The Feast

At precisely one o’clock a horn sounded and all the talking was silenced. With the help of a loudspeaker Bella welcomed everyone to the feast. She told us that children would pass amongst us and collect the snakeskins. (Someone on our table didn’t have one, so I passed down my spare.) Once they were all collected, the ceremony for calling in the snakes would begin. Dozens of children ran about and the task was completed in about five minutes.

All the snakeskins were put into a bright copper cauldron and set alight. Bella sprinkled something over the pot and produced a miniature fireworks display, which was cheered and clapped. After this she and Trevor wove their way through all the tables singing a song in a strange language. I couldn’t understand the words, but it was pleasant to listen to. They ended up in front of the gong and Bella raised her arms and shouted an incantation. Then she brought her arms down swiftly. At this point hands shot over ears – except I was a bit slow – and Trevor struck the gong with the mallet. It was a very deep tone, and not only made my ears ring but made me feel a bit nauseous too. He struck the gong three times and then all eyes turned to the woods. As the ringing died away the snakes appeared. The ground appeared to be seething with them – every size and colour.

As soon as the snakes appeared, so did the food. There was meat, fish and fowl; hot seasonal vegetables; salads, soups, fruit; puddings, pies and cake. Jugs of mead and lemonade were placed on the tables too.

We were asked to lift the snakes onto the tables; offer them tiny morsels of all the foods and then set them back on the ground. This seemed less than hygienic to me, but we did as asked. Fortunately, the snakes were very docile and didn’t slither all over the food. When they had been fed and were placed back on the ground, they all headed back to the woods and the feast got underway for us humans.

There were acrobats, clowns and jugglers to entertain us while we ate. The food was delicious and after we’d finished eating, the tables were removed and replaced by a wooden dance floor. A lively band played jigs and reels, and we all had a whale of a time. The dancing continued through the night, but I caved around ten thirty and went to bed, thoroughly exhausted but very happy.

I passed Bella on the stairs and winked at her.
‘I know your secret,’ I said.
‘What secret?’
‘The snakes. It’s the gong, isn’t it? Nothing to do with charms and incantations.’
She put her finger to her lips, ‘Shhhh!’ she said. ‘Don’t let the cat out of the bag. The visitors like a bit of pomp and circumstance.’
‘Don’t worry, Bella. Your secret’s safe with me.’ I gave her a big hug and went to my room.

The Day of the Serpents

I woke the next morning to sounds of activity outside. Trestle tables and benches were being arranged in circles around the duck pond, and more were being placed on the part of the common that was not cluttered with tents. The children were all helping and there was a great deal of merriment.

I washed and dressed and wandered outside. The landlord seemed to be directing things.
‘Good morning. I’m glad the rain stopped.’ I said.
‘Yes. It’ll be a good day for it.’
‘How will you cater for so many people?’
‘Oh, we don’t do it all. The whole village is involved in providing the feast.’
‘How do the snakes get here?’
‘Bella sings to them, and they come out of the forest.’
‘But, snakes are deaf aren’t they?’
‘Are they? I never knew that. It must be the charm she uses.’

Just then Bella emerged from the inn and came to join us. Only three hats this morning, but all of them different from yesterday.
‘Would you like to take a stroll with me?’ she asked.
‘I would. You can tell me all about how you charm the snakes.’
‘Oh, if I did that, dear, I’d have to kill you,’ and she chuckled at her joke. At least I think it was a joke.
‘How can you sing a charm to snakes when they can’t hear?’ She tapped the side of her nose and winked at me.

We walked to the far side of the pond as we talked. She asked me how Hecate was and we talked of her little cottage. Apparently it had been in the family for centuries. When we reached the other side of the duck pond we met a group of men hauling an enormous gong onto the grass. It must have been about six feet across and was mounted on a large timber frame on wheels. Another man was carrying a large, leather covered mallet. A dinner gong that could call people from miles away! Bella shouted ‘hello’ to the group and we made our way back to the inn.
‘Join me for breakfast, Bella?’ She agreed and we went inside.
‘Will you be attending the Gorgon ceremony tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘I’m not very fond of smelly cheese.’
‘Huh!?’ She looked puzzled. ‘It’s not a cheese. Its ‘The Gorgon’, like in mythology.’
‘Oh! What’s involved in that then?’
‘Well, you have to perform for her, and if you do a good job she removes one of her veils and imparts some wisdom.’
‘It’s not painful karaoke, is it? I don’t do karaoke.’
‘It can be anything of your choosing.’
‘Hmmm. I’ll have to think about that. I don’t sing; can’t juggle or do magic tricks and my dancing days are over…….I might just watch.’
‘Oh, and while I think about it, don’t forget to take your snakeskin to the feast.’
‘Aaand what snakeskin would that be? I don’t have a snakeskin. Do they skin the snakes?’
‘No, the skins that the snakes slough off each year are collected by the children and decorated.You have to have one to be seated at the feast.’
‘Where will I get one?’
‘One of the stalls will be selling them.’
‘OK, I’ll go and get one.’

