out and visited our next destination, checked out the lay of the land, so to speak." He turned to the twins. "What about you?"
Elor answered for them. "Erol drank from all three cups and breathed deeply of the various aromatics. I, on the other hand, appeared to drink but did not. I also slowed my breathing to the minimum required for life. It had no effect. I was as much swept into the alternate state of being as was my brother. Whether this came to me through his mind or through the substances or suggestions present in the room itself, I cannot say. In any event, once we discovered, as you said, the 'apparent nature' of the experience, Erol went back to check on our ship at the spaceport while I, like you, went off to scout our next objective."
"Well and efficiently done, as usual, gentlemen. Ohan, what about you?"
"Me? Oh, well, I didn't actually go anywhere. I've done it before. I usually like to go soaring, sometimes to the Eye of God almost. And then I dive down to the treetops. It's very exciting." He stopped talking but the rest sat waiting, as if expecting him to continue.
" . . . but I didn't actually go anywhere . . . this time . . . actually."
The Commodore cleared his throat. "I sense a certain reluctance on your part, my boy, to share your experiences with the rest of us. I would remind you that it is not idle curiosity that prompts our interest, but rather a spirit of scientific inquiry and an attempt to discover the truth about our experience. If you went browsing among the ladies' bedrooms, I'm sure everyone will . . ."
"No. It's not that, exactly. Actually no one uses the women's steam bath or anything like that when they know a dream session is in progress. That was one of the first things I learned when I came of age in my own clan."
He paused. The rest were still waiting. "All right! I thought of one of my teachers at school but her image just broke up and drifted away. Then I thought of Leahn and how pretty she was in that new dress and there she was and we just stood there. We didn't do anything."
He looked up in anguish to see Leahn looking back at him. She smiled. The Commodore grunted. "Well that was certainly an earthshaking revelation. Now you, my dear. What did you do?"
Leahn's smile faded. "I went home," she said quietly. "To my father's study. My uncle was there, sitting in my father's chair beside our big stone fireplace. It was odd. I just hovered there near the ceiling in a dark corner and stared at him and he started to get nervous, to look around. He got up to close the windows but they were already closed. He paced around the room as if he were looking for something, then stormed out and slammed the door.
"I was alone in my father's study. It was funny. I'd been there a thousand times but I'd grown up with it, taken everything for granted. I'd never really looked at it before. I drifted down from the ceiling to the middle of the room and looked around. Most of my father's things were still there. There were some baskets hanging on the walls, the same kind the people use. There were a number of bluestone figurines and some pottery, not the broken pieces that we've been finding, but whole pieces."
She paused and stared again at Ohan. "And on the wall above the fireplace, right where it has always been, was this rug. Only it isn't a rug. It's a forest person's skin. It's not square like the one in the pyramid. That one was cut from several torsos and sewed together. The one over our fireplace is a single pelt. There's no head or hands or feet but you can see where the arms and legs have been cut lengthwise and opened out. It's been there all these years in my father's study. A person's skin." She buried her face in her hands.
Ohan sat stunned. No one spoke. He turned to the Commodore who gave him an exasperated look and motioned toward Leahn, Ohan rose and went hesitantly to her side, knelt beside her and put an arm tentatively around her shoulder. She wasn't crying but with her face still in her hands, she leaned against him and he held her tightly in his arms. He silently cursed himself for having to be told what to do.
"Well, children," the Commodore said after a while, "shall we postpone the rest of our fact-finding session until later?"
Leahn looked up, her eyes rimmed with red. "No. Go on with it."
"Very well. Where were we? Oh yes. Ohan would you tell us another of those stupid horse and cat fables?"
"What?" Ohan and Leahn said together.
"Trust me."
***
A mighty horse was wandering lost in the forest. He was a powerful animal but every turn he made led him farther from the path and deeper among the trees.
It had been a bad year in the forest. Dry winds had come among the treetops in the dark of the night and had stayed. The warm breath of the forest no longer mixed with the moist air from the sea to form the morning mist that washed all the treetops and collected in the myriad pools hidden among the topmost branches.
The forest continued to breathe its warm breath into the air but the hot winds took it and gave no moisture in return. The water grass stopped growing fat and wet. It saved its moisture by growing thin and dry. The little treetop pools were drying up and the thousands of tiny creatures who lived in and around them were dying. Without these tiniest creatures, the bigger ones began to go hungry. Without the bigger creatures, the forest cats began to suffer.
