[2003] LOSS & PORPHYRY the novels  

9032 - LOSS Chapter 5 - MIDWINTER

Midwinter was rapidly approaching. The sharp frosts had come early this year, and the villagers confined themselves more and more to their huts. Accordingly, I was teaching the coven in the fire hut when Rog burst in. The smith was almost unable to speak: "It's gone! It's gone! How could it have gone? Where could it have gone to? How could it have gone?" He was so distraught, and making so little sense, that I had to bodily force him to sit down on a stool by the fire; and even then I had considerable difficulty calming him enough to be coherent.

Eventually I did manage to quieten him, and some semblance of sense started to emerge: "Our stocks of copper and tin have disappeared. They are simply not there. I don't know where they can be." He was still distressed; which was understandable for, if his garbled story was to believed, a great deal of our wealth had been spirited away. Sending some of the coven to fetch the members of the council, I rushed with Rog to where the metal was stored. By tradition it was kept in disused grain pits. These had mock clay caps, just like the real ones; so that passers-by would not recognise what was hidden there. Of course everyone in our own community knew exactly where it was hidden, but the one fear was that one of the many traders, some of whom we did not wholly trust, might discover where the wealth was concealed. Perhaps that was just what had happened.

Rog took me straight to the pit he was currently using. At a first glance the rough bars of copper and tin seemed to fill the pit almost to the brim. For a while I couldn't understand what had been the cause of Rog's alarm. I began to think he had taken leave of his senses, after all any theft was a very rare event and I could see that the pit was still almost full with the great wealth I knew the community possessed. Then Rog bent down and lifted some of these bars. Underneath them, I could now see, they rested on logs of wood. My heart sank, as must have Rog's when he first made the discovery; and I too now got down on my knees and scrabbled amongst the other bars, to discover that they too rested on worthless wood.

We immediately moved on to the nearby pits. Some of them I knew would be empty, but some of them should be full. As Rog uncapped them I saw that these did indeed appear full; but then so had the other. Rog and I dug furiously into these, pulling out mounds of metal. To our immense relief, these other pits had not been raided in the same way. It was still a great loss; perhaps a quarter of the total reserves had gone. But it was no longer quite the same level of disaster as it had at first appeared. We still had three-quarters of their treasure; and that was still more than any other village in the valley.

But a quarter, nearly a whole grain pit of copper and tin, had gone. It had clearly been taken; for the clever placing of the logs to hide its disappearance showed the premeditation behind the theft. But who could have taken it? It had been a well planned theft. The pit chosen was furthest from the smithy, and would seem to an outsider the one that would be last to be opened. They were not to know that Rog rigorously rotated his stocks. If it had not been for that small mistake the theft might have gone unnoticed for many months. Perhaps in that time even more might have been stolen. But that still did not answer the question of who had taken it.

By this time we were surrounded by most of the council, and behind them what seemed like most of the village as well; Rog excitedly repeating the facts for each new group of spectators as they joined the crowd. Eventually the whole group of spectators seemed to erupt into a noisy babble. Realising that they were not going to make any sense in this chaotic environment, I, with some difficulty, persuaded the council members to return to the fire hut; leaving the storage pits to be inspected by the curious onlookers.

Even when we were all in the hut, chaos still reigned supreme; with everyone talking at once, and nobody listening. I ruefully conceded that possibly Jon was right about their lack of organisation. It was only by yelling at the top of my voice that I was finally able to restore order. I felt that, in the process, I was further confirming Jon's thesis that order could only be imposed by violence; even if, as here, it was just the violence of my voice.

I had to work hard to maintain control, for anarchy was constantly bubbling under the surface, but I tried my hardest to clarify the situation so that we could regain a consensus: "It is clear that the material has gone. It is also clear that it has been stolen; taken by a clever thief, who knows at least something about our community. We can stand here all day bemoaning the fact, but what we really need to do is to decide what actions we need to take."

