Seven for a Secret

by Clive Woodall

  Picking up on her mother’s intuitive question, Olivia probed further. ‘You didn’t say what type of bird this Septimus is.’

  ‘No. I didn’t, did I? Actually, I didn’t exactly say that he was a bird at all.’

  ‘Not a bird?’ cheeped Olivia, startled by such a revelation. ‘What is he, then?’

  ‘He is the oldest and the wisest...’

  ‘Oldest and wisest what?’ both robins asked at once.

  ‘Well. Wolf, actually.’

  ‘Wolf!’ cried Portia, making Olivia jump with fright at the very word. ‘You want my daughter to fly all the way to the Isle of Storms and pay a social visit to a wolf?’

  The older robin was incredulous, while the younger one was near to fainting.

  ‘I know that it is a lot to ask. I wouldn’t let her go on her own. I have chosen a companion for her. His name is Kopa.’

  ‘And who is Kopa? Is he a dog? Or a bear?’

  ‘Kopa is a chaffinch,’ Tomar answered, lamely.

  ‘So now the wolf gets two little snacks, instead of one. Are you mad, Tomar? How can you even consider this?’

  ‘We have no choice!’ The anguish in Tomar’s voice checked Portia’s retort. ‘I am sorry, but there is no other way. Don’t you think that I’ve tried to find an alternative? I’ve thought of nothing else for days. But we have to make the attempt, or else we shall all die.’

  Mother and daughter were silent for a while, giving the old owl time to compose himself once more.

  ‘Forgive me. I am just so frustrated at my own weakness. If only I were able, I would take this burden upon myself.’

  ‘On that long road, that you spoke about, you have played your part many times over, Tomar.’ Portia went across to the old owl and stroked his heart with her wing-tips. ‘You have done enough, my friend. This burden is one for others to carry.’

  ‘I am so afraid,’ Tomar responded, with tears in his eyes. ‘Afraid for the future of Birddom. For Man is set against us, in his casually brutal way. And, when the insects rise up against us, as they surely will when they realise that we have broken the pact...’ The old tawny owl’s great back seemed to slump, as if his wings carried too great a weight to be borne. ‘When that day comes,’ he continued, ‘it will be the end for all of us. Large or small. Brave or cowardly. It will not matter. Not a single bird will survive their onslaught.’

  ‘Then I must make sure that I succeed in my quest,’ Olivia said, simply.

  At that moment, the three of them heard a cry. It came from a point some distance away, but they all recognised the voice.

  ‘Merion,’ they called together. ‘Over here.’

  An exhausted robin emerged from the undergrowth, and all but collapsed at Tomar’s feet. ‘Thank the Creator that I found you!’

  ‘But what has happened?’ Tomar questioned him gently. ‘You look completely done in. Why are you in such distress?’

  Merion broke down and wept at the old owl’s words. ‘Forgive me,’ he gasped, through the tears. ‘Please forgive me, Tomar.’

  ‘There is nothing to forgive.’

  ‘Nothing!’ Merion exclaimed. ‘I have been such a fool. I have betrayed you and have rejected everything that you taught me. I have brought dishonour upon my mother and sister, and have shamed the name of my father, Kirrick.’

  At this, the two female robins closed to Merion’s sides and tried to comfort him.

  ‘It’s not so bad,’ Portia said. ‘You chose the wrong path for a while, that is all. What is important is that you are back with us once more.’

  ‘But I have seen such horrible things...’

  At the sound of his own words, Merion seemed to be jerked back to his former urgency.

  ‘Tomar!’ he cried. ‘I have terrible news. I have seen Traska!’

  *

  ‘What are we going to do with Calipha and her sister?’ Engar deferred to Traska in asking this question, tacitly acknowledging the magpie’s position of power in their relationship.

  But Traska was in playful mood. ‘What do you want to do with them? After all, you are Great Owl. Their fate is in your wings.’

  ‘I have a mind to be merciful,’ Engar announced, struggling to keep a straight face. ‘Perhaps my first act on being proclaimed Great Owl will be one of clemency. No one who knows me could believe that I mean them any harm.’

