. . .Chapter III continued

"So be it," she said with joy in her eyes. Then she crumpled up the leaves and mixed them with water that she squeezed from her always moist hair. She then took this mixture and rubbed it all over the little otter's body. "Go and bath in the pool and drink of its waters that flow from the base of the crystal stone. Think royal lion thoughts as you drink," she said, and swam away.

A while later, near a secret cove where a tall greenish, blueish crystal stood near the bank of the pool, a golden lion trod away into the woods of Numptt on great padded feet, and watching him leave from across the pool was a tan colored horse with jet black eyes.

The calico mouse spent the whole day and most of the night looking for the young man. He was sorry that his two benefactors had moved even further apart as a result of his meddling, but he still had hope for a remedy, but first he would have to find the young man.

He asked many animals and birds if they had seen him, but none had. He asked the wood nymphs if they had seen him, but none had seen them that day. It was only by following a mysterious tan colored horse that he was able to find the young man finally. He followed the horse through a grove of birch trees till they came to a pool with a waterfall. The young man was lying on the bank, staring intently into the pool. Strangely, as soon as the mouse spotted the young man the horse disappeared into the shadows of the woods. He was used to strange happenings by now, so he went over imediately to see his friend

The pool was full of pearl white fish and rainbow speckled fish. The rainbow speckled fish were chasing the white fish, and when they caught them a flash of light would surround them both, and then a blinding flash of light, and from the light would emerge two birds, and each pair was a different kind of bird. The mouse noticed that each time a new pair was born the young man's eyes became bluer, and clearer.

"I have saved your harp for you," he said to the young man, "but I'm much too small to have carried it this far. It was then that he noticed the tan colored horse looking at the young man from the woods on the other side of the pool.

"At last you are here," said the young man, "you know, I'm going to see the willow maid after all, and I'm going to tell her that I love her. Don't you think it would be wise for me to do so?"

The calico mouse was so happy for the young man that he hollered out to the tan colored horse to join them, so that he too might hear the tale of the young man's love for the willow maid. But the young man's face hardened with sadness when he saw the horse,for he had seen this horse before, in his dreams, and knew that somehow that its appearance marked the night of his death. When he saw the reflection of himself in the horses jet black eyes, he turned away, and ran blindly toward the Blackened Land, thrusting aside the throny bushes as he went.

The willow maid spent her day planning how to attract the young harpist to her. First, she put on her snow white dress, made from the feathers of the famous peacocks of Lirnn. Then she sprinkled her hair with Oil-of-a-thousand-lilies fragrance, and she put on the necklace that her sister had given her. She brought out the mother-of-pearl shoes that her mother had left her, and put them on in awe, for they were very old, but looked as if they had just been made. Then she dreamt of the moment of their meeting over and over until it was like a gem in her mind. Then when her heart was ready she went out of her tree and walked to the bridge by the meadows, where she knew that love was fated to meet her.

It is at the bridge by the meadows, at evening time, that the orange breasted swifts come to dance on air, over and under the arched bridge they fly, with heart renching grace and the silence of thought. Evenings at the bridge are always peaceful, but on the evening that the willow maid came to the bridge the whole world fell silent, and an air of anticipation whispered throughout the woods. And then the swifts flew high overhead, as if they were searching for someone. She heard a lion roar, and the unearthly bay of freightened hounds.

The young man ran on and on, thrashing with his arms as he crashed through the thick brush. He ran on and on into the deepest, darkest part of the woods, to where the winter tree stood over the blackthorn swite's house was. The blackthorn swite was a creature of shadow. His body was made of wind and leaves, his teeth were nothing but long purple thorns, and his eyes looked like black coat buttons. The forest where he lived was called the Blackened Woods, because it was a part of the Blackened lands, the wasteland that fell under the blackthorn swite's sway. The blackthorn swite and his fire dogs (black horse sized dogs with horns like bulls and red eyes and flaming tongues), were the only creatures that dwelled in that land.

By the time the young man realized that he had run under the giant winter tree, it was too late. The blackthorn swite flew at him like a specter, and pinned him against the huge trunk of the winter tree.

"Yes," sobbed the young man bitterly, then, "no," he said firmly, "I can still play the harp."

"You call that playing?" laughed the blackthorn swite with a laugh like peeling thunder, "I have heard the ice in winter play livelier tunes than that misery you call playing."

"The willow maid loved it," said the young man miserably.

"What women say and what they feel are two different things boy."

"She didn't say anything," said the young man, "she showed it with her eyes," he said with recognition. And she had shown it with her eyes. She had loved his playing, she truly had. And since he put his whole being into his music, hadn't she also loved him, just a little?"

"You're fantasizing boy, listen to me . . ."

"No!" yelled the young man at the top of his lungs, "I'm sick to death of listening to your lies." Then he ripped away from him, and ran for his very life, for he knew that the blackthorn swite could summon his fire dogs to chase the living. He ran and ran, and then he thought that he heard the unearthly howling of the blackthorn swite's hounds, but then he heard the earth shaking roar of a lion, followed by the frightful yelps of many hounds being chased. Yet nothing chased him.

