Markova Nataliya S. : другие произведения.

I wish you knew

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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками
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  • Аннотация:
    A sequel to The Island of Always Summer
  
I WISH YOU KNEW
  
  
Natalia Markova
  
  
I
  
  
Who's that, so lovable and cute,
So helpless and fragile?
Whose voice is ringing like a flute?
It is my dear child.

I wish I had two mighty wings
And always stayed around,
To fight away all evil things
And keep him safe and sound.
  
   Twelve years had passed from the time when Anton the Cleverhanded had come back to his native town on the coast of the Western Sea. From that voyage he had brought a wife, small dark-skinned Devi. Anton fared well - his workshop was thriving, his family was loving. Devi had given him a son, dark-eyed and dark-skinned Tony.
   Once Anton asked his wife, "Do you remember how you'd released my brother from the spell with your song? Why haven't I heard you sing ever since?"
   "I don't know," said Devi after a pause. "Maybe, the reason is... that I've forgotten my mother tongue and I don't feel like singing in a foreign language."
   "What a selfish fool am I!" reproached himself Anton. "Oh, you must have been so homesick! I'll tell you what, darling, I'll fit out a new ship and we'll go there. And we'll take our son with us. It'll be useful for him to see the world."
   Devi's face came alight with joy.
   Long ago, in the green Land of Ko, she had been a king's daughter and lived in the king's palace.
   "I wish you knew how beautiful our palace is! It's all made of white and rose-colored stone, so lavishly carved that the palace appears to be covered in lace. It took four generations to build it. And our climate is really lush! Our fields yield crops twice a year, and many of our sweet and juicy fruits even don't have names in your language. Oh, I wish you knew, how wonderful my country is, how kindhearted and cheerful our people are! So loyal to their king, my father. And my brother, prince Jahmmu! So brave and high-minded! Once, as we were strolling in the forest, a band of nomads swooped down upon us. He fought fearlessly, but the nomads were too many. They seized me, slung over a horse's back and galloped away. I even don't know whether my brother is still alive. The brigands sold me to a slaver, who brought me to the Town of Blue Domes. It was there that I met you."
  "That's settled then, sweetheart, we're leaving."
  
   That afternoon Anton's brother, Peter, dropped in. He was a musician and composed his own music.
   "Congratulations!" Anton praised his brother, "Your melodies can be heard from any open window."
   "Oh," Peter waved his hand disparagingly. "It's of no value to me. My songs are good to hum after a copious dinner. There's a different music inside me, yearning out so eagerly that it seems to burst my chest. You know, we're used to enjoy the nightingale's song or the babble of a brook. But I can hear beauty in everything - in the rumble of machines in a factory, in coarse shouts of workers, in whispering of the envious, in groans of the dying. But every time I try to play it, I fail. I feel like being a cage, a prison for my music."
   "Oh, brother, you're outwitting yourself. Is it really hard to convey the rumble of machines? All you have to do is to whack a hammer against an anvil."
   "No one would listen to it. It's only subtle shades of human feelings that can animate sounds. But the sameness of my life doesn't stir any emotions in me."
   "Then you should really come with us to Devi's homeland, the green Land of Ko. I guess, we're in for great adventures and vivid impressions."
  
   The Cleverhanded rigged another wonderful ship that could sail without wind. They said good-bye to the brother's parents, their youngest brother Ian, and Peter's wife, Anita, then loaded food supplies, fresh water, and gifts into the hold, as well as four horses. That was how they set out on a long journey, Anton the Cleverhanded, his wife Devi, small Tony and Peter the Musician. Two grown-up men, a woman, who was not afraid of any kind of work, and a teenage boy, they could well do without sailors on the ship equipped by ingenious machines.
   The voyage was uneventful. The weather was fine; moderate breeze pushed them steadily to their destination. Apart from Devi's lessons in the language of the Land of Ko, they didn't have much to do. It was for the first time that Anton had a lot of free time, so he decided to teach his son everything he knew. Tony was obedient and smart, he was good at reading, writing and arithmetic, he was handy at woodwork and metalwork. But every time his father left him alone, he ran down to the horses in the hold to feed them, clean them up, and remove their manure. At last Anton got really angry.
   "I'm trying to pass you down all my skills, and you're doing that rubbish!"
   "Oh Daddy, horses are so nice, so kind and clever! They feel so bad, cooped up there in the hold!"
   "Well, if my job doesn't appeal to you, you can study music, you can go into trade or some other respectful pursuit. Will you settle for making just a stable-hand?"
   Devi took her son's side.
   "Will you ever stop loving your son, even if he becomes a humble stable-hand?"
  
   As the ship was sailing past the Island of Eternal Summer, the voyagers stopped there to pay a visit to the King Serpent, to his great joy.
   "What a nice son you've got! Hey, boy, tell me, what would you like to get as a gift from an old wizard? Go ahead, boy, don't shy away!"
   "I'd like to...Oh, sir, I'd like to understand the animals' language, and I'd like them to understand me."
   "Not bad, kid! Come closer, then!"
   Tony stepped forward. All of a sudden, the huge serpent looped around the boy's body, his head lunged to the boy's face, giving a faint whistle squarely into each ear, then the serpent's fork-shaped tongue flicked on the boy's lips. Devi screamed in dismay. The serpent slid back to his dais, and Tony laughed with delight, now that he could understand the birds' twitter, the grasshoppers' chirruping, and the monkeys' screeches.
  
   His father wasn't pleased at all. "Now he's going to become even more estranged from me," he thought bitterly.
   Before saying good-bye, the Serpent warned the travelers, "Beware! I've never heard of the green Land of Ko, but something in my heart tells me that you are in for a grave danger. Remember, come what may, do your best to preserve your souls."
   The warning was quite obscure, and Devi even took offence.
   "You shouldn't say so; you don't know anything about the Land of Ko!"
  
