by D G Rose
We are tiring now. The other cricket looks fresh. Soon it won’t matter what the rules say, because we won’t be able to avoid him.
The other cricket turns to face us, it’s clear that he knows we’re finished. The crowd holds its collective breath as he gathers strength in his mighty legs and springs at us. Then a sudden breeze whips across the pit, and catches our opponent under his wing covers and spins him around so that he lands with his back to us. Is it a divine wind, some kamikaze? Or just dumb luck? It doesn’t matter, we waste not a moment, and leap on his back and sink our jaws into the flexible joint behind his head. He screams and flails but cannot dislodge us. Finally, we feel the strong fingers of the Emperor gently prying us free.
The Emperor held us aloft. “My cricket is the victor!” He announced. Then he turned and whispered to the Minister. “I’ll expect notice of your retirement in the morning.”
The Emperor carried us back to the Imperial Apartments. He set us on the sill of the window and threw the window wide open. Then he opened our cage and pushed in his finger. We climbed on and he pulled us free of the cage. “Little cricket, you have saved the Empire and it’s Emperor. It would not be proper for an Emperor to owe a debt to a prisoner, so I grant you your freedom. Fly!” And he thrust his finger out the window. But we didn’t fly. We clung tight to his finger and he pulled us inside again. “I am touched, little friend. I admit I would be sorry to see you go. At least you shall have the run of my apartments. No more cage for you.” And he set us down on his own pillow.
But we still had plans. We jumped off the pillow, much to the Emperor’s delight, and flew to a writing desk that sat under an oil lamp. On the desk, we found a scrap of paper and an ink stone. The stone was dry but it sat nearby a small dish of water. By jumping into the water to wet our legs and then onto the ink stone we could gather enough wet ink on our legs that we were able to mark the paper. We gave silent thanks that the old priest had made us learn to write, even though we had resisted. The Emperor watched in shocked awe as we wrote our simple message. Just the name of our father and the name of our village. Then we cleaned our feet of the last traces of ink and jumped back to the Emperor’s pillow and drifted off to sleep.
While we slept the Emperor ordered his fastest riders to our village to bring our father to court. A few days later we were with the Emperor at his mid-day meal when a rider was announced. The rider, dusty and weary from the road, bowed low in front of the Emperor and knocked his head on the ground.
“Your Imperial Highness, as commanded I came directly from the village.”
The Emperor wiped his mouth with a clean napkin and tossed it on the floor, where a servant immediately picked it up and another servant placed a fresh napkin beside the Emperor’s plate. “And where is the man?” The Emperor asked.
“Your Imperial Highness. He refused to come without his son. You commanded us to use no force, so alternative transportation had to be arranged. I rode ahead to inform your Imperial Highness of the delay.”
The Emperor nodded and dismissed the messenger and turned to me. “This man you have requested is indeed arrogant that he places conditions on a personal summons from his emperor.” He said. “I admit it makes me all the more eager to meet him.”
Two more days passed before my father’s arrival was announced. The Emperor gave orders for my father to be bathed and dressed for court and to join us in the Imperial Gardens as soon as he could be made ready.
While our father was prepared, we awaited him in the River Pavilion, where the Emperor received only his most intimate and important visitors. We doubted that our father was aware of the honor being paid him.
Our father arrived sometime later and we were surprised to see a litter alongside him on which lay our boy body. We had imagined all this time that our boy body had died and that we had become a cricket to pay for our former wicked deeds. But this boy body wasn’t dead. It had the color of life and it breathed with a slow steady rhythm.
Our father bowed to the Emperor, knocking his head on the ground as had the messenger. The Emperor motioned for our father to rise and he did.
“I suppose you are wondering why I have summoned you. I admit, I am wondering too. Well, it’s all because of this marvelous cricket!” And the Emperor held us out to our father on his finger (no more cages for us). We could see recognition on our father’s face.
So, the Emperor told our father all about our time at the Imperial Palace and our father told the Emperor his story, how we had found and lost the cricket, how we had fallen down the well, how he had bought us in cricket form to avoid the lash, about our fight at the County Magistrate’s with the cricket and the rooster, and how our boy body had remained asleep from that time until this and how he and my mother had lost all hope that we would ever awake. And all in attendance, even the Emperor, shed tears at the terrible fate that had befallen us, all for the sake of a cricket.
Finally, the Emperor turned to our father. “I cannot give you back your son, but ask of me what you will and I will grant it.”
Our father cleared his throat, “Your Imperial Highness, forgive my boldness, but I hope that you can give me back my son. I’ve heard it said that the touch of the Emperor can heal the sick. If there is any truth to that, this is my desire that you lay hands on my son and give him back to his mother and me.”
The Emperor thought for a few moments. “I’ve heard this rumor too. Although I can’t speak to its truth as I’m not in the habit of touching the sick. But if this is what you ask, and if you will agree that no matter the result, our debt to you will be satisfied, I will try.”
Our father tried to speak, failed and nodded his agreement. We also felt the tightening of our throat that would have prevented us from speaking had we the power of speech.
