“He asked the boulders on the borders of Mount Violaceous which of their caves would be a good hiding place and was informed that when the volcano blows, everything within the caves gets scorched—not an ideal place to hide garments of war made from leather and hide or tools made of wood. He enquired of the sands on the Beach of Bewilderment about the possibility of digging down and burying the treasure beneath them. He was reminded by a flock of passing puffins that the tarantulafish love shiny things and have a habit of scavenging along the beach. They were likely to dig up the treasures and use them out at sea to line their nests—no longer buried, the treasures could never find their way down to their masters when they reached Valhalla.
“Eventually, one day, at about dusk, Odin took a stroll through the Crimson Forest. He despaired of ever finding the perfect hiding place. He sat down at the base of a very young sapling to have a think about where oh where he could hide the treasures of Valhalla.
“Odin was sitting and thinking when the sun started its descent. Under the canopy of the Crimson Forest trees Odin was barely aware of the time of day. It was only when he felt the warmth of the final rays of the sun on his shoulders that he had a look around him and took in the setting sun’s play of light on the kaleidoscopic trees. The autumn leaves were multicolored and magnificent. There was already a colorful blanket of fallen leaves across the forest floor. Odin looked about him and took in the spectacle. ‘Beautiful,’ he thought to himself.
“As he sat there looking about him, the setting sun broke through the branches high above the young sapling where he sat. A gentle beam fell upon its leaves, and to the Viking god’s astonishment, the leaves sparkled purple. Odin had never seen such a thing. Yellowing leaves turning bright purple in the fading evening light. Odin addressed the tree. ‘How has this come to be, young sapling? Tell me the secret of your leaves.’
“The sapling turned its branches to Odin and said, ‘I’m afraid I cannot tell you, your godship, even if I wanted to. My poor mother here’—he twisted one branch in the direction of a solid, regal-looking oak standing protectively behind him—‘is forever fretting that I have some atrocious canker. All my friends keeps predicting it will spread to my branches and my trunk and finally my roots and that I’ll be rotted away to pieces in front of them.’ The young sapling started to sob.
“‘Nonsense,’ said Odin. ‘Your leaves are glorious and beautiful beyond belief. There is no sign of any illness or disease whatsoever. And I should know—I am a god! And we gods know everything. What is your name?’
“The tree stopped sobbing and looked at Odin. ‘Freakylief the Diseased, your godship,’ he said, and Odin patted the tree encouragingly.
“‘I shall rename you.’ Here Odin took a minute to think. ‘Henceforth, you shall be known as Rarelief the Splendiferous!’
“For the first time, Rarelief the Splendiferous felt real pleasure. His mother immediately turned to all the other trees to brag about her splendiferous son.
“‘And in recognition of your exquisite splendour,’ Odin went on, ‘I shall bestow upon you a great honor.’”
“Wow, a great honor,” Ruairi said, in hushed tones, then after a second, “What great honor?”
“What do you think, dummy?” Dani said. “He buried the treasure underneath him. Jeez, keep up.”
“Cool! Can we go looking for him tomorrow? Can we go treasure hunting, can we, can we?” he asked Mum and Granny.
“That might be a bit difficult,” Granny said.
“Why?” Dani and Ruairi asked together. Granny waited a minute.
Ruairi cottoned on first. “Because there are no trees on the island. Well, hardly any trees on the island.”
“Spot-on, Ruairi,” Granny said.
Ruairi looked to Dani and said, “Keep up!” Dani elbowed him in the ribs. “Stop it!” Ruairi said and shoved Dani.
“No, you stop it,” Dani said, flopping on top of Ruairi and wrestling him to the floor.
“Hey!” Mum said sharply. “That’s enough, you two!”
Dani and Ruairi ignored her and rolled around the floor flailing at each other and shouting.
“Stop it!”
“No, you stop it!”
“Leave me alone!”
“All right, that’s it. It’s time for bed!” Mum shouted.
Dani and Ruairi stopped midflail and looked up. “What?” Ruairi said.
