Harry the Rat

There was no way getting away from it. The growths on Harry’s back had spread. There was now a discernible weight forcing down onto his spine. At first he had tried to shake the feeling off. As he turned from side to side the growths had became more and more rigid. His tiny feet felt stiffened as he scuttled along the earthy tunnel. He kept stopping to take extra breathes and he senses a permanent weariness. He stopped and nuzzled at the earth walls of the side tunnel. His nose twitched but with a slightly sad motion.

 Usually Harry was the happiest and most vibrant of the younger rats in the colony. He usually played endlessly with his brothers and sisters scurrying along the tunnels and crawling along the garden above.

Perhaps if he stayed in the side tunnel no one would notice the changes. They had started a few weeks before. While he was waiting a familiar sound came from down the tunnel. A whistling sound was followed by the sight of Paula his friend. She glanced down the tunnel with her usual impatient, clever eyes.

“What are you doing there Harry old pal” she said cheerfully thinking him to be playing a game of some kind. Her eyes sparkled with the expectation of laughter.

“Oh, oh” Harry replied trying to some normal and equally cheerful as his friend. “Just taking a break” he sniffed the ground to disguise his melancholy expression. “Oh well come along with me “smiled Paula lets go and explore a bit mmm.” Paula was the kind of smart, quick thinking rat who adored challenges and was always suggesting an adventure of some kind.

“Ok” agreed Harry a bit sheepishly. “You go on ahead and I will catch you up”

“Catch me up!” laughed Paula with sparkling eyes, “you can’t catch me! Never in a million years“ she laughed and sped away down the tunnel. Harry edged into the main tunnel. His back was throbbing. The ache filled his whole body. He needed to check on what was happening on his furry back. He didn’t follow Paula but doubled back slowly along a narrow tunnel that led some way down to a central cave. A couple of small rats were napping in the corner. Along the walls there were a collection of interesting objects that the younger rats had discovered. There was an old watch next to some shiny paper and a series of shells and stones. Harry edged up to the shiniest stone and looked at his reflection. He gasped. His worst fears were confirmed by what he saw. In the gloom of the cave Harry could make out a line of tiny shapes on his back. The bumps and growths had developed and developed. As Harry squinted he could see a line of tiny, tiny buildings on his back. A tiny tower stood next to a line of houses and a kind of tiny castle that spread along his back to just above his tail!

The small rats were snuggling together in the corner snoring lightly when suddenly a bigger rat poked its head into the space. Uncle Rat sniffed the air and immediately looked toward Harry.

“What are you doing over there?” asked Uncle Rat, “why are you out with the others harvesting?” (Harvesting was the term the rat colony used for scavenging for food and nesting materials) Uncle Rat spoke with an air of severe authority. His eyes burnt with a strong stare.

“I’m sick” Harry blurted out. “I’m just resting here for a bit”.

“Resting! Resting! “ boomed Uncle Rat with a loud burst that woke the two youngsters in the corner. “What’s wrong with you? Scared of mice are you? Get out there you little lazy rat!”

Harry moved slowly out into the cave and Uncle Rat’s eyes widened suddenly! “What on Earth!...“ he began to stutter. He sniffed at Harry and then studied him from twitching nose to scratchy foot.

“What is that on your back?” he boomed again and the two young rats ran in fear out of the cave. Open mouthed Uncle Rat stared and stared at the strange shapes on Harry’s back. He sniffed and stared and then stared and sniffed. He was dumbfounded. Silence filled the rat cave.  After a long time Uncle Rat said quietly in a thoughtful manner. “Come with me “....

The Rat council gathered in the special meeting cave. Some of the rats were very, very old and wore emeralds and silver around their tails. There was a piece of broken glass squashed into the earthy wall and a line of shiny green and amber pebbles around the edge of the floor. The rats were all different shades of black and brown. One huge old rat spoke in a faltering aged voice.

“We have spoken here together for many hours. We have decided in our wisdom that the only course of action available to us as a nation of rats is....” she paused. Harry who sat in the corner of the cave looked up. There were 20 or more rats lining the cave. All of them had powerful and aged eyes. All of them were staring at him. Harry felt his whole body tremble with fear and anxiety.

“You will be expelled from the colony never to return Harold” said the old rat.

“Harry “hissed another rat “the youngsters name is Harry “.

“Yes, yes Harry “said the old rat in a fading voice. She coughed and then spoke again. “

How this magic can be stopped is beyond us. We must think of our colony. Apart from anything else those shapes will cause absolute havoc on our carefully constructed tunnels!”

 “She coughed again. “Go and never return” she said firmly sniffing the air.

Harry found himself in a garden. There was rubbish strewn here and there. An empty crisp packet blow past. Harry dived toward it and licked the inside. The salty taste filled his mouth. His hunger was so deep inside him now that it seemed to weigh him down. He shook his body. The town on his back creaked and stilled. Across the garden a fence led down toward the river. A high tree shrouded this end of the garden in darkness. Harry stopped sick and tired. After his expulsion he had walked far from the old colony. Sometimes he used other tunnels. This was dangerous though because other colony’s might take a very dim view of a stranger using their tunnels especially a rat that looked as strange as Harry now did. He sipped at a tiny puddle of water caught in a leaf. The rain began to patter down. When he was in the old colony he had always love the patter, patter of rain. Now Harry felt dejected and hungry. He missed his old playmates with all his heart. Most of all he missed the familiar smells and sounds of the colony. He missed the old rats and the young rats who were all part of his extended family. He hated being alone. He thought of his future and it seemed very bleak. The rain began to pour and Harry shivered. He thought of running to the river and jumping in. That would end his torment once and for all. He hated the feeling of loneliness. He missed the company of rats like clever Paula. He wished that he was as clever as her. “She would know how to solve all this awfulness ” he thought glumly to himself.