Bella went off to prepare herself for the calling-in of the snakes, and I wandered through the stalls on the common, looking for the snakeskin merchant.

The stall was painted all over with brightly coloured snakes, and the proprietors were a couple of children about nine years old.
‘You have a beautiful tent,’ I said.
‘We painted it ourselves. Not just us………all of the kids.’
‘Well, you’ve done an excellent job of it.’
‘Do you want to buy one?’ asked the little girl.
‘I do indeed. Which one would you recommend?’
‘I painted the purple and orange one,’ she said, ‘An’ I did the spotty one,’ said the boy.
‘Those were the ones that I like the best, too. I’ll take them both. How much are they?’
‘Three dollars each.’ They beamed. I handed over a ten dollar note and told them to keep the change.
‘Carry them carefully,’ said the little boy, ‘ ’cause they tear easy.’
‘I will. Thank you very much.’
I carried my purchases back to my room and laid them carefully on the bed.

At twelve thirty I made my way through the tables looking for ‘E’ and the others taking the donkey trek. They saw me first and waved and shouted. I sat down, together with my snakeskins, and we all swapped tales of our adventure so far.

At the House of Serpents

I wandered back to the larger front room of the inn. The landlord, a tall, beefy fellow, beckoned me to a corner table where a ploughman’s lunch was laid out – thick slices of crusty home-made bread, sharp cheese and some pickles.
‘Are you Beryl?’
‘I am, yes.’
‘Will this be alright for you? Only we don’t do hot meals at lunchtime.’
‘That looks delicious. Thank you.’
‘You’re a friend of Bella’s, then?’
‘No. More a friend of her sister’s, really.’
‘You’ve come for the festival, have you?’
‘That was not my intention when I came through the tollgate, but events seem to have overtaken me somewhat.’
‘There’s no need to be scared of the snakes, you know. Bella does her thing, and no-one’s ever been bitten.’
‘I’m not scared of snakes. Now if it was spiders, I’d be looong gone! Don’t like spiders. What actually happens at the festival?’
‘It begins tonight, at sunset. Bella and Trevor – he’s a warlock – go into the woods with incense burners and incantations to mollify the snakes. They’ll be out there all night. Come sunup they’ll be back in here getting ready for the next phase. Visitors are welcome to follow them at a discrete distance, if you’d like to go.’
‘I think I’d rather have an early night than be wandering about in the woods in the dark.’
‘Well, dinner’s served from six thirty and your room’s number seven. You’ll join in the fun tomorrow, won’t you?’
‘Oh, yes. It’s just that I’ve done enough communing with nature to last me for a while. What happens tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow’s the Day of the Serpents, when the snakes are invited to dine with us.’ He gave me a wink and went off to serve someone. I wondered if rats and mice would be on the menu.

I ate my lunch then went outside to get my saddlebags. I was met by a wiry young man, who tugged at his forelock and introduced himself.
‘I’m Cedric, Missus. Th’ ostler.’
‘Oh good. Can I leave Maria in your capable hands then?’
‘You can. What’s your room number? I’ll put her in that stall. All her tack will be in there as well.’
‘I’m in seven.’
‘Seven it is then.’
‘Thank you very much.’ I took the saddlebags and went up to my room.

It was not a large room, but the bed was soft and there was a washbasin and jug of water on a stand. The window overlooked the duck pond and common. I slipped off my shoes and lay down on the top of the quilt. I could hear all the people on the common, but before too long it all became a murmur and I nodded off.