“But you said we could stay up and hear the rest of the story!” Dani said.
“That was before you started behaving like hoodlums. Off you go. Go on. Up the stairs.” Mum settled onto the sofa and started reading her book.
“But”—Ruairi said, coming up onto his knees beside a similarly kneeling Dani—“you said!”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” Mum snapped, without looking at her children. “Good night.”
Ruairi and Dani glanced at each other and then back at their mother. “Sorry,” they both muttered together and stared at the floor.
“You started it,” Ruairi said under his breath to Dani.
Dani glared at him.
“What was that, Ruairi?” Mum said, raising her eyebrows.
“Nothing,” he mumbled. “We’re sorry; we won’t fight anymore. Please can we stay up?”
Mum’s gaze flicked to Granny, who was using the break in her storytelling to stuff her gob with whatever food she could reach from her chair. Given that she’d positioned her chair right next to the table, her mouth was positively laden.
“It’s up to Granny,” Mum said finally. “If she can bear the sight of the two of you a little longer, well, then, you can stay up.”
Dani and Ruairi sat side by side. They didn’t flop all over each other like usual—they sat stiffly, without touching, and shot reproachful glances back and forth.
Granny nodded, swallowed hard, and started again.
How to Conquer Yondersaay and Become its Lord and Master
“The Crimson Forest is only called the Crimson Forest,” Granny began, “because the islanders could never agree on a new name for the area. There are lots of shrubberies and bushlike plants and millions of tiny colorful flowers at certain points in the year in the forest but hardly any trees at all. Not nearly enough to warrant the title ‘forest.’ All the trees disappeared ages ago. No one remembers when. There are perhaps three or four trees on the whole island, and they’re all out of sight in the hollow of the Crimson Forest. And if the treasure was buried under any of them, it would surely have been discovered decades ago.
“Perhaps the naming of the area known as the Crimson Forest was just ironic. The island council voted to change the name a few years ago to Crimson Valley or Crimson Meadow or some such. There was a majority in favor, but it was quite rightly pointed out to the assembled crowd, probably by one of the MacAvinneys, that if the word ‘forest’ was to be rejected because of the area’s lack of forestial qualities, then the word ‘crimson’ should also be replaced because there was nothing remotely crimsonian about the place either. That’s where the islanders came unstuck. They couldn’t agree on a new word to replace ‘crimson,’ and so Crimson Forest remained the name of the area.
“On a sunny day in autumn, a long, long time ago, King Dudo the Mightily Impressive sat and chatted for hours with the only oak tree in the Crimson Forest—Rarelief the Splendiferous.
“Dusk was approaching, a time of day Dudo was eagerly awaiting. He was dying to see the tree’s leaves glisten purple in the last beams of sunset. Rarelief sensed this. Rarelief caught Dudo glancing toward the horizon, watching the sun getting lower in the sky. ‘It’s not going happen,’ Rarelief said.
“‘What won’t happen?’
“‘My leaves will not turn a sparkly purple for you, my liege—not for you.’
“‘Not for me? Why not?’
“‘You’re not from here, are you? My king, you were not born here, you do not rule it, you are not part of one of the island’s families. King o
f all the Danes you may be; a Yondersaanian, I can tell you, you are most definitively not. A tree whose leaves turn purple at sunset? Pretty easy to spot, wouldn’t you say? Odin would have said. Because Odin did say.
“‘In mortal fear that a plunderer, having heard tell a story of a purple-leafed tree, would crack through the island’s enchanted border, seek out your man with the purple leaves—that’s me, by the way—and shovel out my treasures, he shrouded my transformation from all but those who are born of this island and those who are part of the island’s clan. And for extra double sureness, he made the forest a haunted forest. He instructed all the trees and flowers and shrubberies in the art of effective haunting. That was a grand school, that was. So that if someone not of the island, some incomer, wandered in here, they’d be in no hurry to hang around.’
“‘What a pity,’ King Dudo said. ‘I was rather looking forward to seeing your leaves turn purple. Thank you for not haunting me, by the way.’