A leaf above him suddenly rustled and Harry glanced up ready to run for cover. He nestled down in the wet earth trying to conceal himself as best he could. The rustling continued.

 From above a shape dropped into view just a small distance from Harry. Harry braced himself. He was getting ready to run. A long elegant claw came into Harry’s view. Then another claw appeared. A beak plucked down at the leaves. The beak was black and shone with rain. Harry stayed very still. The beak plucked a wriggling shape from between the leaves. The worm wriggled and struggled as the sharp beak flicked it up again. Harry took his chance. He scuttled quickly away. Whatever it was eating the worm would surely be too busy to follow him. Harry moved as quickly as he could into the pile of leaves and kept going head down. As he came to the base of the tree he leapt across toward a patch of grass where there was a green fence. As he headed under the fence he heard the rustle of wings and the claws appeared directly in front of him. He glanced up instinctively. A dark mass of black feathers glared back. A pair of glassy eyes stared at him with open hostility.  The beak opened slightly.

“What are you doing in my garden” hissed the crow. His beak gleamed with rain. “We don’t allow rats here “he hissed threateningly. Harry froze. He realised that the crow could peck him at any moment. He sighed and said, “I’m sorry. I’m sick and had to leave my home. I didn’t know this garden was only for crows”. His voice was a pathetic, low squeak.

The crow stared for a moment. He looked Harry up and down. “What is this thing on your back?” He went close to the tiny town that had grown there. “What is this magic?” he asked.

“I don’t know “said Harry in a burst of anguish” I just want it to go. I just want to return to my colony one day. I hate being far from my friends!”

The crow listened and thoughtfully backed away from Harry.

For a long time there was a silence between them. The rain gave the only sound. The crow looked at Harry for a long, long time.

“You are hungry aren’t you “he said and Harry immediately nodded.

“Wait here “said the crow and suddenly flew smoothly up into the sky.

Harry had no alternative but to wait.

The rain finally stopped and the sun came out. Harry waited and just as he gave up hope the crow returned. The crow dropped an insect in Harry’s path.

“Can you eat that?” he asked with his black head on one side.

Harry leapt forward and began chewing on the dead insect.

The crow and Harry began to talk. Harry explained the story of the growths and the life in the tunnels of the colony. The crow talked of great storms in the sky and the beauty of the dawn sky. They talked and talked until the rain started again. After a while the crow said,

“You must be a very special rat indeed. I will take you to someone who will be able to explain this strange happening.”

The crow walked uneasily across the garden. He shouted back to Harry “follow the fence down the river bank, then follow the river back into the forest. I will wait for you there.” Then the crow, whose name was Raoul, flew up into the rainy sky.

Harry scuttled along by the fence until he reached the river. He saw a tiny mouse that scrambled away as soon as he saw Harry. He saw a whole beside the river and was tempted to hide there. However fearing an otter he continued along the river. The sound of the racing water filled his ears. The water surged and gurgled and splashed along by the stony and muddy banks. At last Harry reached the forest. Now the moon was shining. Moonlight cascaded down from between the dark branches. Harry looked around and could not see the crow.

The sky seemed to be full of gleaming moonlight. The silver light shone on the leaves and stones. The ghostly light mesmerised Harry as he waited. At last the crow landed nearby.

“Now you must follow the moonlight “said the crow. I will meet you with my brothers and sisters in the open glade near here”.

Harry followed the intense white light of the moon. He crossed ridge of stones and grass and walked carefully between the roots of huge trees. The forest was silent apart from the rustle of the leaves. Harry looked up and saw the trees overhead. He watched the leaves move in the night wind. He saw something shining in the trees above him. A jewel like shine stood out from the trees. Suddenly the bright jewel became a movement and a rush of dim colour. Harry instinctively ran and shouted to himself “OWLS!” Harry raced into the undergrowth as the owl dived toward him. The owl’s talons brushed over his tail. Harry span around and rushed toward the shadows.

The owl settled on a branch and watched the ground. His eyes were well trained and accustomed to the darting movement of rats. His head turned in the moonlight. His beak trembled with expectation of a juicy meal. Harry moved very carefully and slowly between the trees. He knew he was in mortal danger. He felt exhausted. The weight of the town on his back seemed to be growing. In a moment the crow landed nearby. “You are too slow rat “said the crow. “Follow me. We will not let the owl hunt here in our trees.”

As Harry watched two crows swooped near the owl and he flew up into the moonlight. The crows squawked and the owl flew off back toward the river.

The crows were gathered on some old stones near the centre of the glade. There were too many for Harry to count. Black and bulky the crows stood waiting bathed in moonlight. They watched Harry approach with Raoul. The crows gasped as they saw Harry.

In the moonlight the town on Harry’s back began to grow. The towers leapt up taller and taller. The stone like castle sprouted new battlements. A house mushroomed up on Harry’s shoulders. Harry thought this was the end. He rolled to one side in agony. A pale beautiful light filled the glade. The trees on every side shone with the brilliant shade. Moonlight glinted and gleamed over the assembled crows. The stones shone with light and the night sky burned with ivory stars.

Suddenly the houses and towers and castle left Harry’s back. A haze of moonlight shone around the rat. The city he had carried was suddenly sitting on the floor of the forest in the shining moonlight.

Harry sighed and felt a huge relief. He shook his head and he shook his tail with pleasure. He twitched and sniffed the air. Raoul the crow said,

‘You have done your job Harry. They needed someone to bring them to this magic place. Look!’