………………………………

I was awakened by the sounds of shouting and cheering. I hurried to the window to see what was happening. It was almost dark and a small procession was heading off around the pond. The diminutive Bella was in the lead. Gone was the assortment of hats. She now wore what once might have been a pointy, witches hat. Now it was sort of………….limp. The brim had lost its stiffness and the point had collapsed in on itself. The sad hat was offset by a bright red gown and Bella’s beautiful smile. She was followed by a very tall, gaunt, serious man – obviously Trevor of warlock fame – whose hat still had some substance. They carried lamps and were swinging incense burners. A small group of children was capering along behind them, but when they left the confines of the village the children didn’t follow.

I washed ready for dinner and as I opened the door of my room I saw that someone had pushed an envelope underneath. I picked it up. A card inside said:

You are invited to attend the Banquet for the Snakes, tomorrow.
Please be seated by 1pm.
Signed ‘E’

I really hoped it was not going to be rats and mice.

To Meet a Charmer

The next morning we were up bright and early, just after sunrise. I’d slept wonderfully well on the sofa and felt more rested than I had for several days. I went outside to find Maria, and it was raining. Not heavily, but the sort of drizzle that wets you through before you realise it. I called Maria and heard a snuffle and a stamp from inside the barn. She must have found her way in there when the rain started. She doesn’t like to be wet. I fed and watered her and got her ready for the journey.

Hecate and I had a hearty breakfast of porridge followed by new-laid eggs and soldiers. We washed it down with a pot of spiced coffee. She then told me to make myself some sandwiches for on the road, while she filled and labelled a bottle made of ruby-red glass. She put in a cork and sealed it with candlewax.
‘Give this to Bella, and tell her she’s to take one teaspoonful three times a day until the festival finishes. You make sure she takes the first dose and then she won’t forget.’
‘How will I recognise her? Does she look like you?’
‘No, nothing like me, but you can’t miss her – she likes hats.’ I found this remark rather cryptic. Hecate wrapped the potion in some paper and put it into my saddlebag. I donned my waterproof cape and climbed into the saddle.
‘Thank you for sharing your home with me,’ I said, ‘I’ll make sure Bella takes the potion when I give it to her. How far away is this House of Serpents?’
‘It’s another five bends to Fothergill. You should be there by noon. Give Bella my love and tell her to come and stay with me for a while when the festival ends.’
‘I will. I’ll head off now. It was very nice meeting you.’
‘You too, Beryl. Ooooh! I almost forgot.’ She pulled a scroll from her apron pocket. ‘Here’s your sole reading.’ I thanked her and added it to contents of the saddlebag, then urged Maria out onto the road.
‘Oh, and Beryl………..the glasses,’ I gave her a quizzical look, ‘You know, the ones in your bag? They’re night glasses. You can see in the dark with them.’
‘Cool! Until we meet again, Hecate,’ and I gave her a wave and set off for the House of Serpents in the village of Fothergill.

Travelling the road that morning was not pleasant. Everyone in Lenore seemed to be heading for the festival and there was a lot of traffic. Some of it, quite impatient. The weather added nothing to the experience either. The drizzle persisted and was accompanied by a light breeze which chilled both me and Maria. Snakes or no, I was quite looking forward to getting a roof over my head again. I tried to keep track of how many bends we turned, but the sameness of the road had a hypnotic effect on me, and I only returned from daydreaming when I heard the crowds that were gathering. We had reached Fothergill.

The village common was littered with tents of various sizes, shapes and colours. This was obviously the big event of the year for the locals. There were stalls selling drinks and pies. Others were piled high with cakes and sweets. Several of the stalls were doing a roaring trade in rubber snakes. Small children were under foot, splashing in puddles and shrieking with laughter. Those closest to them were not impressed.

I wandered through the throng, looking for the House of Serpents and found it at the far end of the common by the duck pond. Many donkeys were tethered outside and I added Maria to the mix. I put the potion in my pocket then pushed open the heavy oak door. The hinges screamed, causing many heads to turn and study me for a few seconds before returning to their conversations. One of the heads belonged to Bella, and Hecate’s cryptic remark suddenly made sense.

Bella was bedecked in a total of four hats. She had a bright, cherry-red beanie on her head. This was topped by a sea-green beret. On top of these was a floppy brimmed sunhat in a floral fabric, and the whole ensemble was held in place by a straw boater, tied with a yellow ribbon. Strangley enough, the concoction suited her!
She was a tiny wisp of a woman, and the wrinkles displayed on her face were mostly laughter lines. She had cornflower blue, bright button eyes that looked full of mischief. She came straight towards me; grabbed my hands and said, ‘Hello, Beryl. I’ve been expecting you. Come through to the back room.’