  
II
  
  
If Wish is showing you a target,
Your legs and arms get never tired,
No cloud can obscure the sight,
A heavy bag seems feather-light.

Shoes never blister your feet,
Neither food nor drink you ever need,
Dust won't dry out your throat,
If Dream is showing you the road.
  
   The day came, when the green coasts of the Land of Ko came drifting past the ship. Devi recognized them, as they came in sight:
   "The Dormant Tiger Hill... The Sandal Grove... The capital town must be close at hand."
   They found a solitary bay, framed with fan-like palm-trees.
   "What if we leave the ship here?" suggested Peter.
   "Why not sail directly to the capital town?" asked Devi.
   Anton fell in with his brother's proposal:
   "The Serpent has warned us of some danger, and so far he's never told anything to no reason. I think we can safely get there on horses."
   The ship dropped anchor in the palm-framed bay. The travelers lead the horses ashore and loaded them with provisions and gifts. They changed their clothes in order to resemble local people and set out along the road, bronze with the suntan acquired during the voyage, sprightly looking forward to the wonders of the Land of Ko.
   They crossed the strip of rain forest stretched along the seacoast and found themselves before endless fields sprawling to the very horizon. In a field along the road, a group of haggard men and women in dingy clothes were idly loosing the soil with hoes. No one cared for the travelers. Only for a short moment the peasants raised their blunt weather-beaten faces from the ground.
   "How can they be so ugly!" thought Peter.
   "Don't you find, sweetheart, that they are not much of kind-hearted and cheerful?" asked Anton. "Why are some of them wearing iron collars and chains?"
   "These are nomads. Do you see their eyes, narrow and slanting? They look like the brigands that had kidnapped me. But we'd never kept people in irons before."
   Devi was gazing at her compatriots with astonishment.
   "I'll try to talk to them."
   She took some candies and shiny beads from one of their sacks and approached the peasants. They accepted her gifts dumbly and without thanking, then got to work again.
  
   Suddenly a boy about Tony's age dashed up to Devi, snatched a gold earring out of her ear and ran away. The woman shrieked with pain. The brothers rushed to catch the offender, but Devi checked them. She was totally upset.
   "I can't recognize our people. They seem to hate us just for being well-off and good-looking. I'm scared."
   "Let's go back, until it's too late," proposed Peter.
   "I can't go back without seeing my father and brother now that they are so close!"
  
   Now the capital town was lying ahead of them. The first thing they saw was an enormous statue towering over palm-trees and roofs. Tony asked for permission to come closer and examine the statue in detail. The statue represented a slender young man, whose head was crowned with a thorn wreath. One of his arms, with a white lotus flower in the palm of the hand, was stretched out over the square. Devi was staring at the statue in delight.
   "Oh, he resembles my brother so much! Just as handsome and high-spirited as he was. What if it's him?"
   With these words Devi's mood changed and she burst into tears.
   "He must be dead then; our custom doesn't allow erecting monuments to living people."
   "Why are you crying, woman?" a passerby with black mustache and a white turban asked her haughtily. "Why are you crying in front of the Statue of the Son of the Nation, great Jahmmu, may he live forever?"
   Devi brightened up.
   "Is this really prince Jahmmu? Is he alive?"
   "We have neither princes nor kings. Jahmmu, the Son of the Nation, has granted us liberty, equality and justice for everyone. For everyone, except savage nomads and the whites. And who are you? Where do you come from?"
   "We come from..." Tony began recklessly, but his mother cut in just in time to say that they had come from a neighboring country of Vin-Nit.
   "May be, may be not," hissed the passerby suspiciously before he left.
   "I wouldn't say I like it," said Anton in a low voice.
  At that moment the guards, dressed in black, rode up to them on their black horses. They ordered the travelers to dismount and began searching them.
  "Why? How dare you..." shrieked Devi indignantly.
  "Are you strangers? Jahmmu, the Son of the Nation, is making an appearance to the people. If you've got any weapon on you, you'd better surrender it now."
  The travelers saw everyone around being searched in the same way, and obeyed reluctantly.
  An utter silence fell over the square. A handsome young man in nondescript dark blue clothes and a little skullcap of the same color showed up. As he was walking, he cast inquisitive glances at the faces of the by-passers, who were pretending not to notice him. Two broad-shouldered guards were pretending not to be shadowing the man.