From inside the tiny houses and towers even smaller figures emerged. They were as small as insects on the ground. They stood in the mesmerising moonlight and waved their arms. They were small figures who began to float up into the moonlight.

Harry blinked and frowned. The town on the forest floor was crumbling before his eyes. The towers and castle became tiny, dusty ruins. The figures danced up into the air. White and green the figures danced away toward the leaves, toward the night sky.

Harry heard a shimmering voice,

“We thank you Harry. You carried us to a special place. We are far from our home. We are travelling back. We saw your good heart. We knew you would find a way to this glade eventually. We are grateful.

Now you can return to your colony. Your eyes will always sparkle!”

Colours traced the high trees in silver and green. The night shone.

The crows rose up into the air in a black pulse of flight.

Harry felt the light wash over him. When he opened his eyes again he was back in the colony. The familiar entrance hole was before him. He stopped for a moment. His nose twitched and his eyes shone.

                                                                                               Chris Bird

The Jaguar

The Jaguar

The huge stones ran in a jagged line along the bank of the river. The river moved slowly sparkling in the clear autumn sunshine. The riverbank led to a cluster of trees. It was here amongst the trees that the jaguar sat hidden in the canopy of leaves. Every so often a leaf fell slowly from the tree to the grass. The jaguar barely noticed the leaves. His stare was fixed firmly on the stones as they absorbed the rays of the sunshine. The sun glinted on the surface of the river and cast a glow across the grey surface of the stones. With a lazy sluggish movement the jaguar moved along the branch and waited. The sound of the water was the only sound in the air. The jaguar turned and looked around. 

His movements were slow and yet full of power and elegance. In a second the jaguar leapt into the space in front of him. The shape of the cat filled the air. His black fur shimmered in the sun. The cat's body did not fall directly to the grass. The shape seemed to hang in the air and drop in gradients toward the ground. Each movement left a ghostly shape in the air as it flowed into the next solid form. The jaguar seemed to be part of six or seven outlines which in a spectrum of solidity headed toward the firm earth. From deep shimmering black the shapes became more and more translucent until they faded in a faint image of movement. It was as if the jaguar had leapt into six shapes in the air which faded and blurred until they reached the ground. Now at last the black cat stood on the ground in a black, stern shape of darkness. The air around the cat shimmered with the impulse of the jump. The cat prowled across the grass toward the river. His body was firm and powerful stepping toward the water. The light flowed over him and shone in the black elegance of his prowling body. 

When the jaguar reached the stones he sniffed the air and stopped. The river sparkled beyond the riverbank and the trees swayed in a light breeze. The jaguar lifted his paw and began to scratch the side of the stone. He did so firmly and in a regular movement. Gradually as he scratched the stone marks began to show on the stone surface. The marks became deeper and deeper as he scratched.

From the deep within the surface of the stone a faint sound began to emerge.

The sound sounded like a faint pulse of breathe. The sound grew as the jaguar scratched.

As the wind grew the trees swayed more violently. The river darkened and the sparkling surface quality of the water changed. A cold shadow passed across the river and the riverbank alike.

The stone split slowly and gradually. The stone surface opened and the claws of the jaguar pulled the parts away. As the stone opened a sweet smell emerged into the air. The jaguar lifted itself up to stand looking into the stone. The parts of the stone fragmented and fell to the grass.

The jaguar lifted back it's head and roared in ecstasy. It's call carried across the forest toward the low hills and the town beyond.

As night came the wind moved slowly across the tops of the trees. The colours of the stars shone down on the forest as the jaguar paced toward the faraway hills. Around the neck of the jaguar hung an emerald stone that glowed in the night air. The stone had given up the emerald to the claim of the black cat. Now the jaguar prowled the moonlit forest decorated with the green trophy. The agitated monkeys that glanced at the cat saw the emerald  became still . The owls that swooped amongst the high branches saw the emerald and stayed their flight out of admiration. All the creatures of the forest recognised that the jaguar was the prince of the shadows now that he wore the beautiful jewel. The birds of the forest sand tributes to the black cat as he paced the dark night. 

Until morning the emerald glowed and lit up the night of shadows. The music of the forest faded before the clear hearted brilliance of the jewel. The stars themselves seem faint in comparison.

At last the jaguar curled up and began to sleep. He found a place high in the trees. As he slept his dreams reached out over the highest trees in the forest. The dream shone in delicate and translucent tones that scaled the sky up toward the moon itself.   

The moon accepted the dreams like words of sacred promise. The dreams blurred in the night sky sending streams of icy green light that reached across the night of the world. The jaguar's eyes grew more and more green as he stared into the night. Eventually the planets became small beside the eyes of the jaguar as it leapt through the starlight into the distance.

Chris Bird

The Golden Children

The waves broke and scattered before the stony shore. The sea rose up in the distance shining green and white before pouring forward. The castle looked down on the sea in the morning light. It’s towers and spires spread right along the coast. A few flags fluttered in the early morning breeze and smoke rose from one or two chimneys. A soldier stood on the battlements looking out across the bay. He was the first to see them.

Seaweed twisted in a green mass beside the rocks. The sun shone on the slippery rocks where tiny crabs crawled out of rock pools. Here and there a sea gull landed on the craggy rocks hoping to find something tasty to eat. The sea gulls were very white against the green seaweed covered rocks. Then something appeared that had a different and distinct colour. They stepped one by one onto the shore as the sun shone and the gulls flew overhead. They glistened with an incredible golden hue. When the sun shone directly onto their surfaces it looked as if a fire was burning there in the open air.