I followed her into a small, cosy lounge where I told her I’d brought a potion from Hecate. ‘You have to take one teaspoonful right now,’ I said, ‘and Hecate wants you to go and stay with her for a while after the festival’s over.’ She swallowed a teaspoonful of the mixture and said she’d think about a visit.
‘You won’t forget to take your medicine, will you?’
‘No dear, I won’t forget, but I must go now and prepare for the charming. I’ve ordered a meal for you, and you have a room reserved for the next three days, if you want it.’
‘Thank you. I am rather hungry, and a proper bed will be a blessing.’
She gave me a kindly smile and scurried out of the door.

Hubble Bubble

‘My feet are clean and sweet smelling. Now what?’ I said.
‘Put one of them on this piece of paper and I’ll draw around it.’ I did as I was told, and Hecate proceeded to examine my feet and scribble things down on the drawn footprint.
‘Hmmm……….you’ve got very long toes.’
‘I know, and we did all the ‘monkey’ jokes when I was at school. They’re actually very useful for picking stuff up off the floor, though.’
She continued with her scribbling.
‘So where will I find your sister?’
‘She works at the House of Serpents.’
‘Is that a pub?’
‘It’s a hostelry of sorts……………….. but at this time of year it’s the centre of the Serpent Festival.’
‘That sounds interesting.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’
‘What does your sister do, exactly?’
‘She’s the charmer of the snakes.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘How many snakes?’
‘All of them. They number in the hundreds.’
‘So she’s a wi…………. a herbalist too?’
‘Oh, yes. All the females in the line have the gift. We are direct descendants of Mother Shipton, the famous fifteenth century Yorkshire witch.’
‘You’re a long way from Yorkshire!’
‘Yes, well when we got into our eighties we thought it would be nice to spend our golden years in a warmer climate, so we came here. There’s always a place for a good herbalist, no matter where you go.’
‘You’re eighty!?’
‘Oh, bless you, no dear. I’m ninety-eight and Belladonna, my sister, is a hundred and five.’
‘Jeeeez! Can you bottle it? You’d make a fortune!’

She got up and made a pot of tea for us both.
‘As I told you earlier, Belladonna has a few memory problems from time to time. I think this might be her last year as the charmer. She can’t stuff up the charming of the snakes or someone might get bitten. Not good for business. That’s why I want you to take my potion to her before the festivities commence.’
‘When would that be?’
‘Tomorrow, at sunset. You’ll stay the night with me, if you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, and you can head off early in the morning. I’d go myself, but I have a lot of people relying on me here………. and you have a donkey. I’d have to walk.’

We sat and talked through the afternoon. What a long and interesting life the woman had had. In the evening we joined forces to make a delicious chicken soup and when the sun went to bed, so did we.

The sofa was much more comfortable than the forest floor, and I went out like a light.

Granny Up a Tree

It was a different face at the tollgate that morning. There must have been a shift change overnight. This one was a pimply-faced youth, and he was filling in his time by squeezing his pimples. How delightful.
‘Morning, Missus. Have you got something for me?’
‘I have, but you can go and wash your hands before I give it to you.’
He looked a bit miffed, but went into the shed and came out a couple of minutes later. ‘All clean,’ he said, turning his hands about so that I could see. I handed him my matchbox.
‘That it?’ he said. ‘It’s not very big.’
‘It’s big enough. Now, just what happens to all these boxes you collect?’
‘The Council gets ‘em all.’
‘And what do they do with them?’
‘Search me! I’m just a collector.’
‘We’ll be on our way, then. How many miles to the next town?’
He scratched his head. ‘Dunno, but it six bends away.’
‘Fair enough. Have a happy day, young man, and stop picking at your pimples. You’ll just make them worse.’