So the Emperor rose from his seat, placed us on his shoulder, and walked to the litter where our boy body lay. The Emperor rolled back his sleeves and placed his two hands on our face. There was a spark of static electricity and a ripple of excitement passed through the assembled crowd. And then, nothing happened and a ripple of disappointment passed through the crowd.
The Emperor shook his head with a sigh and removed his hands from the face of our boy body. We were doomed to be a cricket.
It was like a whirlpool, it was like a thunderstorm, it was like passing through a crack in a wall to reach the Caverns Measureless to Man. We sat up in our litter, just in time to see the cricket on the Emperor’s shoulder fly away into the Imperial Gardens, forever free.
A cheer went up, and nobody cheered louder than the Emperor himself, except our father. When everyone settled, the Emperor addressed our father again. “We came to you, like Alexander, offering you anything you might desire. And you replied to us, like Diogenes, ‘Please stand out of my sun’. But such devotion, however hard-won it might be, should not go unrewarded. You and your family shall be given a home here in the Imperial Compound. And your son, when he is recovered shall be tutored in all the arts of statecraft. There will be many vacancies in the Imperial Administration in the coming days, and the Empire will need people with your boy’s character.”
Our father bowed low to the Emperor. “I do not wish to contradict your Imperial Highness but you don’t know my boy or his character.” Our father objected, like a man determined to talk his way out achieving his life’s dream.
The Emperor looked at us, where we sat on the litter still unable to speak, and he winked at us. “Oh, I think I know enough.”
CHAPTER 24 - It’s a little D&D isn’t it?
I found myself by the bank of a river, Amy and Christabel stood together.
“So, that was weird.” Said Amy.
“I told you it would be weird.” Insisted Christabel.
And by mutual agreement, no more was said.
“So…” I began. “Are we in Xanadu now?”
Christabel nodded, yes. “Close.” She said.
“I thought that was the last step.
” I objected. “Caverns Measureless to Man, Sunless Sea, Caves of Ice, Xanadu!”
Christabel nodded, yes, again. “Listen Bucko.” She said. “We are traveling to the home of the Mad Dreamer, the Living God. It’s not like a trip to Philadelphia with Interstates and mile markers. You get there when you get there. You get there when you’re ready.”
I shook my head, exhausted. “I’m ready. I’m so ready.”
Christabel held out her hands, palms up, and looked around. “Then you’re there. Oh, no, you’re not.”
“So, what’s next?” Asked Amy.
Christabel looked behind us. “Well, back that way is the Caves of Ice. And… we’ve already been there. So, I suggest we go this way.” And she took off in the direction away from the Caves of Ice and we followed.
We walked for a while and we came to a road sign, you know the old fashioned kind that probably never were in actual use, a crude wooden pole and some roughly painted boards. The board pointing back the way we came said, predictably enough, “Caves of Ice – Beware” and the board pointing ahead read “Quest Valley”
Amy read the name out loud. “Quest Valley. It’s a little D&D, isn’t it? Complete the Quest and win the reward!”
“Who said anything about completing a quest?” Asked Christabel.
“Well, is there a quest in Quest Valley?” Amy asked.
Christabel gave her a puzzled look. “It’d be a pretty stupid name if there wasn’t.”
“The Caves of Ice were literally neither caves nor ice.” I jumped in.
Christabel gave a little shrug. “Let’s just see what turns up, shall we?”
When we next came across a sign that said, “Quest Valley” I was happy to see that there was an actual valley. There were no ponies this time so we walked down the hillside into the village below.
We soon stood in the center of the village looking at an inn, The Two Tulips.
“Tulips are my favorite flower!” Exclaimed Amy.
“Oh?” Asked Christabel. “Why is that?”
“I like the velvety look of their petals, their intense colors.” Amy replied. “I like that they aren't especially fragrant. I like flowers as a pure visual experience.”
“Well, it looks like you’re in luck, since it appears to be the only inn around.” Said Christabel.
“What do you mean, appears to be?” I asked. “Don’t you know? Isn’t this all part of the quest?”
“I don’t know.” Christabel answered. “It’s all as new to me as it is to you.”
I doubted that, but I followed her inside the inn anyway.
We were greeted by a young girl. “Welcome honored visitors to the Two Tulips.” She said with a tiny bow.
“Three for tea, please.” Said Christabel.
The girl gave another bow. “I’m sorry, but we are out of tea. All that we can offer right now is some bread and pickled vegetables. Oh!” She added brightening, “And we have some beer.”
So, we ate a light lunch, which Christabel insisted on calling ‘tea’ even though no tea was served. The beer, however, was excellent. The Mad Dreamer, for all his many faults, maintains high beer standards.
After we ate, Christabel asked for two rooms. She did it with a smirk that I thought odd given her own varied and open displays of sexual appetite.
The girl, who appeared to be operating the inn alone, seemed uncomfortable. “I’m afraid it’s not a terribly auspicious time to be staying at the inn.” She said.
“Well, are there any other inns in town?” Asked Christabel.
The girl shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. We’re the only inn.”
“I guess we’ll take those rooms then. Auspicious or not.” Christabel held out some gold coins, which the girl took, reluctantly.
“What’s so inauspicious?” Amy asked.