A fisherman bobbing on the waves saw them and thought he must be looking at treasure of something. A soldier in the high tower observed them from a distance and thought a series of bonfires had been lit on the shore. The gulls watched them with fascination. Only the crabs ignored them and went about their business as usual.

The soldiers came running from the castle gate across the hills and the sand dunes. They brought their swords and axes as if ready for a fight. Was this an invasion of golden armoured pirates? The soldiers ran and ran until they were close by. Then they stopped and stared in disbelief.

The group of figures on the beach glowed in a golden, shimmering light. They were motionless standing at the edge of the splashing waves. The soldiers approached cautiously swords at their sides.

They stared and stared as the waves broke and the sea birds screeched overhead.

 Then they ran back to the castle. Within an hour the Queen’s own First Minister came to the beach. He wore long dark robes and held a silver stick. Next to him came the Cardinal with his servants dressed in white and a Captain of the Guard in silvery armour. They all stared at the group standing on the shore unmoving.

“Are they children?” asked the Cardinal in a hushed voice.

“Yes “replied the Captain after a long silence.

“Golden Children” whispered the Queen’s First Minister.

“What should we do with them “asked the Captain.

“Shall I arrest them?”

“What crime have they committed?” said the First Minister.

Neither the Captain or the Cardinal nor even the First Minister could take their eyes from the figures.

They glowed in such a perfect golden light. They were children dressed in simple clothes standing in the sea. They seemed like statues standing there unmoving. They shone with a full, vivid glare of light. Their eyes stared straight ahead and their arms were pressed to their sides. In all there were six children standing beside the sea.  As the day grew older more and more people came to stare at the wonder. Peasants and Courtiers alike came to see the ‘Golden Children ‘.

‘What could have brought them here?’ asked a nurse to her friend.

‘How do they shine so beautifully?’ asked a boy to his Mother.

‘Are they real or made of gold?’ asked a market trader to his brother.

It was this last consideration that brought the Queen’s Treasurer to the beach.

‘We must take them back to the castle he decided ‘they could be very valuable indeed’.

So with great efforts the six golden children were placed on a cart and slowly taken back to the castle. They were heavy and it was hard work. The shadows of twilight crowded around the assembly of soldiers who helped push the cart toward the castle.

The Queen who was a very elderly lady who rarely left her bed told her First Minister to bring the treasure to her own chamber. She wanted to claim the golden figures as her own.

At last with torches burning in the night air the soldiers brought the golden children into the castle’s main square. The wind began to blow around the old castle when the gate was finally closed. The sea began to rise up in bigger and bigger waves all along the coast. The sky darkened and crackled with lightning and a heavy rain drenched the beach. Everyone escaped the rain and ran for cover.

The soldiers ran to the towers, the Cardinal moved quickly in his ornate garments to the chapel and the First Minister scurried back to the Royal Chambers. The golden children stood in the centre of the castle square as the rain poured down. Great waves smashed onto the beach that night and the wind howled.

Sea birds flew for cover on the faraway cliffs and the rocks faced wave after wave of pounding, frenzied water.

The Old Queen lay in her bed listening to the storm get worse and worse. She was frightened of the lightning and pulled the sheets up over her head. Her thin bony hands trembled under the sheets.

In the morning the storm had blown itself out. Gulls returned to the shore line screeching and calling and once again the crabs scuttled about on the rocks. When the first people returned to the court yard to see what had happened to the golden children they were in for a shock. There was no sign of them whatsoever! Soldiers and peasants, traders and nurses all ran through the corridors of the castle searching for the children. They were nowhere to be found! Rumours and gossip spread everywhere that the First Minister had taken the treasure for himself. Others said that the Cardinal had taken the figures to decorate his Chapel. Others whispered that the Captain had melted the figures to build more cannons on the castle defences.

 The sun rose and gleamed down on the castle. The First Minister nervously went to the Queen to give her the astonishing news. The Cardinal stayed inside the Chapel praying for some answer to be found to the mystery. The Captain ordered search parties to set out immediately to scour the coast.

The Queen sat up in bed and coughed. She shook her old head and said in a weary voice,

“You must take the blame for this loss Minister.”

He bowed his head and stepped back slowly out of the room.

The new First Minister was hurriedly sworn in and addressed a crowd outside the Royal Chambers.

“I assure you that we will find these golden treasures and in so doing we will add to the wealth of our great kingdom “This was generally well received and a great popular surge of support rose for the New First Minister.

The soldiers searched in the sand dunes and beyond in the woods that spread across the hills. They even sent a fishing boat along the coast to see if the golden children had washed out to sea. They searched the forests and the cliffs and yet found nothing. They were on the verge of giving up when one young soldier suggested trying the caves far beyond the beach. As a boy he had played there and he surmised that if they were children the golden group might want to play here too.

Twilight had filtered down from the sky as the two soldiers approached the old caves. They walked carefully up the sandy dunes that led to the open mouth of the cave face.

As the soldiers stepped into the shadows they thought they could hear distant laughing. At first they weren’t sure. Were they imagining the sounds? As they slowly moved deeper into the cave they could hear the laughter more and more clearly. The sound of children laughing filled their ears!

They searched the ancient caves holding a small torch of fire to light the way. The shadows danced around them on the craggy walls of the caves. As they searched every part of the huge caverns the flame lit up the stones and rocks. Still the sound of laughter came and went. The younger soldier stopped to rest for a second and as he did so he felt a hand brush his face gently. He jumped back and looked around. There was no one in sight. Again the hand touched his face. Before he could react a sudden burst of golden light was directed at him. It broke out of the dark without warning blinding him for a second. He stumbled and dropped the torch. A child’s voice called out to him.