They cried to the King of the Cats, "Do something. If the moist winds do not return soon, we shall perish."
Even before they came to him, the King of the Cats had been thinking and thinking. He knew he could not change the winds. They blow where they will with little regard for the needs of cats. He knew that the trees would survive until the moist winds came again because they could reach down deep into the ground where the hidden rivers flowed. It was only the animals who needed water if they were to survive.
The only water he knew of was in the hidden rivers and the only way he knew to get it was to topple a water tree. But that, he realized, was a foolish idea for though cats could gnaw away some of the smallest aerial roots and undermine some of the larger ones, there was absolutely no way that cats, even all of them together, could topple a mighty tree.
The great horse was also having an unpleasant time in the forest. He was lost, the grass was thin and dry and his plated skin prickled and itched for want of a bath.
The King of the Cats watched from the lower branches as the horse wandered in circles through the trees, complaining and trying to scratch his armored hide. It occurred to the King of
the Cats that this horse could help him find water but he knew that horses were selfish beasts who might refuse to share that water. He also knew that horses did not know the secret of the water tree and for some reason, the King of the Cats hesitated to tell them.
But as the dry winds continued to blow and the cats got hungrier and thirsty, the King of the Cats knew he had no choice. He would have to trust this horse with the secret of the water tree.
The King of the Cats walked out on a low branch and called down to the horse. "Good day, mighty horse. I wonder if you could spare a few moments to assist me. It wouldn't take long and I would be very grateful."
The horse looked up at the King of the Cats and snorted. "Assist you? Don't make me laugh. Go away. I have problems of my own."
The King of the Cats scurried down to a high root. "I'm sure you're busy. It's just that all the forest creatures are very thirsty and without your help in obtaining water, we shall surely perish."
"Obtain water?" The horse pawed the ground impatiently. The King of the Cats was just a bit too far away for the horse to lunge and grab him with his powerful teeth. "You waste my time with talk of water," he snarled. "You insignificant little bloodbiter. There is no water anywhere in this accursed forest. But do come just a little closer and tell me how I may assist you."
The King of the Cats took a hesitant step closer to the great armored head with its massive teeth. "Well actually there is water nearby—a large deep pool of it beneath one of the trees—but we need your help to get to it."
Now the horse was interested. "A large deep pool of water? Nearby? One that I could roll in to soothe my itching hide?" He eyed the King of the Cats suspiciously. "You must think me a fool, you insect. Everyone knows there is no open water around here."
"Let me show you where it is," said the King of the Cats. "I'll even ride on your back and if I'm lying, you can reach right around and bite me."
Now this seemed a pretty good deal to the horse. He really needed a deep drink and a roll in the mud and if there was water here in the forest, he and his friends could come and live here. They could become lords of the forest just as they had already become lords of the plains and highlands. And if there was no water, he would still have a chance to chomp this pesky King of the Cats. "Climb on," he said. "I shall be happy to be of whatever assistance I can."
So the King of the Cats climbed onto the horse's broad back and off they went through the forest. Soon they came to a large water tree where the King of the Cats had already set the forest creatures to work digging at the roots. When they heard the horse's noisy approach, the creatures ran and hid but when they saw the King of the Cats riding on its back, they were filled with wonder.
"Come out, come out," called the King of the Cats. "This kind horse is going to help us get to the water."
"You have tried to deceive me, cat." The horse turned to take aim at the King of the Cats. "There is no water here, only a bunch of pitiful thirsty creatures scratching in the ground around a tree."
"No, no, you don't understand," the King of the Cats cried as the big round eye glared at him from beneath the armored brow. "This tree sits over the pool of water like a stopper in a gourd. All we have to do is pull it out. Look. The ground birds and tuskers have scratched and rooted all the dirt away from the roots. The cats have shredded the roots' protective bark so the wood worms can bore out the insides. And high overhead, the birds have cut away the branches that are intertwined with the other trees and would keep the water tree from falling. Even the mighty nightbird has come down from the clouds to help. He has used his sharp talons and curved beak to slash away the entangling creepers, for he knows that if we all die of thirst, there will be no animals for him to snatch from the treetops and carry off to feed his young."
The horse was amazed for he had never seen one of the dark nightbirds close-up. But there it was on a branch above him, its big eyes regarding him coldly.
While the horse's attention was directed upward, the King of the Cats leaped from his back to a nearby aerial root. Being so close to those teeth made him nervous. "What we need now is someone with your great strength to pull the tree over and there will be water enough for all."