  ‘How noble and virtuous you are, Engar. Maybe you will sanction their release?’

  ‘That might not be such a good idea at this stage. Questions might be asked. Awkward questions. Best if they remain where they are for the time being. I am sure that you have made them most comfortable!’

  ‘They don’t seem as grateful for my hospitality as I would have expected,’ Traska smirked. ‘Well, they will just have to get used to it. They won’t be going anywhere for quite a while, until we decide the time and the place. Certainly, I don’t want Calipha anywhere near the next Council meeting.’

  ‘We must come up with something to prevent Tomar’s presence, as well. I know that he has no real right to be there any longer, but you know how sanctimonious he is. He might still consider it his duty to interfere. It’s only the remotest chance, I’m sure, but, if he does know something about us, I don’t want him gate-crashing and spoiling my moment of glory.’

  Traska merely smiled, but it was a cold, hard smile. Engar shuddered, just to look at it. The magpie had not uttered a word, but his message was unmistakable. Under no circumstances would Tomar be allowed to show his face at the Council meeting. Traska’s smile said it: the old owl wasn’t going anywhere.

  Tomar’s face was a mask of horror at the mention of that name. Portia and Olivia cried out, as if in pain.

  ‘It is not possible, Merion. Traska is dead. We were told that he had been shot. You must be mistaken.’

  ‘Do you think that I could ever make such a mistake? I will never forget that voice. His shape inhabits my nightmares. I would know that evil magpie anywhere!’

  Tomar looked at the robin with pitying eyes. ‘I am sorry. Forgive me, my friend. I do not doubt that you are correct. It is just that your words were such a shock to me. To us all. But I see that you speak truly. So, Traska is alive. That is ill news indeed. But now is the time for me to listen, not to make speeches. Please, Merion, tell us everything.’

  So the robin recounted all that he had seen and heard in the rookery, and at Engar’s nest-site. Tomar’s sorrow at the news of the death of Kopa was matched by his anger at the barbaric execution of Cian. It was an evil act, and demonstrated the depths of Engar’s depravity.

  It was Portia who voiced that anger for them all. ‘You were right, Tomar. You never trusted that owl. And here is the proof. He is a traitor and an enemy of Birddom, in cohorts with the corvidae. It is beyond belief.’

  ‘Sadly, it is all too believable,’ Tomar replied. ‘Traska still lusts for power. His kind have tried for total domination, seeking to rule by overt acts of slaughter. Now it seems that he has found another way. Covert action and an alliance so diabolical that not a soul in Birddom would suspect it. A tryst between magpies and owls. Allowing the corvidae to rule from within. Oh, Creator, what will become of us all?’

  ‘Do not despair, Tomar,’ Olivia said, reassuringly. ‘You still have your plan. Can it be carried out without the knowledge of the Council?’

  ‘It can, and it must,’ responded Tomar, positively. ‘Engar and Traska must not be alerted, in any way. Secrecy is our only chance of success.’

  Merion looked questioningly at the old owl. ‘What plan, Tomar?’

  ‘Before you arrived with your dreadful news, we were discussing an idea of mine. I feel that, in the not-too-distant future, we will have no option but to evacuate Birddom!’

  Tomar then proceeded to tell Merion about Septimus, and the hope of a future
in Avia. That same hope shone in the robin’s eyes as he listened to Tomar’s description of a paradise for birds.

  ‘Can such a wonderful place exist? It sounds too good to be true.’

  ‘Indeed it does, and yet I believe that there is such a place. Will you help us to find it?’

  Merion looked at his sister, and his smile held all the warmth of a summer’s day.

  ‘I am not sure that I deserve the chance. But I will be proud to undertake such a journey with my sister. I will do everything in my power to protect her and to make sure that she succeeds in her quest.’

  ‘Our quest, brother. Ours.’ Olivia responded, throwing her wings around Merion, and hugging him to her.