“Come and play again as you did as children”

The soldier span around in the cave and fell to the rocky ground. For a split second he thought he saw his own face stare back at him out of the dark. The face seemed to be the face of a child but somehow it was his own face too. It glowed with a vivid golden light that shone throughout the cave.

 He turned and ran out of the cave toward the beach. His comrade turned too at the sight of him running and sped out behind him. They ran for the castle and still the laughter seemed to follow them on the air.

When they got back to the castle the Captain of the Guard was furious. He shouted and shouted for the whole guard to assemble in the court yard. He told that they had to revert to shock tactics to scare the strange figures in submission. He called on the guard to build a fighting machine to confront the strangers. Immediately soldiers ran in every direction to fetch planks of wood and nails and rope. The work began at once with banging and shouting echoing all around the castle. Shields were pulled up by ropes and mounted on planks; wheels were attached to barrels that were nailed into place. After a day of crashing and banging an odd looking device stood in the courtyard. It looked like something between a siege tower on wheels and a cart covered in shields and ropes.

The wind rocked it gently as it stood ready for inspection. The Captain looked it up and down.

Then the Captain proclaimed grandly ‘Place the flag on the top!’

The soldiers were a little confused.

‘Which bit is the top? ‘One soldier whispered to his friend.

They dragged the weapon out onto the beach. With a whine and a lurch it headed across the beach. The flag fluttered at the head of the wooden tower and as the wheels rolled they clanked against the line of shields. Soldiers marched behind the weapon toward the caves. The weapon creaked and groaned as it crossed the sand and neared the caves. It rolled forward and gulls began to fly around it. As it got to the cave it shuddered .A huge tremor ran through the ground. A sparkling dust started to leave the mouth of the cave. It glistened and glittered in the air. A sparkling mist began to surround the weapon. The nails creaked in their sockets. The wood groaned and the wheels seem to buckle. In a moment the huge structure wobbled and trembled and then slowly fell back toward the sea. The mist rose up into the air shining and gleaming like a golden fog. In a second the weapon had crashed into the waves. It broke into countless pieces and drifted out to sea.

The New First Minister felt anxious about the failure of the search parties. He paced in his office back and forth under the portrait of The Queen. From time to time he threw a nervous glance at the portrait and winced. Outside in the courtyard a group of peasants were debating whether or not the golden children had been the descendants of Lords or workers like themselves. These debates were continuing amongst the poor all over the castle and the First Minister did not like the tone of them at all. A newspaper had been circulated with an artist’s impression of the ‘Golden Children’. The illustrator had curiously had added wings and haloes to their appearance. This had incensed the Cardinal who found the drawing faintly blasphemous. The Queen had been taken ill again and this meant that no further action could really be taken for the time being.

‘What action can we possibly take anyway’ thought the First Minister.

The clock chimed in his office and with a puzzled expression he looked at the hands of the timepiece. As he looked the hands of the clock began to turn slowly backwards. The First Minister frowned and watched as the hands of the clock began to accelerate spinning backwards.

The Cardinal was deep in prayer. He was troubled by the memory of the golden children. He closed his eyes and began to chant the sacred words of his faith. As he did so the words suddenly slipped away from him. He tried again. Carefully he spoke in a whisper the words of prayer. He stopped and touched his lips. What was he saying? He frowned. As he tried to pray the words had changed. Everyone time that he prayed new words came from his lips. He shook his head. One last time he chanted and as he did so a little boy was listening at the back of the chapel. He was hiding here because it was warmer than his home. The boy smiled as he listened to the Cardinal.

‘These were such beautiful words’ thought the boy.

The Cardinal could no longer control the words in his prayer. As he chanted his voice came to fill the Chapel:

‘We must all live in justice and peace, we must celebrate the wealth that is shared, the peasants are the closest to God and we must make this castle a haven for the needy.’

The Queen lay deep in sleep. Her mind moved to and from many memories of days past. She thought of the castle as it had been when she was a girl, the old sea lapping at the nearby beach. She remembered the silver rings and emerald necklaces that she had adored when she was a young woman. She dreamt of the moon high above the castle shining in a pale, crystal light. Then as she looked up at the moon of her dreams it began to change colour slowly. In her dream she watched the old moon fade from white to amber and then slowly, slowly to gold. A gold moon! Who had heard of such a thing! The old Queen’s dreams blurred and drifted as the gold moon shone. She saw a horse running along the beach splashing the edges of the morning waves. Yet this horse shone gold, bright as a flame. The horse ran and ran toward the distant horizon. The morning seemed to light up with the radiance of the gold colour. The Queen twitched and snored. She rolled to one side to stop the dream but she could not. As she watched in her dream the gold horse ran further and further until it reached the horizon. It ran and ran until there was no more room in the world for it to cross so it jumped up into the sky and ran there. The gold horse ran along the white clouds and crossed the sky. As the horse ran the old castle became young again and the turrets and battlements shone with a pure beauty. The laws of the castle changed to in the gold light. The laws were just and peaceful and the greed of the present day was forgotten.

The peasant children in the castle slept in cold rooms. These children were usually hungry and tired and sleep was hard for them. One child called Lisa could not sleep and walked out onto one of the corridors of the huge castle. As she walked the empty corridors she thought she saw a figure fleetingly pass by in another staircase. She followed the figure and suddenly she heard a crying sound. It must be one of the youngsters she thought. She looked and looked for the crying child. She was about to give up when a strange light shone along the stairs. She approached the light and heard a child cry. A gold voice spoke to her.

“Return to your room there is food and comfort for you there”.