The girl twisted her apron and looked down. “It’s that we’ve lost our family god, and now the inn is unprotected against ghosts and spirits.”
Amy caught my eye and mouthed the word “Quest”. I nodded.
“How can you lose a god?” Amy asked. And I was wondering the same thing. “I mean, it’s not like it’s a set of keys.”
The girl looked offended. “Of course it’s not like a set of keys.” She jangled her own keys, unconsciously. “The gods must be different in your village if you don’t understand how a family can lose its god.”
“Oh, they are.” I agreed.
The girl let out a huff, like it was a chore to explain the situation to us, but seeing as we were the only guests in the inauspicious inn, she continued. “Our family, the Ma family of Quest Valley, like all families of any standing, has its family god. I don’t know where they come from, maybe it was an ancestor of ours from long ago. Regardless, the family god is important. A family god will protect members of the family, their businesses, and property and a family god will intercede on behalf of the family with the greater gods, when necessary. In return, the family will dedicate its prayers and offerings to the family god. As I’m sure you know, the power of a god is proportional to the number and piety of its worshipers. So, the greater gods, who have thousands or millions of followers, are very powerful, while family gods of large families are stronger than family gods of small families.”
She bowed her head in shame. “The Ma family of Quest Valley is not very large. Although we do make regular offerings, as our numbers have declined over the generations, our family god has become more and more dissatisfied. After my brother was born, my mother could not have any more children.” She looked at us with a look of genuine anguish. “I’m practically a child myself! Should I have begun having children just so that an ambitious god could have more power?”
“No.” Amy whispered.
“Anyway.” The girl continued. “While our family shrank, our god was not idle. She began to neglect her duties. A ghost was seen in one of the rooms. A fire broke out in a storehouse and a quantity of wine was destroyed. Little things, things that the god should have attended to. But nobody realized her plan, she was storing up power to betray the family, the family that had supported her for hundreds if not thousands of years.
“One day, just a few months ago, when the river was swollen with snowmelt, a small boy slipped on the muddy bank and fell into the river. When he was pulled out, he wasn’t breathing. It was a tragedy, the kind that his family god should have prevented. But even families that have a vigilant god experience a share of misfortune. Then, as his lifeless body lay on the river bank and his mother wailed, a wandering stranger came along and seeing the boy, knelt down and breathed into the boy’s mouth and the boy revived. It was a miracle. The stranger said that he was a doctor and that he had been passing by when a woman appeared to him on the road and told him that his talents were needed by the river. He said that the woman has said that her name was Glittering Phoenix. Which is the name of our family god. Well, of course, the family of the boy, the Fong family of Quest Valley, made offerings to our family god in thanks, and even built a shrine by the river bank, where they regularly burn incense and dedicate offerings. How could they not? It’s considered bad form to offer to the god of another family, but the life of a child overrides good manners.
“Now that our god had two shrines and the offerings of two families, her power began to grow. Even to reach outside the valley. Another family claimed that after making an offering at the Glittering Phoenix shrine, their daughter was accepted to a prestigious school in the capital. Soon more and more families began making offerings to the Glittering Phoenix, and we were receiving less and less attention from our family god. One morning, as we made our offering, as we did every day, in our family shrine, it was clear that the god had abandoned us. The shrine was empty of everything divine. Now, they say that the Glittering Phoenix is the god of children for the entire valley. And our family is godless. Against my mother’s wishes, I went to the shrine by the river and made an offering, a measure of fine wine, to try to tempt
the god back to our family, but I received no reply.
“And that is why it is an inauspicious time to visit the inn. We have no god to protect you during your visit.” She concluded.
“Protect us from what?” I asked, with genuine curiosity, since I’d lived my whole life without the protection of a family god and I was beginning to think of that as a lack.
The girl gave a nervous little laugh. “Ghosts, goblins, ghouls, evil spirits of all kinds. Now that the inn is unprotected, nobody will stay here.”
Christabel closed her hand around the hand in which the girl held the coins. “We will.” She said. “And I have some experience with demons and such, so I doubt that the inn will be much bothered while we’re here.” She pressed another couple of coins into the girl’s hand. “And buy some food.”
The girl showed us up to our rooms and then returned to the common room. I always enjoyed having a room, since I didn’t have to carry that damned package with me everywhere I went. After organizing our sparse belongings, Amy and I lay down on the bed. It was narrow but soft. ‘Just the way I like it’, I thought as I wrapped my arms around Amy, who would never be more than a few inches away.
There was a quick knock on the door. “Everybody decent?” Christabel asked, already too far into the room for the answer to matter.
Amy propped herself up on an elbow to look at Christabel. “I have some experience with demons.” She mimicked. “I thought all your experience with demons was of the attracting them kind.”
Christabel shrugged. “Still counts as experience.”
Amy nodded. “More than the rest of us, anyway. So, what do you think? Is this our quest, or what?”
“Who said anything about a quest?” Christabel asked.
Amy flopped down in frustration. “Quest fucking Valley! There must be a quest, otherwise why even come here?”
Christabel, being Christabel, shrugged. “It’s scenic. Anyway, is what our quest?”