  Chapter Ten

  The owls had all returned from their country-wide missions, and had reported back to Engar. Their message was unanimous and unequivocal. Throughout Birddom they had received an almost ecstatic response to their news of the rescinding of Tomar’s edict. It seemed that birds across the land were in no mood for moral niceties. They were hungry, and here were the rulers of Birddom telling them that a feast awaited them. Few birds gave a single thought to the rights and wrongs involved in taking insects for food once more. Tomar’s pact was shattered for ever.

  Engar was exultant. The news of such a positive response swept away the last of his fears concerning Tomar’s continued influence in Birddom. The old owl was finished, once and for all.

  ‘Can’t we kill him now?’ Engar asked Traska. ‘I would really enjoy that.’

  ‘Don’t be such an impetuous fool,’ the magpie scolded. ‘Tomar will die when I say, and not before. You always underestimate him, don’t you? It is one of your biggest failings. Killing him now, before you are even voted for as Great Owl, would be a stupid mistake. You would make a martyr of him. No, we must stick to my plan. I will keep Tomar out of the way. He will become invisible. You will say nice things about him, in your acceptance speech, wishing him well and pledging to see to it personally that he is taken care of. Then, when the time is right, you will be able to announce, with all due solemnity, the sad demise of the former Great Owl.’

  *

  ‘You must go, without delay,’ Tomar said. ‘Time is pressing in upon us. Oh, has Birddom ever had three such enemies? Forage well, my young friends, though I fear that the fare hereabouts is scarce. Eat your fill. You will need every ounce of your strength to make the journey.’

  ‘We will do as you say,’ the pair of robins replied together. ‘But do not fear for us, Tomar. We will succeed in our mission. We will find Septimus, and he will show us the way into Avia.’

  With that, the two younger robins left their mother and Tomar, and flew to a more-densely foliated quarter of Tanglewood, where food might be more plentiful.

  ‘I am so worried for them,’ Portia said. ‘They have no idea of the perils that they may face.’

  ‘Neither did you, my dear, before you departed for Wingland. But you did not let it daunt you. Moreover, you left behind your children. At least they do not have to make that choice.’

  ‘That is true, my friend, and I am grateful for it. I do not know whether, given the choice again, I would have the courage to risk all for Birddom’s sake.’

  ‘That is not even in doubt,’ Tomar answered, firmly. ‘You have proven your bravery beyond any reproach. Yours is the stoutest heart in Birddom, my dear.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t feel very stout at the moment. But hush, here they come.’

  Merion flew back onto one of the branches in Tomar’s tree, his beak bulging with berries and nuts. These he deposited on the bough, and flew off again in search of more food. Olivia swiftly followed suit, and soon a large pile was gathered.

  ‘Let us take our meal together,’ Merion suggested. ‘It is a long time since we have had the opportunity to do so, and we may be gone for quite a while.’

  ‘A splendid idea,’ replied Tomar. ‘And a thoughtful one, too. I am humbled by your kindness. You are the ones going off into potential danger, and yet you think of a useless old fool like me.’

  ‘There is no creature in the land who is less like a fool, Tomar, and well you know it,’ Olivia countered. ‘Without you, we would not even know where to start. But no more talk. Our feast awaits.’

  Replete from their meal, the three robins and the owl slept for several hours. They awoke again at dusk, which seemed to Tomar to be a propitious time to be embarking upon a journey.

  ‘These are dark times,’ he said. ‘It seems appropriate that you should leave under the cover of night. If you fly hard, my friends, you should be well beyond the boundaries of Tanglewood before the moon reaches its zenith. You must then plan your progress carefully, according to your needs. You must balance the urgency of your mission against the risk of exposure to the many dangers that you face. Take great care of yourselves, my dear, dear young robins. Birddom is depending upon you.’

  ‘We will not fail,’ Merion answered.

  Olivia nodded in agreement. ‘We will not be beaten, by Man nor bird. Nothing will prevent us reaching the Isle of Storms.’