The voice stunned her with its beauty. She hesitated and then ran back to her family’s room. When she opened the door the room was unrecognisable. A fire burnt brightly in the fireplace where before an empty pile of black ashes stood. Blankets covered each and every child and adult. On the rickety wooden table a huge breakfast was laid out under a misty gold glow. Lisa grinned from ear to ear and let out a yelp of pleasure and surprise.

The castle woke to a series of shocked and pleased cries. Many of the poorest peasants had woken to find new clothes and victuals waiting for them beside their beds. The Queen herself woke and for the first time in living memory got out of bed and prepared herself in the chamber’s mirror. She looked bright and alert in a way she had not been for ages and ages. She decided to find a new minister from amongst the poor and deprived. She wanted to hear songs and see colour in the old castle. She wanted to see horses run on the beach. She wanted to see the sky bright with hope for all those who lived in the castle.

The caves were silent except for the lap of the sea’s early waves. From the shadows of the cave came a golden figure. She stood looking across the sea. She watched the gulls flying and the waves breaking. She glanced across at the castle. She remembered so many things, so many days and so many names. Her friends came too now and all six children stood together. They shone gold in the morning light. They linked hands and formed in to a circle there on the beach. One by one they began to dance slowly around and around. As they danced and sang sweetly the waves crashed and fell in white and emerald surges. The sky stretched away in pale beauty above the hills and forests. The world was shining. The children shone like dreams. They were children of the waves, children of peace.

Story By Chris Bird

The Other Side of Midnight

As the chill night rain touched the surface of the huge egg it splashed and sparkled in every direction. The rain was intensifying in silvery streams across the rocky hillside. At the top of the rise the stone paths gave way to a level area of flowers and shrubs. It was here amongst the dark flowers that the great egg stood silently. The egg was as big as a house with huge smooth sides curved precisely upward. The rain cascaded down the egg creating puddles here and there amongst the flowers.

From out of the rain storm a faint light shone dimly. Slowly the light formed into a ghostly outline. It moved steadily across the stones until it stood near the egg.

Another shape appeared suddenly in the rainy air. It swooped downward in a black edged rush of movement. The larger white shape shimmered and grew in size. From within the bright shadow a series of lines and forms solidified. The outlines glowed in pale lines and became clearer and more definite. The lines gleamed in the outline of a white horse.

The horse was as white as chalk, gleaming and graceful, standing still beside the egg. The horse looked around and as he did the rain slowed and began to clear. The dark shape flew into view and settled on the stones amongst the flowers. The dark form was shuffling and shaking itself free of raindrops.

‘Crow ”said the horse, ”You are late.”

The crow shook its wings and hopped up into the air.

“The weather slowed me right down” hissed the crow.

The crow shook its head frenetically.

“Get yourself an umbrella” said the horse under its breath.

The crow looked hard at the horse.

The horse was beautiful beyond description. Its white mane shook flecks of dark rain into the air. It was so white that it was difficult to look at the horse for too long. The black crow had to admit that the horse looked magnificent. It was undeniable.

Yet the crow did not want to admire the horse too obviously.

“His head is big enough already” thought the crow.

Now the rain had stopped completely.

A gradual wave of crystal moonlight crossed the hillside.

Below the hillside valleys of black trees stretched into the distance. The forest was vast reaching far away toward the horizon.

The horse looked around with a thoughtful expression.

Slowly he spoke with a serious tone,

“The moonlight will hasten the ritual”.

The crow nodded. It stretched its wings.

“Soon” whispered the crow simply.

The moon poured down light upon the hilltop.

Raindrops glittered on the pale surface of the egg.

The horse watched the egg expectantly.

Suddenly a third creature appeared on the hilltop moving in an agile crawl.

It seemed to come out of nowhere. The creature stood up and let out a low growl.

“Leopard” nodded the horse by way of acknowledgement toward the newcomer.

The crow fluttered nervously up into the cold air.

“Don’t flatter yourself!” growled the leopard.

“I can’t abide the taste of ravens, tough as old boots.”

“I’m a crow” squawked the bird.

“Silence” said the horse in a soft voice barely more than a whisper.

The leopard’s eyes flashed with anger. His tail curled up into the air.

His paws padded along the stones in silence. His fur shone like the colour of a summer beach. The leopard growled softly and then lay on the ground.

The horse stood still beside the leopard and the crow.

Moonlight flowed down over the three creatures.

The moonlight was sharp as needles, glinting and shimmering on the surface of the egg.

The leopard stretched and the crow shuffled.

The silence of the hilltop was unbroken.

Pale stars above the hilltop called down suddenly,

“Horse, let us know the news”.

The horse glanced upward, “all in good time” he replied.

The crow stared up at the brittle, distant stars. The leopard licked its paws with careful, deliberate strokes. It moved nearer the egg.

“Look” it growled.

Across the surface of the egg a fine crack had appeared. Very slowly in fine streaks the crack lengthened and spread. The thin lines moved steadily across the surface.

The egg was opening into the moonlight.

The horse moved closer and the crow fluttered up into the air to get a better view. Only the leopard was still, its emerald eyes taking in the seconds of revelation. The cracks grew and grew moving with increased speed in fine pulses on the egg surface.

The eggshell glowed with moonlight as the cracks accelerated in every direction. Low cracking sounds came from the surface of the egg.

The horse raised a front leg in anticipation.

A silvery light began to emerge from the eggshell cracks. It sparkled and ran over the three waiting creatures. Shadows and silver pulses of light radiated into the cold night air.