  Devi's black eyes dilated, she was standing motionless, holding her boy tight against her.
  Now the Son of the Nation was passing past Anton, Peter, Tony... Suddenly his face screwed up, his lips began to twitch.
  "Impossible, impossible, impossible," he whispered feverishly.
  "It's me, Jahmmu!"
  Devi rushed to him, laughing and crying by turns.
  The travelers joined Jahmmu in his round. They were following him at a distance, not daring to distract him from his duties of a ruler. The guards were leading their horses behind them.
  Then their way was blocked with a long line-up. Judging from their dour faces, the people had been staying there for a long time.
  "What are they doing?" asked Devi.
  "Getting their rations," explained her brother. "Food is given out here."
  "Are they beggars?"
  "Why beggars? Everyone gets his weekly ration of rice and vegetables on a special day."
  "Why can't they buy whatever and whenever they please?"
  "Then there would be no equality. I eat the same things they do. I've abolished money, because it's money that kills liberty."
  "How do you know that?" asked Devi. At that moment she sensed somebody's baleful and fearful eyes watching her. There were a woman and a boy in the line-up. Devi spotted her own earring in the woman's nose. The boy tried to escape in the crowd.
  Jahmmu's eyes followed his sister's look. He noticed Devi's tattered ear, then looked at the other ear and recognized the earring. A nod to the bodyguards and in a minute the woman was brought in front of him. The boy struggled back through the crowd to get closer to his mother.
  "Where did you get it?" asked Jahmmu, pointing at the earring.
  "My son has found it in the field."
  "You're lying. Your son has broken the law. My sister's ear charges him."
  The boy stepped forward and took the woman by the hand.
  "She's not to blame. 'T was me who took the thing."
  "You've robbed this woman. You've hurt her. Are you regretting it?"
  "Why should I? She's rich!" replied the boy defiantly.
  "Oh, Jahmmu, forgive him! He's just a kid, he doesn't understand..." implored Devi.
  "He must be punished. Law is superior to my will, law is justice."
  The boy was led away by the guards. Jahmmu's round continued.
  "Would you like to take a glimpse at our storehouse?" proposed he to his guests, as they were passing by a large windowless building. A narrow white trail of spilt rice was running away from the entrance door. Jahmmu's eyes flicked at the rice path, his lips twisted contemptuously. A man of his escort hurried down along the path. The guards in front of the doors stepped aside, letting Jahmmu and his companions in.
  It was stuffy inside the storehouse. Every now and then they could see rats fussing among sacks, stamped with black lotus-shaped seals, and among crates full of sickly-smelling roots. The air was reeking of rot. Jahmmu reached into a crate and his lips curled with disgust. He took out a tart-scented root, all covered in mud and mould. Son of the Nation frowned. He thrust his hand into a sack and took out a handful of soil.
  He snapped sharply, "Get the Chief Storekeeper here."
  A plump man in a crumpled grimy overall ambled in.
  "People are starving, and you, rat,...", snarled Jahmmu.
  Jahmmu jerked the plump man's collar. The overall ripped apart, revealing a gold-embroidered silk shirt. Jahmmu's face turned stiff. He released the storekeeper and said in a low flat voice, "Put him to death. Immediately. In public."
  People in black dragged the plump man away.
  Son's of the Nation appearance to the people went on. Now they were walking along the path of spilt rice.
  Devi tried to interfere, "Oh, Jahmmu, you're quite right, he's a rascal, but death without trial..., isn't it too cruel?"
  "I've pledged to make our country happy, sister, and I'll keep the vow, whatever the price!"
  Peter couldn't help interjecting, "But who's to pay that price? Common people? Did you ask them? Do they agree?"
  "Those who don't are criminals. Rats and rabid wolves rather than humans. As soon as we crush them, everyone will be better off."
  His words made Devi shudder.
  Jahmmu's stare moved from his feet along the narrow rice trail, to a house with a front wall inlayed with blue, green and yellow glass splinters in patterns of peacocks and irises. By the ruler's sign, the guards rushed into the house like a pack of dogs. In a few minutes two of them reappeared in the doorway, pushing a man and a woman out of the house. The third guard came out, shaking an empty lotus-stamped sack in front of Jahmmu's eyes. A gaunt skinny girl, leaning against the door, was sullenly watching the arrested couple being led away.
  "What's going on?" asked Devi, as they went on.
  "Thieves! Stealing from their own people! From themselves! Jackals! Hyenas!"
  "Oh Jahmmu," sighed Devi, "why is it so hard to stay a human in our country?"
  At the moment Tony gave her sleeve a tug.
  "Mom, look, mom! Look!"
  