  ‘It is time to call the Council to order,’ Engar announced, with due solemnity. ‘This is the dawn of a new era for Birddom. We have serious business to attend to. Your journeys, in recent weeks, have been vital to the future of our land. Each one of you has reported back to me, and I know all of your news. But everything is not known to all here. Let us rectify that, if time permits. Be brief, be concise, but let every Council member know of the reality of the world that we serve.’

  This lengthy, and somewhat pompous opening speech nevertheless drew admiring glances from all around the ring of oaks. Not a single owl there dared to question Engar’s right to open the proceedings of the Council. His appointment to the position of Great Owl was yet to be ratified, but it was seen as a fait accompli. However, it was not until the fifth owl had made his report that the subject was broached.

  Creer, the long-eared owl, had flown far to the south of Birddom, and his report highlighted the ever-increasing threat of Man in the conurbations that were his stronghold in this part of the country. Spraying or netting had killed or injured thousands of small birds in the south. Food was scarce, even in the arable-rich areas, due to Man’s jealous possessiveness of his crops. Creer reported the delight of every bird in response to the news of the lifting of sanctions against eating insects for food. The softer southern climate, and the previous adherence to the ban, meant that there was now a vast proliferation ready for harvesting.

  ‘And it is down to your foresight and wisdom, oh Great Owl,’ Creer finished, ‘that Birddom is now in a position to reap the rewards. You have saved our land from starvation.’

  This comment drew a murmur of general approval, and one or two of the owls broke out into a ragged cheer. Engar held up his wing, and silence fell upon the other Council members.

  ‘I would like to thank Creer for his kind words. But although they are undoubtedly sincere, they are also somewhat presumptuous. In this present Council we are all equals. My voice is but one amongst ten. I stand no higher than any of my brothers and sisters here. It might even be asked whether we need a Great Owl at all. This new Birddom was ever intended as a democracy, and, at best, the Great Owl should be merely a gatherer and garner of the wishes of the entire Council, a summariser, not an autocratic law-giver. A voice to the thoughts of the ten wielders of power in the land. But it is dangerous for power to be wielded without responsibility, and it has always been the wisdom of the Council of the Owls that has led Birddom along the right path.’

  Stirred by the nobility of Engar’s rhetoric, Creer could not help but call out, ‘Will you lead us?’ and this call was taken up by every owl there. Nine voices, raised in unison, demanding that the barn owl should acquiesce. Engar called for silence once more.

  ‘Thank you, my friends. Your belief in my abilities humb
les me, and I am deeply moved by your loyalty and passion. I will serve Birddom as its Great Owl. It is an honour which I did not seek, but one that I am proud to accept. Particularly proud, as it means that I will be able to lead such a fine bunch of owls as yourselves. Thank you again, my friends. But we must once more move to business. Steele, we will hear your report next.’

  The old owl sat contentedly beside Portia, as they watched her children fly away, Portia’s chest swelling with pride. ‘So, the story carries on,’ she said. ‘Like a river flowing through time.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Tomar. ‘First Kirrick, then you. And now your children. It is fitting.’

  ‘And beyond them? What does the future hold?’

  ‘Who knows?’ the owl replied. ‘But they will shape that future. They carry it with them, in their wings. And who knows? Their children and their children’s children may play their part also, helping that river on its journey.’

  ‘I hope so, Tomar. It comforts me to think so, especially in these dark times. But what part will I play? I may be getting old, but I am not yet nest-bound. Is there anything that I can do?’

  ‘It may seem arrogant of me for saying so, but I believe that you can serve Birddom well by keeping me alive, my dear friend. I still believe that I have one final part to play in the drama to come. My enemies believe that they have diminished and side-lined me. As such, I am sure that they will not long feel any need to keep these old bones from the earth. I need your help, Portia. Sustain me against their cruelty. I have been given a glimpse of the future. Not for me an honourable death. Engar and Traska want to see me suffer. I am sure that their plans for me involve a slow starvation, and an ignominious end.’

  ‘Well, I will not let that happen, not while there is a single breath left in my body, Tomar. I will protect you and keep you alive, as best I am able, so that you can, at the final end, save us all.’