Silver and emerald, crystal and amber streaks of light seemed to float above the egg. From one crack a strong burst of light shot out toward the sky. Shading his eyes with his wings the crow stared toward the egg.

A further section of the egg broke away. The leopard stared hypnotized by the beautiful cascades of light. Across the surface of the egg tiny flowering bursts of light shone and then faded. Bright lines seemed to glimmer and burst into the air and then fade away again.

The last part of the eggshell fell away. As the egg finally opened the heads of the flowers gradually turned toward the light.

There before them the glowing egg rivaled the intensity of the moon itself.

It was then that the girl stepped out of the light.

She was small yet her hands and face were full of the most beautiful

colours. The horse instinctively bowed its head. The leopard flattened itself on the ground. The crow dropped its beak to the stones. All sense of cold seemed to leave the air.

The light began to fade.

The stars above watched the girl take a step. They whispered in celebration. The forest trees swayed in respect.

Faraway the sea itself took a deep, delighted breath. The waves rushed to the shore to catch a glimpse of the girl.

The forest moved with shadows to witness her.

Now from between the dark trees came owls, deer, jaguars, eagles, foxes, ravens, monkeys and apes. In the shadowy mass the animals came to adore the girl. She was their light, their day and night, the bringer of dawn and dusk. The birds circled above the girl.

Then the girl walked amongst them like a ghost Queen reclaiming her kingdom of shadows. She climbed up upon the white horse.

With the leopard beside them they walked into the forest to greet the coming dawn.

Chris Bird

June 1^st 2016

The Star at the End of the Sky

The Star at the End of the Sky

The flowers grew at night pushing up through the brown soil with strong green stalks.

At the edge of the moonlit forest the flowers appeared suddenly in wide banks that trembled in the wind. By morning the flowers were already beginning to bloom.

Red petals touched by streaks of amber opened in the breeze. The flowers stood facing the old castle.

Soon people from the castle came to marvel at the beautiful flowers that had so miraculously appeared.

Within a few days the flowers had spread far and wide across the hillsides surrounding the castle. Children came to play amongst the tall, colourful flowers running and hiding in the colourful banks of red and green.

The King appeared one day having heard of the flowers from his court advisers.

Some in the castle had begun to spend more time marveling at the wonderful flowers then working at their jobs. Even soldiers came to watch the flowers move gently in the afternoon breeze.

A blacksmith brought a lame horse out into the flowers and the horse neighed with delight and soon began to walk normally again. Animals from the forest also came to inspect the flowers, foxes, stoats, badgers, rabbits and wild cats came to stiff the gorgeous smelling buds.

The King watched with increasing displeasure from the Royal tower. He frowned a very Royal frown and rubbed his chin. He shook his head slowly with a grave look upon his face.

The flowers spread across all the roads and paths leading from the castle.

Carts and wagons struggled to break through the banks of flowers that seemed to grow taller everyday.

“The commerce of the castle and our ability to make war are being undermined” the King scowled in a rage. He stamped his foot and his crown nearly fell off his Royal head.

The King made up his mind. He barked out a royal proclamation and the castle soldiers were instructed to launch an attack on the flowers. Lines of soldiers carrying heavy axes and silver swords left the castle's main gate. Trumpets sounded as they marched out. The soldiers worked in a frenzy as the castle's population watched.

 The soldiers cut and chopped, hacked and sliced until by nightfall the flowers had been reduced to a pile of crumpled petals and broken stalks.

The petals blew up into the air around the castle towers in swirling clouds of red and orange. The petals drifted on the morning breeze falling slowly in every direction.

The King was delighted! He skipped back to his Royal Chamber to plan his next war. Many of the castle's population watched the slaughter and sadly shook their heads. Some shed a tear and the forest animals ran back in to the shadows of the forest.

A long dark night closed around the castle and the forest.

By morning the flowers had returned!

The sweet smell of the buds was everywhere. The flowers quickly spread back across the fields and surrounded the castle again. A sea of red petals gleamed in every direction. The flowers soon began to grow on the old castle walls.

They grew on the battlements and on the turrets of the castle towers.

They soon began to grow around castle window and door.

The flowers even spread into the castle courtyard. Soon the stone corridors of the castle were blocked by the tall stalks and beautiful blooms.

Many of the castle doors were jammed shut by the mass of flowers.

The final straw came when the flowers spread into the King's private chambers.

His maps of foreign lands waiting to be conquered rustled and fell to the stone floor and walls. Flowers grew from cracks in the ceilings and window frames of every room in the castle.

Thumping his jeweled hand down on the Royal table the King called for his Royal Witch. Servants were sent to awake the Royal Witch who spent a great deal of time dozing in her dusty, cobweb covered room. The Royal Witch rushed along the castle corridors stepping around the flowers that grew everywhere.

The King shouted and screamed so much that his crown toppled off ! In fact his crown didn't fit very well anyway but no one dared to tell him.

The witch was instructed to magic away the flowers at once!

She gathered up her long black cloak and bowed to the King.

She was soon on the castle battlements as the moon shone high above.

As the moon's rays touched the tallest tree in the forest the witch mumbled some magical words. She cast a sparkling cloud of dust into the night air. The dust fell to the stone ground gleaming and twinkling.

The witch closed her eyes. She was silent and still as the pale moonlight poured over her. She breathed deeply and let the darkness slide away.

She sensed the stars far above and the movement of the chill wind in the trees.

She spoke in a low voice a strange forgotten language known only to witches and wizards.

In her mind's eye she saw the white glowing face of the moon.

The surface of the moon glistened with white, clear light.

She smiled to herself and slowly opened her dark.

However in the morning her smile had soon gone!

The flowers had not disappeared.