We carried on along the road, and now we could see others in the distance, too. Around the next bend I could see smoke above the trees. Maybe it would be an inn. Before we got there, there was an ‘Oi!’
Another voice, and nobody about. I looked up expecting another bird. Instead it was a granny. She was sitting on a branch dangling her legs.
‘Are you stuck?’ I said.
‘What?’
‘Can’t you get down?’
‘ ‘ course I can.’
‘Were you ‘Oi-ing’ me?’
‘Nobody else about is there? Is your name Beryl?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘Been expecting you.’
‘Have you? Are we destined to meet then?’
‘Yup!’
‘I hope you aren’t expecting me to come up there.’
She leapt from the branch like a startled gazelle and landed daintily on the balls of her bare feet.
‘You’re very spritely for one of your vintage.’ I said.
‘Follow me, and I’ll make you a nice cuppa.’ That was an offer too good to refuse. We walked around the bend to a tiny thatched cottage, nestled in a rambling, riotous garden.

‘You know my name. Would you mind telling me yours?’
‘It’s Hecate.’
‘You’re not going to tell me you’re a witch, are you?’
‘Herbalist, dear. We prefer the term ‘herbalist’ these days. Sit yourself down and I’ll put the kettle on.’ She swung a hob over the open fire and set the kettle on it. I collapsed in a comfy chair by the fire.
‘I was expecting you yesterday, but you didn’t turn up.’
‘I had a small hitch at the tollgate. No Surrender Box, but I managed to sort one out.’
‘There you are, Beryl. A nice cup of tea and a hemlock scone.’ My eyes widened and she started to chuckle.
‘Just a little herbalist humour, dear. They’re really cheese and rosemary.’
They were very tasty too.
‘OK, so why am I here?’ I said, brushing crumbs from my bosom.
‘I am a reader of soles.’
‘Oh, not more psyche stuff. I had a magpie trying to get me to surrender part of my psyche.’
‘No, no! Soles,’ she said, pointing to her feet, ‘not souls.’
‘So, is that a bit like reading palms?’
‘Similar.’
‘Do you throw in a massage. I love having my feet massaged.’
‘No. I read your feet – that’s it!’
‘I presume there is some sort of cost involved?’
‘Just a small one. I want you to take a package to my cousin in the next town.’
‘What’s in it? I’m not trafficking drugs!’
‘Just a potion to aid memory. Nothing illegal. She’s getting on in years and gets confused at times.’
‘Oh, don’t we all? OK. It’s a deal. I’d better wash my stinky feet before you start.’
‘I’ll just pop outside and unsaddle your donkey and give her a drink. Then she can wander about in the woods and eat the grass.’

A Visit from Merlin

I was no wiser about what to do when I awoke the next morning. No deep and meaningful dreams; no revelations. I thought about sneaking past the tollgate through the woods, but decided against that idea. This place is full of magic and I’m sure not all of it is used for good.

I only possessed two boxes. One held all the First Aid stuff, which needed to be kept clean and dry, and the other held matches. I could use the matchbox I supposed. There was no mention of size on the information sheet, and if I tarted it up a bit maybe it would be acceptable. Then again, what would fit inside it but matches?

‘It will take an intangible,’ said a voice. My head whipped around but I could see no-one. Great! Now I was losing the plot and hearing voices.
‘The matchbox. It will take an intangible.’ Again! ‘I’m up here.’ I looked up and there was a magpie sitting in the tree above me.
‘Nah! Can’t be.’
‘Yes, it’s me who spoke.’
‘It doesn’t sound like you.’
‘Of course it does. What do you mean?’
‘Birds have sort of croaky voices when you see them in cartoons.’
‘HeLLO! We aren’t in a cartoon.’
‘No, but you shouldn’t sound human, and……………… (I can’t believe I’m having a conversation with a magpie).’
‘Well you are. My name’s Merlin, by the way.’
‘Of course it is.’
‘No need to be facetious. You were quite happy to talk to the owls.’
‘Just exactly what do you mean by ‘an intangible’?’
‘An emotion. Something from your psyche.’
‘Like what!?’
‘Only you can know that.’
‘Well, that’s a big help. I can’t think of any part of my psyche that I don’t need. Maybe I’ll try and make something bigger, and surrender my dirty laundry, and that scruffy youth can wash it.’
‘I can’t see you managing that in a hurry.’
‘No, probably not. Thanks for your help. Don’t let me keep you from your magpiely duties.’ It squawked, emptied its bowels on my sleeping bag and flew off.
‘Thanks for sharing, Merlin! Well Maria, we are no nearer a solution. I don’t want to surrender any part of my psyche and the only other thing I have of any value is my talisman – the Sacred Spiral. I wonder if that would fit in the matchbox?’ I removed it from the pouch; tipped the matches out of the box and tried it for size. Perfect!
‘Maria, I’m going to have to leave you on your own for a while, but I won’t be long. I just have to go to the ship and do up this matchbox. Don’t wander off, please. I’ll bring you a treat back.’