  
III
  
Bees are diligent and smart,
Skillful in construction art,
So good at honeycomb cells,
But unable of anything else.

First, Idea comes by night,
With shape and color, shade and light.
Next Will, intangible but clear,
Leads people through doubt and fear.

Then for years working hands
Carry out daring plans.
  
  The travelers stood rapt in awe at a gorgeous sight. The street they were following changed into a bridge over a wide, smooth river. Beyond the river, there was a lush park, all in white, rosy and yellow blossom. A palace silhouetted against the park, like a gentle morning cloud, that had descended for a moment, just to have a short rest before sailing up again. The brothers took off their hats and gave an awesome bow to the palace. Oblivious of ragged people around them, of fierce-looking sentries at the gates, the only thing they saw was the palace in her beauty.
  
  The interior of the palace looked rather strange. Uncarpeted floors, covered with colorful tiles, were dented. Stucco ceilings were crumbling, murals, once bright, faded in spots opposite uncurtained windows.
  
  The travelers stayed alone in a meagerly appointed room.
  Tony took a swig of water from a pot, then sprawled on a mat and asked, "Mom, why is uncle Jahmmu so cruel?"
  "He's trying to be fair, son. He's trying his best to be fair."
  The boy burst into laughter.
  "Fair! As if! It sounds as though I smash a cup and you shatter my head with a stone as a punishment."
  Devi didn't have time to answer, as they were called to have lunch with the ruler.
  The dining-room was modest, the lunch was frugal. Jahmmu seemed to pay no attention to the food; he was watching his newly-found sister with great fondness, which made his chiseled face even more handsome.
  "How did you manage to escape?" asked Devi, looking at her brother admiringly.
  "I was badly wounded and unconscious. The nomads reckoned me dead. But later... Oh, what a ruthless revenge I wreaked on them! With a small force of my fearless comrades-in-arms, I swept through the desert, like a hurricane. We've slaughtered all the narrow-eyed we could lay our hands on!
  "Oh, Jahmmu! The brigands had been roaming with me almost for a year, and you'd been killing innocent people!"
  "I couldn't find you, Devi. What was I supposed to do? Did I have to give up the revenge?"
  "But, brother, the revenge didn't bring me back."
  "I wish you knew, Devi, how vile they are, these narrow-eyed! I wish you knew how much suffering befell our country! Barely had we pacified the nomads, the whites arrived on their large ships. Oh, the whites! I wish you knew how greedy and sly they are! Gold, gems, ivory, sandalwood - they coveted everything! When father forbade them to cut out the sandal grove, they shot him dead. I fled to the desert, chased by traitors-nomads like a wild beast.
  "Why do you call them traitors?" asked Peter. "They just took revenge for their people, like you did."
  Jahmmu darted a fierce glare at him and, short of a proper reply, went on, "With a handful of my loyal comrades, I started the sacred war. Oh, I did revenge our father's death - not a single white had stayed alive. Now, by our laws, all the nomads and whites coming to the Land of Ko become our slaves."
  "Oh, no, Jahmmu! Look at my husband, the father of my child, he'd set me free from slavery, never asking anything in return. I wish you knew how many wonderful things he can do! I've dreamed for years that he could teach our people to use tools and make machines. And here is his brother, a musician. I wish you could hear his beautiful songs! See, they've nothing to do with those who'd killed our father! And they are white!"
  "You'd better stayed silent," interrupted her Jahmmu, his face turned frozen.
  "Oh, brother, you won't do them any harm! Promise?"
  "It grieves me to turn you down, Devi, they had saved you, but... To break the law... I can't. I must think it over... Wait, they've taken a good tan, they can speak our language well, they are dressed like us... Have you told anybody who they are?
  "No. We haven't spoken to anyone yet."
  "I need to think it over. I wish you knew how heavy my burden is! Have you seen how my people had portrayed me? I mean the statue? That crown of thorns is my power. It takes all my efforts and all my thoughts."
  "Jahmmu, people are suffering, you yourself are suffering. What for? Life and work can be so enjoyable!"
  "You can't imagine, sister, what it means, to be responsible for the whole nation! I wake up at daybreak and go to bed in the small hours of the morning. I've already done a lot. We've laid out fields and vegetable gardens in place of forests. You've already seen the storehouse. Isn't it great - all food supplies of the capital brought together at one place, distributed at my orders! And from this year on we'll harvest three crops a year, rather than two as before! I wish you knew how clearly I see my great target, my people's happiness! I am ready to die for it! The only bad thing about it is that our people are spoiled. They spoil everything. Honest people are hard to come by. Take that storekeeper. I've chosen him myself from the most honest peasants."
  "You'd made him a storekeeper, and he'd ceased being a peasant," put in Anton in a low voice.
  "What's the most difficult is to teach people anew, to make them all think and act unanimously."
  "Unanimously? Like who? Like you?" asked Peter. "But you cannot cultivate land or build houses, or make clothes. People must be different."
  "Everyone must love his country like me, everyone must give her all his efforts and require in return as little as I do."
  "Work restlessly and live in poverty? What for?"
  "For liberty, equality and justice."
  "These are only words. They exist in your heart - but what if it's evil? They exist in your brain - but what if you're wrong?"
  "I can't be wrong, I am Son of the Nation."
  "You are the son of your father," said Devi. "We all are equal before the people."
  "Tonight you'll see what I am for my people," said Jahmmu meaningfully.
  
  Tony was too small to understand the anxiety of the adults. The boy was delighted - he'd never seen park like this before. Everything looked exactly like mom had used to tell him, trees in full blossom next to those in fruition, bronze four- and six-handed statues among glossy leaves, a waterfall in a gorge. Deer with mighty antlers, antelopes with screw-shaped horns, sluggish big-eyed lories, black white-browed gibbons, rosy flamingoes in the backwater and blue peacocks on the lawns.
  "Mommy! Daddy! Peter! Come along!" called the boy every now and then, dragging the adults with him. They could hardly keep pace with him.
  After a good walk, they made a stopover in a cool gorge under refreshing spray of a waterfall.
  "Is this a mango?" asked Peter holding a ruddy fruit up to his mouth.
  "Stop!" screamed Tony. "Birds have warned me about it. The gardeners have poisoned all the trees along the park perimeter. It's their way of punishing thieves."
  Peter threw away the dangerous fruit, and in doing so startled a resting snake. The snake rose to its full length, inflating its neck, selecting a victim among the stunned people. The only one who was not at a loss was Tony. There he stood, still and composed, his forehead bulging with veins, his eyes unwaveringly opposing mesmerizing snake's gaze. The boy's lips were making weird hissing, whistling, and rustling noises, sometimes he shot out his tongue the way the snakes do. The snake swayed a little, gave a short hiss and slipped away. Devi's knees buckled and she slumped on the grass.
  "It worked, Dad, she did understand me!" sputtered the boy in delight. "I told her that we'd bothered her inadvertently, I asked her to forgive us! I told her we that we were too big for her to eat! I said that we were not her enemies!"
  Anton took his son tightly in his arms and covered him with kisses.
  
  When it grew dark, and Tony, overcome with the day's excitement, went to bed without arguing, Devi, Anton and Peter went out into a huge square, crammed with people, who were peering intently into a bluish darkness studded with blazing torches. Anton lifted his wife and seated her on his shoulders for a better look.
  Cheered with shouts "Glory to the Son of the Nation!" escorted by his comrades, appeared Jahmmu. He raised his arm, and silence fell over the crowd.
  What were the words eagerly caught by the glinting eyes and repeated by the parched lips? What were the appeals chanted by the crowd in a single throat? Why did they shoot their hands up in the air as though it were a single fist?
  "What is he saying? And they?" asked the brothers every now and then, as they couldn't make out the words of the newly-learnt language in the clamor of the crowd.
  "I'll tell you later, let me listen now."
  Devi was listening intently, trying to understand the underlying meaning of high-minded words. When the rally was over, she shrugged her shoulders.
  "The same old story. Liberty, equality, and justice. Sacrifice for the happy future. Hatred to the narrow-eyed and whites."
  Peter shook his head.
  "Liberty without bread, justice without trial, sacrifices for poverty and so much hatred!"
  "We'd better get out of here before it's too late," said Anton warily.
  "Not now. I'm going to talk to Jahmmu. He must understand that..."
  "He won't understand anything."
  "I'll talk to people in the street!"
  "They won't listen to you. Just think, who would dare to oppose the ruler, knowing that he could be easily deprived of food and that no one would help him, as everyone is poor and hungry?"
  "I'll talk to his comrades!"
  "They may be even worse than him."
  "He's my brother! They are my people! I must help them!"
  "It is dangerous here, sweetheart, very dangerous!"
  