As soon as I stopped talking Isac continued; at as urgent a pace. He was an ally in trying to restore order as soon as possible: "We can afford the loss. Indeed we can almost easily afford it. As far as I can see it is less than a quarter of our stock, and we had considerably more reserves than we needed; in fact we still do. So the theft is not a real tragedy. As I see it we do not need to take any measures to cope with the material loss. The importance lies in the theft; in the act itself. What is the implication of someone wanting to steal our wealth, and of actually being able to steal it? What are the implications of that? So let's not discuss how terrible a loss it is. It isn't! Instead let's concentrate on finding out how it happened. Has anyone any ideas what took place? Has anyone seen anything suspicious, anyone suspicious?"

Once again the group relapsed into an uncontrolled rabble; talking noisily to their neighbours or just aiming their loud comments at the world in general. And once again I found that I had to yell to restore order. This time there was silence for a few moments, and in this pause there was no individual who was brave enough to publicly try and answer Isac's questions.

At last it was Din who spoke up: "I do not think any of the traders, or of their helpers, have ever visited that part of the village. It is well off the beaten track, and their presence there would stick out like a sore thumb. I am certain someone would have seen them if they had strayed into that area; and would have mentioned such strange behaviour to me. They have always remained in or around the visitors' hut. That is where we haggle with them, and that is where they stay overnight if needs be. As for their pack trains, these are always tethered by the main entrance and their attendants always camp there; that is if they choose not to accept the hospitality of the visitors' hut. All the traders are very careful not to breach our hospitality; so I cannot see that they would have the opportunity to explore as far as the part that has been raided. In truth, has anyone ever seen a trader even near that area?"

Around the hut I could see heads being shaken in unison. But he had detected a defensive element in Din's contribution. As the main negotiator with the traders, Din felt responsible for their behaviour; and was worried that it might be one of his contacts who had destroyed their peace. Even so, I knew that what he said had the ring of common-sense, of truth. Indeed, the whole village knew that the traders did behave in a very predictable way. They had only one object; and that was to make the best bargains in both their buying and selling. So they invariably made straight for the visitors' hut, to lay out their wares. If, after all the strenuous haggling, they still had the energy they would carouse through the evening with their customers; but still in the visitors' hut.

It was my impression that they were never off duty while they were in the village, always selling their wares to their customers; even if it was only in terms of the scurrilous stories they brought with them. It was only if you discretely observed them after they had left the village that you saw their mask of boisterous high spirits drop, to be replaced by a peculiarly vacant expression, almost as if they had fallen asleep on their feet; and had retreated deep inside themselves to build up the store of energy that would be needed to meet the challenge of the next village on their route.

Din was surely right. I had never seen a trader wander anywhere off the beaten track; they were too worried, in their ultimate insecurity, of offending their customers by breaching even a minor rule of etiquette. I had seen traders curse volubly at their attendants when they thought they might have been in danger of breaching some minor taboo of their hosts. I too was sure that, despite the loud bravado of their tales, none of their visitors would have ventured off that straight and narrow path.

Again it was Isac who continued the investigation: "Well then, can you think of any others who might know the location of our metal stores?"

Once more silence ruled, accompanied only by the general shaking of heads. This time, after some obvious deliberation, it was Doal who spoke up: "Those pits have been in use ever since I can remember. In that time many visitors have passed through the village; though, like Din, I have never observed any of them in that area. But there have also been a number of people who have left the village, mainly our women who were to marry into other communities."

Jon, who had been uncharacteristically silent until that point, was quick to seize on this: "So it might be people from another village who have learnt about it, from those who have left this community behind? What do you know of these other villages?"

It was my turn to intervene: "I am sure that they would not steal. They have never taken our cattle, which would be much easier to take; and just as valuable. And I am sure that those who have left would protect the secret just as we do."

But, as usual, Jon was persistent: "Can you be certain it was not one of them? Do you know all the individuals in those villages so well? After all, they had the greatest opportunity. Any traders making a special trip to take the metal must surely be observed by someone. But people from a neighbouring village could easily steal across in a single night, unobserved by anyone, to take the metal."