“‘Welcome,’ Rarelief said.
“‘Rarelief, I must tell you that all my life I have dreamed of adding this island to my kingdom. I had sort of flattered myself that the legend of the one king who will win the island and become its master was about me. I did get here, after all, and well, they don’t call me King Dudo the Mightily Impressive for nothing. I’d rather not go to war with the Yondersaanians, but conquering and pillaging and plundering is what I do for a living.”
“‘It wouldn’t do you a bit of good.’ Rarelief smiled benevolently. ‘You cannot take this island by warring alone.’
“‘You can’t?’
“‘No.’
“‘Well, how can you then?’
“‘There are two ways and two ways alone that this island could be yours. The first way you’d probably love, as it’d make powerful use of your plundering and pillaging abilities, but there’s no chance in a gazillion it would work for you. You cannot just make war with the island and the islanders, you know. Oh no. You must extinguish all in the ruling clan’s line. For starters, you’d have to ixnay old Baldy there, and for good measure, you’d have to do away with his daughter.’
“‘That would be exceptionally rude. They’ve both been so kind and hospitable,’ Dudo said.
“‘But even that wouldn’t do the deed for you. The jarl has a brother in Land of the Scots. You would have to go there, find him, kill him, and get yourself back here and claim Yondersaay as your own.
“‘Now, I’m not saying I know how you got onto Yondersaay yesterday. Because I don’t know. Nobody knows. But it’s beyond even an idiot’s reason that you could ever find your way back again. And then all the killing and the offing and the murdering will have been in vain. Sure, you might have enjoyed it, but if you can’t get yourself back to the island, then, you can’t become its lord and master.
“‘The other night, the jarl told me every single one of the islanders gathered on the shore to have a gander at you and all your mighty ships sailing by. Everyone could see you looking and looking and looking but not seeing. The children were having such a gas looking at you not seeing anything, they made the most odious faces and hand gestures at the lot of you. A couple of the young ones, I’m not naming names, broke into fits of the giggles.
“‘My goodness, didn’t a panic break out! The islanders thought they were done for then. They saw you look right at them, right into their eyes, as you floated mere yards away. You looked all around, and that spotty fella in the dress looked all around. Then you suddenly turned north and sped away. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief just then, I can tell you.
“‘So it’s a mystery, an entire, absolute mystery, how you managed to wash up on the beach like you did mere hours later.’ Rarelief looked at King Dudo, clearly expecting him to tell him the secret of his arrival on the island.
“King Dudo was silent. Rarelief continued.
“‘So you got here once, so you did, and no one has the foggiest how you managed it. It might be the case that someone helped you.’ Here, Rarelief paused again, hoping that King Dudo would explain. He raised an eyebrow branch. King Dudo sat and waited for Rarelief to continue, saying nothing. ‘Or,’ Rarelief continued, ‘it might be the case you found the island because you were not looking for the island. You were unconscious and half-drowned—you couldn’t have been seeking it out. At the very moment you reached the perimeters of the island, because you did not actively desire it, being unconscious and half-drowned, you were somehow able to wiggle yourself in through the enchanted boundaries and wash ashore.’ Rarelief paused. ‘Or it might be the case that somebody helped you,’ here he narrowed his bark eyes.
“King Dudo still said nothing.
“‘Someone would’ve had to have helped you. Because you washed up on the beach, and you’re not bewildered. Well, as far as I can tell.’
“‘Bewildered?’ Dudo said, bewildered.
“‘You’ll have heard about the Beach of Bewilderment, of course?’
“‘Nuh-uh,’ Dudo said, shaking his head.
“‘Well, if you happen to find yourself wandering alone on the Beach of Bewilderment, caught unawares, it has the powers to discombobulate you. There are instances of people who have gone stark raving bonkers because they happened to wander onto the beach when they had something on their mind. Take Bera Droplaug, the tanner’s daughter. She was puzzling out what meal she should serve when her prospective new husband Sverting’s hoity-toity parents came to meet with her. She got bewitched by the beach and forever afterward talked only about tapioca pudding and wore a rack of lamb on her head.’