  At night they were woken by a horrible wail behind the windows. In answer to their questions, Devi smiled drowsily, "It's all right. It means that the wind season has come around. Ah, you don't know anything about our climate. Twice a year, three seasons take over in turns. At the end of rain season, people plow the wet soil and plant. In dry season, crops ripen and people reap them. Then, in wind season, the topsoil has a rest."
  "Nothing of the sort, mom, it can't be wind season!" retorted Tony. "Haven't you seen peasants hoe the fields? Doesn't it mean that they are going to plant?"
  "It sounds like you're right. But still it's none other than wind out there."
  "Didn't you hear Jahmmu boasting that they were going to harvest crops three times a year?" reminded Anton, "They must be going to plant in wind season."
  Reassured, they got back to sleep, ignoring the wind's wail.
  In the morning, they were awaked by sounds of turmoil in the palace. Guards did not let Devi to her brother. Comrades were hastening down the corridors. The only answer to all questions that could be elicited from servants and comrades was: "vakh-kho", which meant disaster.
  To make things worse, Tony had disappeared. For half a day his worried parents were looking for him around the palace and the park. At last he stormed in, panting, his eyes bulging with excitement.
  "Hey, mom, where are our bandages and drugs? Hurry up, mom, it's urgent, my friend is badly wounded."
  The boy produced a blood-stained chunk of yellow and green feathers that proved to be a parrot.
  "Poor thing, it was badly hurt in the hurricane last night."
  "Hurricane? What hurricane?"
  Now Tony was brimming with news. "Oh, I see, you've no idea of what's happened! A hurricane swept in last night; all the topsoil has been blown away from the fields. And that dumb stinking storehouse has been smashed, along with its rats. Oh, I wish you saw those roofs ripped off the houses. Birds are worrying that we're in for famine. Hey, mom, what about bandages and drugs?
  The boy's father frowned and said, "Oh my, how can you think of that rubbish at such a moment!"
  Tony was fussing around with the parrot while the adults were discussing vakh-kho, the disaster.
  "There's nothing to discuss!" said Devi firmly. "We've got some tents, food and drugs. We can give them out to the people. Our hands may come in useful, too."
  "Hang on, let's think it over," said Peter. "We don't have enough supplies to help everyone. We must figure out the reason of the disaster."
  "That's simple; they had clear-cut the woods, allowing the wind to rampage. They'd chosen the wrong time for plowing, so the wind has blown the topsoil away," said the Cleverhanded.
  "And all that was done by the order of the Son of the Nation, for the welfare of the nation," added Peter. "Okay, the only thing we can do is to go and offer our help."
  
  They found Jahmmu having a council with his comrades. Devi and the brothers were watching him from behind the armed guards in the doorway. At the end of his report of the disaster the ruler addressed the Comrades with the question: "Well then, what shall we do?"
  The Comrades pursed their lips and woefully wrinkled their foreheads. A mustached Comrade next to Jahmmu noticed Devi and the brothers with a sinister grin.
  Peter, surprised with a sustained silence, said, "It goes without saying. We'll help restore houses, we'll hand out food and clothes to the victims. We'll share everything we've got."
  "What are the whites doing here?" asked the Comrade next to Jahmmu, glowering at Peter.
  "They aren't white," lied Jahmmu in cool blood. "One of them is my sister's husband, the other is his brother."
  "They are white, and you know it. It was them who had brought the hurricane."
  "You're lying!
  "The singing tree never lies."
  The Mustached comrade placed a wooden jug on the table. Devi recognized the thing, it was on the table during their lunch with Jahmmu. The Mustached comrade removed the lid, and Devi recognized her own voice: "... and they are white!"
  And her brother's answer: "You'd better stayed silent."
  The Mustached closed the lid and nodded to the guards, "Get them to dungeon!"
  The ruler stood bewildered, watching the guards lead away Anton and Peter. Devi tried to struggle her way to Jahmmu, but she was shoved out of the hall. Somebody whispered in her ear: "Get out, you've got your son to save." Fear for the son was throbbing in the woman's temples. She sprinted back to their room, packed a sack with food and dragged Tony to the exit.
  "No, mom, we can't leave without Daddy's tools." reminded the boy.
  Devi wrapped the tools into a piece of cloth and handed it to Tony, who remembered to take the bandaged parrot with him.
  In bustle and confusion, Devi and her son left the palace unnoticed. Bewildered, they raced along the streets for some time. Then Devi came to her senses and stopped.
  "Where are we running? Anton and Peter are captured... And Jahmmu... What's happened to him? We need to find somewhere to stay..."
  
  
IV
  
"Mom, may I go for a fly?"
"U-m-m, you can try."
"What shall I do for a start?"
"Raise your wings, sweetheart."
"And then?"
"Lower them."
"And then?"
"Raise them again."
"What if I fall down?"
"Then one stops and thinks,
How to use his wings.
If one wants to fly,
There's no other way"
"Mommy, may I...?"
"Of course, you may!"
  