After he was safely away from the Blackened Woods, he ran on toward the river, laughing with joy, for suddenly he remembered his dream of the Mother Blessing, and her words of wisdom. They were simple words really, but spoken with all of the beauty of the heart. "Take care of her with all of your love," she had said, "and accept her love at every turn. Love and be loved, and all will go well with you." Suddenly for the first time since he was a child he knew exactly what to do .

From deep within the flame of his heart came a song, a song without words. It was like a nightengale's song, but more intricate. As he sang his old clothes began to fall off him, until soon he was standing naked in the woods. Then something wonderous began to happen. The birds that he had set free, and the swifts from the river began to bring him new clothes. The swifts brought him a golden shirt from Lyndalf Hill. The eagles brought him a belt from the fire mountains. The herons brought him pants from the yellow moon, and the black birds brought him boots and stockings from that famous shoemaker that travels the road from Annwfn to Prydein and back again. And the black swans brought him a mantle from the black isle of Eslor.

As the young man put on his new clothes, his ugliness began to fall away also. The last thing he put on was his mantle, and as he clipped the brooch which was brought by the sparrows from the old man who went to learn how to walk on the water, which he had crafted himself in an intricate knotwork pattern of silver and gold, there was a sickening moan that was heard from the direction of the blackened lands. But the young man did not heed it, for on the path ahead of him he saw through the trees not to far distant, the willow maid in her white dress standing on the bridge, her heart and eyes expectant.

The willow maid had been standing on the bridge for a while, and saw many unusual things while waiting for her love. She wondered what magical event was taking place, and whether it concerned her love.

She watched the pink sunset, and saw the first wink of the evening star. She saw the wood nymphs skip out of their trees, and wondered at the column they made on either side of the path that came down to the river from the woods. Her heart sighed in her breast, but was patient, as new mysteries paraded before her. She smiled to see a white mountain lioness peer at her shyly from behind some trees. And she watched with wonder asa golden lion chased a pack of fire dogs and a dark thing made of shadow and leaves southward, toward the murky lake. She saw an old man with a face wrinkled with many lines of joy walking slowly up the path on her side of the river. Then she saw a calico mouse atop a tan colored horse, that was lead by a beautiful man with a harp, a wonderous man with large tears in his eyes, who she knew played music like an angel.

At first they looked at each other shyly, but then they embraced like two winds trying to take shape, and kissed that one kiss that everyone dreams of when they are young.

Then they turned to the old man, who was smiling at them, his eyes twinkling with joy. The whole world knew that this was a marriage, the marriage of two people who loved with true love. They were married on the arched bridge by the old man who could walk on the water, and they had as witnesses a calico mouse, a tan colored horse, giggling wood nymphs who threw star blossoms every where, a white mountain lioness, a river nymph who watched from the waters near the bridge, and a whole forest of little creatures who all came to see this great beauty.

It is said that the young man and the maid lived a long life together in the kingdom of Lirnn, and were always joyously in love with the other, and had three wonderous daughters, whose stories are famous near and wide. It is also said that the old man moved back into his old tree house, and that the calico mouse stayed on in the garden, and that both were in the habit of telling tall stories to anyone who would listen, and that both were in the habit of traveling to the kingdom of Lirnn, for very long and welcome vacations.

Remember me? Sick and in bed throughout most of this tale. As I said, I did not ever remember this tale until years later back on this earth, when the story sprang into my mind like a beam of light through the clouds. I hardly stirred at all throughout her beautiful telling of this tale, which I am sure she wove out of the threads of my karma. What I did remember upon waking up in a sweat a day or so after her tale was finished, but it was during the story that my fevor broke, and they decided it would be prudent to move me back into my room at Pellenas' home. It was not time for me to have a further relationship with the girl is what they told me years later. What I rememver was a very real dream of being chased by something nameless through a dark and musty forest, where everywhere was falling brown leaves. Brown leaves that would swirl around and choke me. But then off to the right I saw a wonderful orchard of apple trees, and walking very quitely, very much like she was lost in meditation was Brignatia. I struggled to get out of the woods for the longest time it seemed, but always the storm of leaves kept me from getting out of the dark forest. Finally I heard her calling back to me as she moved further away, "Sing little one, sing." I was never a good singer, but I tried. My first attempt was very poor, but I kept trying, because I wanted desperately to reach her, to talk to her and see her beautiful eyes again. Then suddenly it happened, it was like the chime of a wonderful not in the center of my brain that radiated outward through my whole being. I sang some more, and suddenly I was lighter than air, and could move freely. Suddenly I was out, and was sitting under an apple tree, where Brignatia was also sitting. As I was about to begin talking she put her index finger to her lip and whispered "hush my child." Then she handed me the most beautiful apple I had ever seen. It was white, with a slight almost transparent red blush around the center. As I took it from her hand the whole world turned black and I feel into deep dreamless sleep, and the feavor had broke.

When I woke from my trial, there was a real white apple just like the one I had seen in my dream sitting on the night stand beside my bead. And the first words I heard were from Brignatia: "You are still alive, little one."

Chapter IV

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