“‘Bewildering indeed!’
“‘But, and I’ll say it again, you’ll not get yourself here twice. Someone would have to invite you, and as you may or may not have noticed, Your Kingship, the jarl is a kind and trusted leader, and he and his daughter are terribly loved. You’d find it hard to find a single islander on your side if they came to harm by your hand. In fact, everyone on this island would, in all likelihood, become your sworn mortal enemy. For life. To the death.’
“‘And the other way?’
“‘Pardon?’
“‘The other way you can win the island.’
“‘Oh, yes, the other way. That way is altogether nicer for everyone involved. I take it you are unwed?’ Rarelief asked the king.
“‘I have not found my Heart’s True Love yet,’ Dudo mumbled. ‘No. I’m not married.’ King Dudo could not disguise his sadness.
“‘You’re getting on a bit, aren’t you?’
“‘Hey!’
“‘Tad late to be worrying about your Heart’s True Love, if you ask me. Probably about time you face facts, settle, take what you can get. A king should marry and bear heirs.’
“‘I’m really not that old! Besides, what does it matter to you?’
“‘Because,’ Rarelief continued, ‘the only other way to become master of the island is to marry the jarl’s daughter. Then the island will legitimately be yours when the old man kicks the bucket, and much as I love old Baldy there, he does have a terrible wheeze on him, so I daresay he’s not long for this world. His daughter is a stunner, isn’t she?’ Rarelief asked.
“‘Hmm.’
“‘She is not to your satisfaction?’
“‘She’s very nice.’
“‘I see.’
“‘No, I mean, she’s lovely. She is beautiful and kind. I am certain she would make a loving and supportive wife. It’s just …’ King Dudo let out a big sigh. ‘She’s not my Heart’s True Love.’
“‘Well, you only just met,’ Rarelief said. ‘Give her a chance. Take her on a date; get to know each other. But don’t wait too long. I gather she is leaving the island soon.’
“‘How soon?’
“‘At the end of the week.’
“‘At the end of the week?’
“‘Yes, she accompanies her father to their country pile in the southern lands every year when the harshest of the winter months
set in. They take all their staff with them. Like I said, he has a bit of a wheeze on him. It gets very cold here in winter. Of course, you could wait until she gets back next summer,’ Rarelief continued, ‘but do you really want to spend months here on your own waiting for her to get back? Aren’t your men out there looking for you? Besides, if you wait, you might miss your chance. The jarl’s daughter is no spring chicken herself. She’ll be wanting to settle down soon too, I’m sure, and she gets a lot of attention when she goes south—her coloring being unusual in southern lands, her uncommon beauty goes down a bomb there. She’s always hotly pursued, and this year she might just say yes. She always says no, you see.’
“‘Why? As you say, she’s no spring chicken.’
“‘Some rubbish about waiting to find her Heart’s True Love.’
“‘Ah.’
“‘So, you’ll have to really make her fall for you if you want her to marry you. And you’d better get moving. You have three days and counting.’
“‘By the winged moustaches of Thor, that is not a lot of time!’
“‘It should be ample.’
“‘Ample? Are you kidding me?’
“‘Should be no trouble for a charming, impressive hero like yourself.’
“‘I suppose there is some truth in that, Rarelief. I am incredibly charming and incredibly impressive. I really cannot deny that. I have often been told as much. Often. There’s just one problem.’
“‘And what would that be now?’
“‘I was going to ask you, since you know so much about the island. There’s this woman—’
“‘Let me stop you there.’
“‘Huh?’
“‘Forget her.’
“‘Why?’
“‘If you have any interest in possessing this island and all its treasures and mysteries, and they are plentiful—’
“‘Yes, I know, you’ve told me all about them. In great detail.’
“‘If you truly desire this island, you must forget about this other woman and concentrate on the jarl’s daughter. She’s the only one for you.’
The Extremely Epic Viking Tale of Yondersaay Page 9