I painstakingly reiterated: "There is no proof. I believe it is highly unlikely. We have always got on very well with all these communities. Why would they risk losing our friendship in this way?"

It had once more become a dialogue between myself and Jon, which the latter happily continued, almost seeming to cast me in the role of thief: "But equally there is no proof that they didn't. And, I repeat, they alone had the opportunity. Only they would have been able to carry out the theft in the secrecy that obviously applied. Why should a trader, who would be long gone before we discovered the theft the following morning, waste time and risk discovery by so carefully covering his tracks? What was their motive? I do not know, but after all it was great wealth; and they are not as wealthy as we. And such breeds envy. Or perhaps it was more sinister. Perhaps they have heard, from the same source that told them of the hiding place of our wealth, how we have developed bronze knives. Perhaps they want to produce their own knives; for who knows what purpose!"

I tried a last time to silence this line of argument: "But, I also repeat, there is not a shred of evidence."

Still, Jon would not give up his line of reasoning: "Then let's find the evidence. Perhaps they have left something on their way to and from our village, something that will tell us what they did. It is a test worthy of our hunters. Let them find the trail that leads to the culprits."

Once more the youth had carried the argument. How could I reasonably deny the hunters the opportunity to make a search. If they found nothing then Jon's ideas would be undermined. If they found something, then the young man might have his proof. So I was forced to acquiesce.

                                                                        ****

The hunters took up their task immediately, with an enthusiasm that indicated that they found it the best of sport; offering a totally new form of game. And I saw another of my visions fulfilled.

In its initial stages, it was work for the permanent hunters alone. The rest of the community was confined to the village, for fear they would trample over vital evidence in their enthusiasm. But, from the edge of the village, I watched the hunters methodically searching along the fringes of the woods.

It was the middle of the next day before any evidence was found. As the circle of the search gradually increased, one of the hunters finally came across an ingot of copper dropped, presumably in haste, actually on the path that led to the nearest neighbour; the village of Shima. As it happened, despite several days more search and the eventual involvement of most of the village, that was the only evidence ever found.

Even so, it seemed almost conclusive enough. There was no other way it could have arrived there. Only the thief hurrying along that track could have dropped it.

                                                                        ****

It was Jon who, cock-a-hoop at the proof of his theory, called the council meeting that same evening. He was so confident that he was almost strutting, backwards and forwards like an aroused cock, rather than standing before what he saw as his audience: "We have found the thieves. So what do we do now?"

Feeling that I needed to inject some calm into this potentially explosive atmosphere, I ventured my own contribution: "There is, as yet, no definite proof. It might just as easily been a trader running in that direction. And even if it was someone from that village we do not know who, and the rest of the village might be unaware of it. How do we find the culprit? If it were, for example, a member of our own village would we know? In any case, the leaders of that village would surely want to deal with it themselves if they did know. Let me visit them, and talk with them. We don't want to make a dreadful mistake, by accusing them outright of a conspiracy."

"That is very sensible. There is no point in coming to blows until we know exactly where we stand. Such a visit should go ahead. It is a good idea." Much to my surprise, Jon was supportive. I was having considerable difficulty reading what the youth's strategy was. Maybe he had none, and was just reacting to each situation as he came to it. But, I gratefully conceded, my opponent did at least support my own plan.

While I mulled over these thoughts, the young man continued: "But we should lay plans for the future security of the village. We cannot know when such criminals might strike again; maybe to commit an even greater crime. As you know we have now removed the rest of the metal to the larder pits in our youths' hut, where there is always a guard on duty; and, of course, all of us youths sleep there at night. It would be difficult indeed for any thief to steal it now. But we have other riches. We have our stores of grain. We have our cattle. We have our carvings and stocks of pottery. There is truly a wealth of possessions lying around everywhere in the village; and we can't keep all of that in the youths' hut."