  Davy sat down on the ground, trying to brace herself up.
  Tony was tugging her impatiently, "What's going on, mom? Where are Dad and Peter? Why did we run away?"
  The mother, tears in her eyes, told him what had happened in the council.
  "It's magic! The jug repeated my own words in my own voice!"
  "No magic, mom, no magic at all. The birds have shown me that singing tree. They sing before a hollow tree, and then the tree repeats their song. Oh, mommy, don't panic, we'll help them out. Hey, mom, is there anything to eat?"
  Devi gave him some bread and cheese. Just opposite them, she noticed a lanky brooding girl. The girl was watching the bread disappear under Tony's teeth, open-mouthed. Devi reached for another portion of bread and cheese and offered it to the girl.
  The girl nodded gratefully, crunched down the bread in a second and, instead of "thank you", said, "Lucky you, you've got food."
  "Not so lucky as you think," demurred Tony. "We've nowhere to live."
  The girl's big eyes, fixed Tony blankly, her thoughts seemed to be stirring with exertion behind them.
  "Ummm,... do you have much food, ma'm?" asked she.
  "Here it is - a sackful".
  The girl's eyes flickered as her thoughts were working themselves into words with a noticeable strain.
  "Well, if you promise... to share it with me,... you can stay in my home."
  "Are you sure, dear, that your parents won't mind?"
  The girl dropped her eyes and mumbled sort of a "yes".
  When she led them over to her house, Tony nudged his mother and whispered: "Remember?"
  Devi recalled that house with peacocks and irises over the door and windows.
  There were no adults in the house. The girl, Nadira by name, gorged herself on supper so hastily that Devi asked her, "Hey, dear, aren't you given your ration of rice and vegetables?"
  "I am, but I have to share it with my parents."
  "And where are they?"
  Nadira frowned and paused.
  "As if we don't know," grinned Tony. "They've stolen rice from the storehouse, and the guards have taken them to jail. We've seen it with our own eyes."
  Tears emerged in Nadira's eyes. She broke down.
  "They've been breaking the law all the time! Like stupid children! Daddy had already been to dungeon once, for drawing pictures instead of sweeping the streets."
  "So what? There's nothing bad in drawing pictures."
  "But he hasn't been appointed."
  "If he can draw nice pictures, then he is an artist."
  "Why don't you understand? Artists draw portraits of the Son of the Nation and his Comrades, and what my father did were pictures of birds and flowers. And then they broke the law because of me. I'm always hungry, I even get sick if I don't have enough food. Maybe, that's because I'm growing up too fast. Parents wanted to help me, but they were wrong. Now the three of us have to share my single ration. Oh, I know, you'll leave me now, you'll take your good big sack away with you! Now that you know the truth about them!"
  Devi gave a gentle stroke on Nadira's wiry hair.
  "We'll be sharing our supplies until they are finished. My husband is in dungeon too, like your parents."
  
  In the hunger-stricken city, Devi and Tony had no friends except Nadira and some animals. Ferrets and moles dug a passage from the forest into the dungeon. Every day they brought some food to Anton and Peter. Tony sent a knife and a block of singing tree to the prisoners and Anton carved a pipe for his brother.
  Day after day, Tony and animals were widening the burrow to make it fit for an adult man. The parrot, that had recovered, preferred to stay with Tony rather than return to the forest. The bird had learned to imitate Devi calling "Tony, where are you?" and to shout in the boy's clear voice: "Hey, mom, come on!"
  They still had no news about Jahmmu.
  The other day they heard drum-roll - a crier called everybody to gather at the main square.
  "Hear ye, the people of the Land of Ko! Today you will administer justice by yourselves!" announced the crier.
  Again flares of torches in a dark-blue sky, thousands of people, fierce from undernourishment, tensely peering at the cluster of Comrades, dressed in ceremonial white cloaks and turbans. Devi rose on her toes, looking for her brother, but he was not to be seen. She recognized their four horses amid the Comrades. The horses looked not at all so trimmed and sleek as they had been in Tony's care.
  The Mustached Comrade stepped forward.
  Nadira confidentially whispered into Devi's ear, "His brother was Chief Storekeeper, and then, rumor has it, Son of the Nation came to the Storehouse, and everything was rotten there, and there were stones instead of rice. Well, the Son of the Nation ordered to execute him."
  Devi's heart stung fiercely - that meant that the Mustached comrade had a grudge against Jahmmu.
  
  The thunderous voice of the Mustached was brimming with righteous indignation as he related the story of treason. Son of the Nation had harbored the whites, who had conjured the hurricane to revenge on their people. The watchful comrades had sent the villains to dungeon, they will be executed in due time.
  "The horses that had been brought in by the fiends are now to be shared fairly among the people," heard Devi, her legs and arms getting numb with mounting fear. She saw four men sweeping their axes simultaneously over the horses' necks, the horses' bodies twitching on the ground, quick strokes of axes cutting what were once noble animals into bloody lumps of meat, Comrades in blood-stained aprons giving out these lumps to the jostling crowd.
  The Mustached Comrade went on: "Now the people are to bring a verdict to Jahmmu the traitor."
  With the sounds of drum roll, guards brought tied-up Jahmmu to the square, his shining black hair billowing in the wind, his fathomless black eyes glowing with anguish.
  "This is the man who doomed you to famine. This is the man who broke the law. What does he deserve?"
  And the same crowd that a week ago had chanted "Hail Son of the Nation!" exhaled in a single throat, "Death to the traitor!"
  As the comrades stepped aside, revealing the execution place, that had been prepared in advance. The guards tied Jahmmu to a post, and the mob started hurling flaming torches to the firewood piled around the post.
  "Oh, my people!" bellowed Jahmmu eerily. "It's for you that I lived! Wasn't it me who gave you everything you've got?"
  "Liar!" roared the mob in reply.
  "My parents and grandparents spent their life building your palace and I live in a shack!"
   A gray-haired old man shouted, whacking his chest with his fists, "I've raised rice all my life, staying always hungry myself!"
  Flame enveloped Jahmmu, and Devi fainted. When she recovered, the comrades were dispersing her brother's ashes in the air. The Son-of-the-Nation's statue had already been pulled down; guards were crushing it into small splinters.
  The Mustached comrade went on, "The traitor's sister is still at large. The one who informs us about her location shall get a double ration of rice."
  Thankfully, almost all the women around were fitting Devi's description - small and dark-haired. And then, all of a sudden: "...a scar on the left earlobe."
  Automatically, Devi touched her earlobe. Fortunately, her head, like those of other local women, was covered with a shawl.
  Beside her, Nadira was yelling frantically, "Death to the whites! Death to traitors!"
  