I dug a small hole and buried the matches. Being safety matches, they were no good without the box and I didn’t want to leave any litter behind. I clasped the walnut shell and zoomed back to my cabin.

…………………………………………..

Surrender Box

A scrap of wrapping paper, a glass pebble, some tissues, glue and paint. First I covered the matchbox with the wrapping paper, trimming it to fit. Then I glued on the glass pebble. Next I soggied-up some tissue with glue and draped it artistically around the pebble. The hairdryer came in handy for drying it all off quickly. Then I painted the tissue and finished with a touch of gold acrylic. Not bad for a hasty effort. I gave it another blast with the hairdryer; lined the inside with cotton wool; grabbed a packet of digestive biscuits and walnutted back to Maria.
‘What d’ya reckon, Maria? Will it do?’ She gave a little snuffle, which I took for a ‘yes’. ‘Right then, we’ll go and give it to Little Lord Fauntleroy and be on our way.’
I placed the Sacred Spiral in the box; gave Maria two biscuits and we made our way back to the road.

On the Road

Whoever built this road was in no particular hurry to get anywhere. It is five times longer than it would be if it went in a straight line. It’s not as if it curves to avoid features in the landscape either, it just snakes about because it can.

We had just rounded our fifth bend when I could see, off in the distance, a small wooden hut on the shoulder of the next curve. As we got closer I could see a rather scruffy youth, slouched in a wooden deckchair beside it. As we approached he roused himself and stood in the roadway.
‘Hang on a minute, Missus,’ he said. ‘You can’t go no further until you give me the box.’
‘Box?’ I’m thinking, ‘What box?’
‘And what box would that be, young man?’
‘Why, the Surrender Box.’ I gave him a puzzled stare and heaved a great sigh.
‘What, pray, is a Surrender Box?’
‘It’s the toll for the use of the Serpentine Road.’
‘I know nothing about any box. Is this some sort of scam? Are you authorised to do this?!’
‘I most certainly am, Missus. It’s my job.’
‘Do you have some sort of ID or badge to show me?’ He ducked inside the shed and came out with a laminated card bearing his name and the title Tollgate Keeper. He also had a clipboard from which he gave me a piece of paper. It said:

Persons wishing to travel the Serpentine Road
can only pass beyond this point if they have paid
the toll of a Surrender Box. Said Box must be made
by the traveller and cannot be one that has been
purchased. The Box must contain something which
the traveller is happy to surrender to the toll keeper.

All I wanted was to get to the next town, have a decent meal, a shower, sleep in a proper bed and do some washing. Now I have to start doing arts and crafts?? No tools, no materials and I wasn’t sure I’d be happy surrendering anything to this layabout.

I turned Maria around and we headed into the woods. We’d camp out again tonight and give some thought to this dilemma. I fed and watered Maria, then made a small fire and heated up a can of beans and sausages. Hardly ‘haute cuisine’ but it was hot and filling. I finished with a cup of black tea. I gathered up a big pile of leaf litter and put my sleeping bag on top. It was quite comfy.

I lay looking at the odd star that peeped through the trees and pondered my options. I could try and find things to make a surrender box, although where I didn’t know, or I could go back to the ship and get to Rainbow Beach by sea. It was all too much to think about and I fell asleep.

To the Serpentine Road?

The storm had washed the countryside clean of dust, and everything was sparkling. Raindrops glistened on trees and shrubs; a fleeting touch of diamonds in nature. It would all evaporate before long. The air, too, had that sharp, clean tang that always follows a good downpour.

As we moved lower down the escarpment the trees and bushes became taller and more dense. I decided I would like to walk for a while and give Maria a break. The earth was very springy and good to walk on. I took off my shoes and walked barefoot, connecting directly with the earth. It felt good.