Pausing for effect, for he recognised that this was rapidly becoming a major theatrical performance, he offered his solution: "We can, though, fence off the village more effectively. We already have banks around it, topped by wattle fences. But these are far too easy for any determined intruder to climb over. In any case, we only pull flimsy wattle hurdles across the various entrances; which barely suffice to keep the larger animals out. We need something much more substantial." Again the long pause for effect: "And we have the resource for that already to hand. From the clearance of the oak forest we have the many logs that will be ideal to create a proper timber wall, to replace the wattle fences. It will be a simple, if time-consuming, matter to embed these logs in the existing banks; to produce a wall that would be too tall for any man to climb over. And we could use some of the logs to make proper gates; stouter and larger versions of the ones we already have at the entrances to our huts. It would, to be sure, take some effort, but the material is there ready; and we have the manpower also to hand. Winter is a time of enforced idleness. Can we not take advantage of that to give us some security for the future? So that nobody, from whatever source and with whatever motives, can steal the possessions we have worked so hard to obtain!"

It was a seductive concept. Too late, I could see that yet another of my visions would be coming true. There would be little point now in raising any opposition. It was pre-ordained. In any case it seemed an inoffensive proposition. It would also better help keep out the animals that sometimes raided the food stores. I could see that a number of the councillors actually relished the task. Not all of the villagers fully appreciated the quiet pursuits of winter. A few, in addition to the hunters who lived for the open air sport of the winter, hankered after some more physical activity; to break up the dark days when there was no work on the land.

But, underneath the reason, I thought I detected a shadow which I had not seen in his vision. Then I had seen only men replacing the wattle with logs. Now, though, I started to look at it from a different perspective. I remembered Trina's epic description of that first loathsome town she was taken to; with its towering walls of wood. Were we in danger of creating something similar? But surely not. It was not the inanimate walls of that town which were so offensive; it was the corrupt society they encircled.

Indeed, to my great relief, Jon had not talked at all in warlike tones. He had not even mentioned his idea of making large knives as weapons; nor had he asked to train warriors. I had half expected he would. It would have been the ideal opportunity. Instead he had merely produced this inoffensive solution. It would take a great deal of communal effort, but surely would do no harm.

Thus, with almost no discussion, were these recommendations approved. I would visit Shima, and Jon would get his wooden wall. This time the youth had chosen his time and argument well. He was rapidly learning how the council worked, and how to get his way.

                                                                        ****

Early next morning I set out for Shima, accompanied by my faithful companion Trina. Although Jon was now nominally my apprentice, the reality was that the youth had little time for such things; and in his absence Trina had appointed herself to the position. If I were to be truthful I welcomed her attention. She was the most rewarding pupil I had ever taught. Today she would be a very welcome companion on the long trek to Shima.

Well wrapped up in our thickest cloaks, and with well stocked back-packs to provide against emergencies, we strode along the trail in good spirits; despite the sombre nature of our mission. Soon we were deep in the forest that surrounded the village. Only the narrow track we followed hinted that there was civilisation not too far away. Each of us carried a stout pole, in case we encountered wolves. But these predators always kept well away from humans, having learnt that the latter were even more dangerous than themselves. In the event the sticks were mainly used to help us haul ourselves up the many steep hills.

Around us the winter life of the woods ran its course, undisturbed by the intrusion of man. As we made our way along the path, I pointed it out to Trina; a vixen hunting for voles, an owl motionless on the branch of a dead tree but with one unblinking eye still firmly fixed on the intruders.

The trail was not too difficult. There were steep stretches, but even here the feet of previous travellers had created a track. There were a few streams to cross; but here trees had been felled to provide a dry, if somewhat precarious, path. All in all, it was a pleasure to walk along it. But, clearly, it was impassable for even the smallest carts. That was one reason why Shima had as yet obtained a smaller share of the general wealth than our own village had.

It was shortly after midday when we reached the brow of the hill overlooking Shima. It was a village very much like their own. Indeed, some time in dim history it had been settled as one of the first offshoots of our own community.