  When the crowd dispersed, Devi made her way to the execution site, trying to pick up her brother's ashes, but she couldn't gather even a handful. She raked in the splinters of the statue, but there was not a single dear feature to be found. Only the lotus flower remained intact. Devi tucked it under her clothes and came back to the peacock house.
  To conceal her grief, she pretended to be cheerful and said to Nadira, "Oh, dear, your shawl is really wonderful! Who has embroidered these beautiful peacocks? Was it your mom?"
  "No, it was me. Mommy's taught me to embroider, and Dad has designed the pattern. Do you really like it? Take it, please! I can make another one for myself!"
  Devi took off her dark shawl to put on the gift, and Nadira noticed the scar on the woman's earlobe.
  
  The girl blinked confusedly.
  "Oh my, what shall I do now?"
  "Rat on us, and you'll get the double ration of rice," snapped Devi bitterly.
  Scared as she was, she couldn't help laughing watching Nadira. The girl's thoughts were almost visible, clinging to each other like rusty cogs and struggling out in snippets of phrases.
  "I am obliged to report... She doesn't get any ration at all and still she's sharing her food with me... She's like mother to me... But what about the law?..."
  Then she addressed Devi hesitantly, "But why, why did you bring about the hurricane?"
  "Can't you see that I'm as much of a witch as you are? I'm not lying, trust me, please!"
  "I'm used to obey the adults... My parents have always told me to obey, but they were wrong themselves, they broke the law... And what if... What if the comrades are wrong too?... And what if the law is wrong?... I don't know what to believe. The only thing I know is that they are punishment and fear, and you are mercy and love. I won't give you away."
  "If you're scared... maybe... we'd better go. I'll leave you all my food. But please don't give us away."
  It looked as though somebody had suddenly greased Nadira's cogs - her thoughts began flowing smoothly. She hugged Devi heartily and said confidently, "You stay!"
  
  
V
  
I never sought fame or wealth,
I breathed, and music was my breath.
I hoped that my candid song
Could help the world redress the wrong.

Alas, however sweet its sound,
It will be lost in a roaring crowd
Amid these filthy gloomy stones,
Will rest forever my lifeless bones.

Oh, humble pipe, may your hole
Retain the music of my soul!
  
  Getting a message from Tony was a great pleasure for the brothers in their dungeon. One more day, and the passage would reach them.
  
  At the click of the key turning in the lock of the door the Cleverhanded hurriedly hid away Tony's note. The Mustached Comrade entered the cell.
  "It looks as though you're real sorcerers, whites! So many days on bread and water, and still smiling. Now listen. If you behave well, you'll be allowed to leave the dungeon. I've been told you're skilful craftsmen, aren't you? You could teach our smiths to make guns and gunpowder. And you, musician, could glorify us, Comrades, with a good song."
  "And then we'll be free?"
  The Mustached burst into a genuine laughter.
  "People will tear you to pieces as soon as you show up in the street! No, you'll stay in the palace. Of course, in chains and iron collars, as is the custom, but alive."
  "Why guns?" asked Anton. "There's no war now, is there?"
  "You're stupid, whites. We're in for famine, and famine is followed by riots. Our government must be strong"
  "What shall I do it from? I don't have either sulfur or niter. "
  "Don't worry, Europeans had found her all they'd needed, even at the same place, in the Twin Mountains. Their workshop has been there ever since. "
  "I've never made arms, I can't, I won't!"
  "Then tomorrow you'll see your brother bricked up alive in a palace's wall, and the day after tomorrow it'll be you turn."
  "But..."
  "Think it over till tomorrow," cut him short the Moustached.
  The door of the cell creaked shut behind him.
  The Cleverhanded said thoughtfully, "Listen, brother, what if I teach them to make guns? After all, it's none of our business, whom are they going to shoot."
  "In your opinion, I must sing praise to this butcher? Oh, brother, I've always deemed you wiser than me. But that was true in our world, familiar and reasonable. Here, the words have lost their habitual meaning, and only our hearts can tell us how to preserve our souls. Do you believe they will ever release us? They may well have me executed tomorrow, but the day after tomorrow you'll be able to escape and save Devi and your son."
  With these words, the musician took his pipe and produced the blithest tune he had ever played. Then he plugged the pipe at both ends and handed it to his brother.
  
  Next day, Anton, his tied fists clenched, unaware of tears running out of his eyes, was watching his brother being bricked up in the palace's wall in front of a sneering crowd.
  
  Tony was digging as fast as he could. He came none too soon. When Anton hoisted himself out of the hole, the boy squealed, "Oh, no, dad! You can't show up in the town like this. Your skin has become all pale in the dungeon! Please, wait for me here till I get some walnuts to darken your skin, so that you won't stand out against local people."
  "Hey, mom, come on!" cawed the parrot in Tony's voice and took off. The boy understood that the bird was showing him the way to a walnut-tree and sprinted after the parrot to the nearby cluster of trees. There he tore a cloth off his shirt, wrapped a few nuts in it and tied up the bundle safely. At that moment, an arrow poked out of the undergrowth. The arrow was moving slowly, as if seeking a target. Having found it, the arrow paused for a moment, and whizzed forward. Tony's arm was slightly hurt.
  "Must be some poor hungry man who took me for a deer. Do I really look like a deer? Never mind, a simple scratch," thought Tony, wiping off a trickle of blood. He was hurrying back to his father.
  "Not so fast, you white bastard! It's because of your mother that I narrowly escaped death, and now you'll die. The arrow is poisoned. You won't get far from here."
  The poison took effect immediately. Tony walked a few steps and slumped to the ground. He was trying to tell something to the parrot, but his lips failed him. The parrot took the bundle in the beak and flew to Anton. The clever bird placed the nuts before the man and started wheeling around him, flapping its wings.
  "Tony! Where are you, boy?" cried the parrot imitating Devi's voice. And then, in the high-pitched boy's voice, he called, "Hey, mom, come on!"
  The Cleverhanded understood and followed the bird.
  He came too late to help his son. Small Tony was to stay forever in the Land of Ko.
  