All that had changed was their colour!

All the petals had turned to silver!

Silvery petals covered every part of the castle and forest beyond.

“Noooooooo” shouted the King.

“I didn't ask you to change the flowers colour. I wanted them gone!”

The King stamped his foot with rage and his crown toppled to the stone ground once again.

Soldiers carried the witch back to the battlements. The captain stood nearby with a sword in his hand. The witch stood thinking for a while.

She looked around at the Captain and the Captain looked at her.

The witch closed her eyes and began to speak in a strange language.

Then the witch clapped her hands three times. She lifted her hands up toward the sky.

Suddenly she made a sound just like a crow.

A streak of brilliant blue light burst from her fingertips.

The Captain jumped in surprise.

Shining pulses of light rolled out over the fields surrounding the castle. Streams of silver and gold light merged with the crystal blue glow that gleamed on the witch's fingers.

Shadows soared up into the sky and then split and drifted back to Earth.

The castle trembled. Many of the mirrors in the castle cracked.

From faraway a cloud began to approach the castle battlements. As it got nearer it was clear that it was not a rain cloud at all. It was a cloud of birds of every description. Doves, owls, hawks, wrens, sparrows, pigeons, ravens and crows swooped around the castle battlements tracing the beautiful light that the witch had created. The birds flew around the castle many times lit by the moon.

As they flew their wings rustled like a wave on the beach.

Their bright shadows moved across the castle courtyard and gateway.

Then in a moment they were gone !

Moonlight itself faded too and the castle was plunged into complete silence and darkness.

In the morning when the daybreak came the flowers were still there!

The King scowled and stamped his foot once more. He screamed out orders and servants and soldiers ran in every direction. The Captain jumped up from a breakfast of sausages and left the guardroom. He was still chewing a sausage as he ran to the Royal chambers. In an instant he received his orders.

Soldiers dragged the witch to the castle dungeon.

In the dark dungeon the witch sat on a cold stone bench. She pulled her black hood over her head and thought to herself about the injustice of the world. Suddenly from far above her she heard a huge 'boom' coming from the castle battlements. The explosive sound shook the walls of the castle. A spider dropped out of a web above her and scuttled quickly across the dungeon floor to hide.

The 'boom' came twice more shaking the walls of the dungeon.

The witch guessed what had happened.

The King was so furious that he had ordered the castle's canons to be fired at the flowers. The Captain of the Guard shouted 'Fire!' from the battlements.

'Boom' went the castle canons as they spewed out flashes of fire. Canon balls flew out from the battlements at the mass of flowers. Clouds of pale smoke drifted along the battlements.

As the canon balls smashed into the flowers sparks spat across the air toward the forest. One glowing ember burnt intensely on a patch of high grass and suddenly an orange flame licked the branches of a nearby tree.

Soon flames danced over the trees in surges of gleaming yellow, red and orange.

The forest birds flew up into the air as the fire danced from branch to branch.

Still the King would not stop. Canon balls rained down on the flowers sending smoke and fire in every direction.

The whole castle shook and in the dungeon the witch realised that time was short.

She whispered to herself and in a puff of smoke she transformed into a tiny sparrow.

She jumped up on to the narrow window of the dungeon and flew out between the bars up into the sky.

The canons finally stopped.

“Victory” shouted the King and his crown fell off again.

None of the soldiers cheered. They stared out at the fires dancing across the forest and they could feel the heat of the blaze.

The witch flew far away from the castle. She flew by day and by night. Her wings flapped and flapped until she was exhausted. Her wings trembled with weariness.

She swooped back up into the sky and continued. She flew for so long that she lost all track of time. Day became night and night turned to day.

Eventually she reached the star at the end of the sky.

The star gleamed in a silvery, ethereal glow.

The star shone so brightly that the witch had to cover her eyes. Silver light poured over the black outline of the witch. She looked up slowly and spoke to the star.

Words drifted in the cold, pale air.

The star glowed more and more brightly.

At the centre of the star there was a silver voice.

The star reached out to the witch. Streams of crystal light flowed over the witch.

Stars from the night sky shone all around. The witch found herself bathed in starlight. In a second she knew what to do.

When she travelled back to the castle she transformed into a white horse. She crossed the fields running in a powerful stride.

All the forest animals admired the beauty of the white horse and followed in its stead.

Foxes and rabbits, badgers and leopards, deer and otters ran alongside the horse back toward the burnt forest.

As the horse passed through the forest the blackened, broken trees came back to life. Leaves appeared on the end of twisted black branches and hedges and bushes grew suddenly from the ground. Surges of green grass erupted on the ground as the white horse rode past. The animals of the forest returned to their homes.

Birds sang across the forest as the trees came back to life. Soon the forest fire was only a memory and the forest returned to it's former glory.

When she arrived back at the castle it was unrecognisable. A ruin of broken walls covered with huge flowers stood where once the impressive castle had been. Everyone had fled.

The witch changed back from the beautiful, white horse to her own form.

Half fallen outer walls surrounded an inner courtyard full of flowers. At the centre of the court yard sitting on a broken throne was the dejected figure of the King.

There were huge flowers surrounding the throne. The King's crown sat crookedly on his head. His eyes were tired and sad. All his former fury had gone.

The witch looked all around at the ruined castle. She listened to the silence.

She came close to her former King.

He looked at her and sighed.

The witch spoke softly and with pity.

“You made war and this is the result. These flowers are flowers of peace. They longed for you to embrace reconciliation”.

 The King nodded slowly.

He turned away for a moment.

Then he reached for something to give the witch.

In his trembling hand the King held a beautiful flower.

Chris Bird