As we strode down the hill to the village below, we were greeted by a flurry of barking dogs, closely followed by a small horde of yelling children. Strangers were always well received in any village. But in the more remote communities, such as this, they were doubly welcome. They provided good entertainment; a wealth of new stories about the outside world.

                                                                        ****

We soon found themselves in the visitors' hut, being entertained by my counterpart and his apprentice. It was more than a year since I had last visited my fellow shaman, but the latter still only had a six strong coven. He was clearly envious of my own full coven. But, I ruefully reflected, he did have a fully trained, and clearly attentive, apprentice; and I silently wished, yet again, that Jon would take his role more seriously.

This time the pleasantries, the exchange of news about our respective communities, was kept brief. I needed to proceed to the real subject of our mission. At the earliest excuse, therefore, I recited the tale of our recent theft; though I tactfully glossed over the council's suspicions, which I judged would be a trifle discourteous at that juncture. Instead I enquired if there had been any traders, suspicious or not, in the area recently. My counterpart's reply, that the most recent trader had left some three weeks before, seemed to preclude that possibility.

I had, therefore, to discretely ask if the other shaman thought anyone in his village might know something which would help them solve the mystery. Had anyone been working near our own village at that time? As far as the  other shaman was concerned the answer was an unequivocal no; and I had to believe that someone in that village should have known, and told their leader of the events, if any of its members had been involved. Even so I pushed on. What about the two girls who had joined them from our own village in the last two years? Again the answer did not throw light on the problem; both the girls had settled down well, and had become model members of their new community.

The shaman of Shima had not obtained his position without having some innate wit, and he soon realised the thrust of my questioning. I was embarrassed, but my counterpart was not; " It is a rational enquiry; do we not look for a lost cow amongst the herds of our neighbours?"

Thus it was that he called together his full council, and I repeated the questions to them. Again there was no positive response. They were sympathetic to our loss; though I did detect as slight twinge of pleasure at my discomfort - but that clearly came from envy and not from any involvement in the crime itself. All of them were innocent of any culpability. Their spirit was clear, without a trace of guilt amongst them. And, equally, they had no awareness of any others who might be guilty. They knew that, in a village of this size where everybody knew everyone else's movements so intimately that it was virtually impossible to visit a lover undetected, it would have been remarkably difficult for even one person to undertake the theft; and it would surely have taken a team of men to carry that much metal back from our village. The mystery remained unsolved.

                                                                        ****

We spent an enjoyable evening being entertained by the villagers. It was a rule that strangers were always entertained well; after all, you might some day crave such hospitality yourself, and how otherwise could travellers pass along the highways. We ourselves had dined well, and the storytelling went on late into the night.

It was with less than clear heads, therefore, that we set out on the road the following morning. Our disposition was not helped by the pervading drizzle which had replaced the clear blue skies of the previous day. The journey back was, thus, significantly less pleasant.

Approaching our own village we could hear the sound of much activity. As we cleared the fringe of the forest, we saw gangs of villagers hard at work on the new wall. I supposed that the opportunity offered by the thaw in the weather had been too good to miss. Even so, it seemed to me that there was a degree of undue haste.

It was not a complex activity. But it was an arduous one. First, a trench, nearly as deep as a man, was dug. Then into that was put the foot of a tree trunk that was nearly three men high. Alongside it was put another, and then another until the line stretched into the distance. Finally the trench was back-filled, leaving a wall of timber more than twice the height of a man. It was clear, to the villagers working so hard on the project, that no human being would be able to scale that wall. Jon was right; it would be impregnable.

Having sent Trina back to join the coven, and having delivered my own inconclusive report to the council, I too joined in the back-breaking work. I still had serious doubts about the project; but in this consensual democracy I always supported the decisions of the majority.

                                                                        ****

By midwinter itself the inner ring of the wall was almost complete. We had been fortunate that the mild weather had continued, and we had been able to work on it every day from dawn to dusk. It still hadn't been decided what was to be done with the outer wall, that which guarded the cattle pens, but it could wait until later. It was not strictly essential; and it was not yet clear if there would be sufficient timber, for the clearance of the oak forest had been stopped to release the labour for the work on the walls. In the meantime we struggled on, every day building new stretches of the wall.