We travelled like this for a couple of hours. I was hoping we were headed in the right direction as the town had disappeared from sight as we descended. The path seemed well worn, so it obviously led somewhere. We eventually came out of the trees and the path connected to a larger road, which looked as though it was busier and carried heavier traffic, although there was no-one in sight at the time. Hmmmmmm…. which way to go? Left or right? Time for a ’sit and think’. I had a drink and gave one to Maria. ‘Well, Maria, now what?’ She looked at me with those deep brown eyes. I rubbed her muzzle and my eyes fell on the saddlebag. ‘Time for a spot of magic, I think.’ I put my hand inside the leather bag and pulled out the silk one containing the tiny items. One, I remembered, was an orienteering kit, which might be of some use in this situation. I removed it from the bag. I was unsure of exactly what the kit would contain. I knew there would be a compass, but that’s not much good if you don’t know where you are. Nothing ventured, nothing gained – I blew on the tiny wallet.

It expanded to the size of a rolled-up magazine. I untied it and laid it flat. There was a compass, a folded map, a whistle, a mirror, a box of matches and a small penlight. The compass and map were to find your way; the whistle presumably so that others could find you; the mirror…………………so you could see who is lost?; matches for a fire or a smoke and a penlight so you could be lost in the dark.

I opened the map, keeping my fingers crossed that it was a map of Lenore and not Germany. I should have had faith in Enchanteur that she would provide the appropriate gear.

I could see the Abbey and Gilead on the map, and the Valley of Bones. There was even a large X and an arrow, with the words ‘You are here’ written on it. Now how did anyone know that?! To the right the road wound back up into the mountains, while to the left was marked ‘to the Serpentine Road’. Aptly named, as it meandered all over the place, but there were towns marked along the road so Maria and I decided that left would be the way to go.

Saddlebag

I upended the saddlebag and the contents slid onto the rock. An interesting collection of things. There was a compact First Aid tin, about the size of a paperback. I lifted the lid. It contained band-aids, a pressure bandage, iodine, Stop-Itch, eye drops, scissors, tweezers, one of those pick things for removing splinters and a leaflet about more serious stuff – snake and spider bites and head injuries. Not that that would be much good if you brained yourself while travelling alone.

There was a little plastic zip-loc bag containing seeds. There appeared to be three different kinds, but nothing to indicate what they were, or what to do with them. They could have been to grow something edible or something poisonous. I put them back in the saddlebag with the First Aid kit.

Next I picked up a dreamcatcher. It was the size of a small tea plate.
The web was made of sinew and the outer circle was wrapped in very fine, sueded leather. Hanging from the bottom were some beads and five feathers. There was a blue-black feather, probably from a raven; an irridescent blue one; a red one; a warm yellow one and a pure white one, similar to the one that had guided me on White Owl Island. Hmm…… black and white and the three primaries. Interesting!

Caught in the ‘web’ were pieces symbolic of the four elements. In the north position was a shiny pebble signifying Earth. In the east a tiny hummingbird wing for air. South held a burnt twig – more like charcoal really – and west a small, spiral seashell. It was very beautiful. Also attached to the web by a silk thread, but not part of it, was a talisman in the form of a spiral. The Sacred Spiral – symbol of personal power, birth and rebirth, personal vision and enlightenment. A very good sign. I placed it in the pouch with my walnut shell.

In another red silk bag were some tiny items similar to the things in the walnut shell. There was a label attached to the bag, with these instructions:

To activate these items you must blow on them.
(same as the walnut shell)
Beware! Once activated they cannot be shrunk again,
so consider your ability to carry them.

The tiny items were rock-climbing equipment, an anchor, an orienteering kit and a pair of spectacles. I wondered if these were aura glasses. Mine were currently with Ted. Blowing on the glasses was not going to greatly add to my baggage, so I did. I put them on and looked around. Not aura glasses then, because nothing with a life force was giving off a glow. Not me, or Maria or any of the vegetation. The lenses seemed to be poor quality, too. They were cloudy and it was a bit like looking through the bathroom window. There must be a special use for them though. I supposed time and situation would reveal what it was. I didn’t fiddle with the orienteering stuff, because as far as I knew, I wasn’t lost.

I carefully gathered up the items and returned them to the saddlebag. My wet things were almost dry, so I packed those too. They were just damp enough to stink like a stale dishcloth when I unpacked them again, but I didn’t care, I was hoping to find an inn along the way where I could do some washing.

I opened my packet of digestive biscuits and shared them with Maria. She’s quite fond of biscuits. We both had a drink and then walked up the trail to the top of the gorge. I climbed aboard and we sauntered along the rim.

At the far end we could see forever! The patchwork landscape was spread out before us and a little pocket of civilization was sending tendrils of smoke heavenward. We set off in that direction.