  
VI
  
The land of secret, cherished dreams
In years of grief and pain,
Your crystal brooks, your blooming trees
Are lulling me again.

But your response to love and trust
Was treacherous and rude,
Misleading was your peaceful rustle,
And poisoned was your fruit.

You're not to blame, you're simply ill,
You're swept in a hurricane,
But I've my own wounds to heal,
Forgive me, if you can.
  
  What transpired in the Land of Ko, could be well described by the dismal word "famine". Slaves fared the worst. They had been hungry ever before, but now they were getting only ten grains of rice a day. They were raking garbage, but starving citizens never threw away anything that could be cooked and eaten. The slaves, maddened with hunger, started to lay down plans for an uprising. By night, the narrow-eyed were making bows and arrows, forging swords and pikes. In the daytime they were rattling their chains, ostensibly obedient, but ready to riot at any moment.
  
  The Cleverhanded easily figured out how to set his brother.
  "Peter's cell is large enough to provide him air for another three days," he told to his wife. In the meantime, we'll make some gunpowder and explode the wall behind which he is enclosed. Don't worry, I know how to do it without damaging Peter or myself."
   Oh, Cleverhanded, how could you be so unwary as to tell secrets before an open window? Hungry slaves were eavesdropping and keyholing on free people in an attempt to find either food or arms. Slaves had seen gunpowder during the war with the whites, they were well aware of its destructive force.
  "We'll blow off the palace along with the comrades, that will be the signal for the outbreak of the uprising," decided the chiefs of the narrow-eyed.
  
  Devi led her husband to the Twin Mountains. And indeed, the workshop had survived. There, in dusty sacks Anton found everything he needed. On the way back they kept discussing the quickest way to manufacture the required amount of powder, unaware of being stealthily followed by narrow-eyed slaves.
  
  For some unknown reason Anton miscalculated, and they fell short of raw materials. So they had to walk over the mountains in search of ingredients. Fortunately, the Mustached had told the truth. In the mountain caves Anton found spots where sulfur and niter cropped out on the surface. On the following morning he had the impression that there was less powder than he had left on the previous night, but since he had no scales, he couldn't check his doubts. The whole preparation took him three days instead of two. Finally he told his wife about his plan:
  'I've left a sack of gunpowder in the heap of garbage in front of the palace. There is a cord running from the sack across the square. All you have to do tonight is to put fire to the cord. Don't be scared, you'll have enough time to escape, before the fire gets along the cord to the gunpowder. When the blast goes off in front of the palace and all the guards gather up there, I'll destroy the wall of Peter's cell. Don't be afraid, it'll be all right.'
  
  Next night Anton and Devi were slinking to the palace, shuddering at the faintest crunch. Streets seemed deserted, but they felt somebody's eyes on them. Maybe, vague shapes lurking in dark corners were just their imagination. "Have no fear, sweetheart, we'll do it," whispered the Cleverhanded to his shivering wife. But suddenly... the palace was blown sky-high in a fiery fountain, and at that very moment lurking shapes separated from the walls at one stride, wielding a torch in one hand, and a pike in the other. Those who had no arms were madly swinging their chains. The crowd of narrow-eyed charged to plunder burn and kill hated exploiters.
  
  The palace was reduced to rubble. Anton and Devi took shelter in the ruins. At dusk they floundered stealthily to the peacock house, which they found looted. Devi's sack of foodstuffs was gone. Fortunately, no one bothered to take Anton's tools - they couldn't be eaten. All the night they were looking for Nadira in the nearby streets among deserted houses, all in vain. There was no reason for staying in the Land of Ko any longer.
  They made their way to the bay lurking through ravaged fields.
  The ship was swaying serenely on the waves where they had left her. But, alas, the hurricane had damaged it badly. Anton was at a loss.
  "You can fix it with the tools that Tony had saved," said Devi in a low voice.
  Kissing his wife, Anton thought sadly that they would never be happy again without Tony.
  
  When the Cleverhanded had repaired the ship, Tony's parrot flew out of the forest and settled on Anton's shoulder.
  The Cleverhanded and his wife set sail away from the green coast, where they had expected to find so much and lost everything instead.
  
  The ship put in at the Island of Eternal Summer.
  The Serpent greeted the travelers and asked Devi, "Have you found your relatives?"
  Then the Serpent swiveled his head about and asked in surprise:
  "But where's your brother? And where's your cute boy?"
  "This is all that remained of them." Anton took out a pipe, carefully wrapped into Nadira's embroidered shawl.
  "Here is Peter's last song. And the parrot on my shoulder has brought us the last message from Tony."
  Golden sparks flickered in the Serpent's yellow eyes.
  "Follow me," he ordered slipping down from his dais.
  In the Magic Birds' Garden the King led them up to the flat stone. At the King's command, monkeys piled twigs on the stone and set them on fire.
  The Serpent pointed at the pipe and the parrot with the tip of his tail and said, "Throw it into the fire."
  Anton couldn't resolve on losing the only memories of his brother and son. Suddenly the Serpent's tail grabbed the parrot and the pipe along with the shawl and hurled them into the fire with the words, "They have preserved their souls, that's what counts. Kudasai-arigato!"
  Lo and behold! The flames split apart and out of it... Tony, the parrot on his shoulder, and Peter showed up, well and unharmed. Behind them, from the charred remainders of the shawl emerged ungainly Nadira, followed by two unknown people, that had to be the girl's parents.
  Devi asked the magician hopefully, "Maybe, you can bring back to life my brother too?"
  She tossed the stone lotus flower into the fire.
  The Serpent uttered the spell, "Kudasai-arigato!"
  For a passing moment, Jahmmu's silhouette appeared, his hair billowing, his arms outstretched as though he tried to say something - and vanished. The flames died out.
  "His soul must have been damaged," said the Serpent softly.
  
  ...Far away from there, in the town of Iznemot, Ian the merchant was waiting for his brothers, eager to tell them about his adventures.
  
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