The horse snorted scornfully. "Indeed you do need my help. But I don't need yours. All I have to do is push that old trunk over and if you have not lied, and there really is water under there, I shall bring my friends into the forest and, after making a few alterations, like knocking down most of the trees where you foolish cats like to play, we shall take over."
With that, he put his massive shoulder to the trunk of the water tree and began to push. He pushed and he pushed and he pushed. He snorted and he puffed and he pushed again with all the power in his great body and the water tree did not budge.
The horse looked around for the King of the Cats and spied him sitting quietly on an aerial root nearby. "You lied to me, you rotten little worm. As soon as I catch my breath, I am going to stomp you. You have no water and you won't be able to hide in your treetops forever. I can go far longer without water than you. You'll have to come down someday." He rubbed his sweaty itching hide against a tree trunk. "And when you do, I'll stomp you and have a nice warm drink of your blood."
The King of the Cats regarded him coolly. "You're right about the rest of us needing water now if we are to survive. Even as large as you are, you will need it eventually and we can get it if we all work together. The birds can cut vines and creepers. We can weave them into a harness for you. We can tie it to the topmost branches of the water tree so that when you pull, the leverage from the top will bring it right over.
"But if we help you," the King of the Cats said, "you must promise to keep our secret. You must promise not to bring your friends here to destroy our trees, for each tree has its purpose. The forest is like a great woven fabric. If you pull any of the threads out, the rest begin to unravel. Each of the creatures here depends on all the others for its life. If you and your friends come in and change things, many of us will surely die."
The horse laughed. A horse laughing is a terrible thing to hear. "You make me tired, trying to strike bargains with me. Weave your harness and I will pull your tree over. If there is water there, I will bathe in it and then I will bring my friends and we will rule your forest. You will have water now and your children will have to find some place else to live. If you do not weave the harness, I will go on my way and you will all surely die and your children won't have to worry about finding another place to live because you won't have any children. You have a choice. You can die now or your children can die later. It is all the same to me."
"You are right," sighed the King of the Cats. "If we do not help you, the forest will survive but all of us will die of thirst. If we prove to you that there is water here, we will survive but the forest will eventually be destroyed."
He looked around at the other creatures. "It is a difficult choice but I am the King of the Cats and my decision is that we must have water now. We will weave the harness."
The horse smiled. "That is the choice I thought you would make. It's much easier to contemplate the future when your stomach's full of hay."
All the forest creatures worked together to weave a great long harness that fit around the horse's broad shoulders and was tied in dozens of places to the topmost branches of the water tree. The high roots on one side of the trunk were cleared away and the tuskers smoothed a path along which the horse could pull.
When the harness was in place, the King of the Cats asked the horse one last time if he would not reconsider his plan to tell the others the secret of the water tree.
"Foolish cat," he snorted. "You have saved your own miserable lives but you have traded away your children's birthright for all eternity. I need my breath for pulling this tree down, not for talking to the likes of you." He pulled the ropes taut and then gave a mighty heave.
The great trunk trembled. There were cracking noises high in the branches. The horse gave another pull. The ground sho
ok and sounds of ripping rose from beneath the surface. He gave another heave and the tree began to move, slowly at first, then more rapidly. He was surrounded by snapping and tearing noises and the ground trembled and the horse tried to run off to one side but some of the vines in his harness were tied fast to trees beside him. He tried to run to the other side but he was tied by vines there as well.
He tried to run to the far end of the path out of reach of the falling tree but it was coming faster and faster. It landed with a mighty crash that shook of the forest and drowned out the last terrible shriek of the horse.
As the King of the Cats sat cleaning the drops of water from his whiskers, he said to no one in particular, "Sometimes, if you're very careful, it is possible to have your cake and to save it for your children too."
***
"A pretty tale it is, lad." The Commodore poked at the embers of the campfire and watched the sparks drift upward. "And popular with the children, you say? As well it might be, for it tells of how the forest people defeat the invaders. Whether that was the case in real life remains to be seen."
"What do you mean?" Ohan asked.
"Ah ha!" Leahn said triumphantly. "That's what I thought the first time Ohan told us one of these stories. The horse is the intruder. The cat is the forest native, protecting it and keeping its secrets. Ohan's people must have originated these stories. I never heard any of them as a child in the highlands. The cats represent Ohan's people."
"Indeed they do, my dear. And a sneaky, shifty bunch of cats they are too. If Rudyard Kipling and I hear one more story where a poor trusting horse if flummoxed and hoodwinked by a . . . "