I had become proficient at digging trenches, developing a whole new set of muscles; but my own winter tasks, particularly those of teaching, had suffered. I could now only take my classes in the evening. Even then the youths, who were working as hard as myself on the wall, tended to fall asleep while I talked; as weariness conquered their bodies. They were not slaves, for they contributed their efforts very willingly; but I now better understood what Trina had meant by the tiredness of slavery.

All work stopped, however, for the midwinter ceremony. As it happened, the frosts had returned the previous day and it was impossible to dig the trenches. But, in any case, nothing was more important to us than our regular communion with the spirit.

The ceremony was very much like that of midsummer; save that I once more took my mushroom fragment only when they reached the sacred circle. For the first time Jon would be assisting me; and he, too, would take the sacred mushroom, as the shaman's apprentice. So, with the stars shining brilliantly overhead, the torchlit procession wound its silent way up to the circle. In the bitter cold everyone was well wrapped in their heavy cloaks; muffling even the remaining sounds. Arriving at the circle we quickly took up our accustomed positions; and, as the sky over the distant hills lightened, Jon and I swallowed the slices of mushroom. With the first rays of the sun cresting those distant hills, I prostrated myself and prepared to begin my song.

But it never came. I could feel the mushroom taking effect as usual, but this time the spirit did not enter me. Indeed all traces of it disappeared, blanketed by the strangest of sensations.

I found myself subjected to a terrible noise, worse than the noise of a dozen waterfalls. And all I could see was a golden disk hovering in front of my eyes. It might have been the globe of the spirit, or the sun, but it was lifeless; it held no energy. It was just a yellow disk; ornamented with strange markings. It was an impossibility. The spirit had to be there. It always had been before; and at the festivals it had always been there in great abundance. Yet now there was no trace of it. All that remained was the overwhelming roar, and that lifeless yellow disk hovering at some indeterminate distance in front of me. I realised, with growing dismay, that I could say nothing, there was nothing to say; no song. In any case, I discovered that I could not even speak; my throat was paralysed.

Bound in that state, as in a dream, as in a nightmare, I heard  Jon's voice alongside me; booming out a message that was alien to everything I believed in.

"The sun god is risen. Your spirit now gives way to its master, for the sun god is the greatest of all. Nothing can resist him. Your spirit bows down before him. The sun god has arrived to take his place in your lives. Obedience is demanded. Your spirit too demands that you obey the sun god. He is a merciful god; but he is an all powerful god, who will not tolerate disobedience. You will love him. You must love him. You must worship him. Your very future depends on it. Worship!"

As quickly as it had come, the disk disappeared; as did the deafening noise. And I found that, at last, I could speak. But what could I now say. I raised myself from my prostrate position to be met by a sea of worried faces.

I felt impelled to say something, so with my throat still partly frozen I barely croaked: "The spirit was not there. All that appeared was a golden disk that meant nothing."

But Jon was happy to volubly fill the gap: "The disk was the sun god. He came to me, and to you; as he used to come to my father the king, who was our high priest. He displaced your spirit. He was more powerful than your spirit. He is now your god. You must worship him. Worship him and you will be rewarded. Ignore him at you peril. Oppose him and you will be destroyed."

This outburst met with wild cheering from the youths; and I noted that some of the hunters were also applauding. But on most faces there was still the blank incomprehension of shock. It was too much for them to take in. The spirit had been with the community since the time of the sagas; and a people does not throw away its heritage in a few moments, no matter how shocking those moments might be. But already a number of them were beginning to show signs of real distress.

I could not help. I was myself in a state of shock; and the numbing side effects of the sacred mushroom still held me in their grip. I was finding it impossible to get my thoughts together. I could only shake my head in confusion, and despair. I was failing them when they needed me most.

Somehow or other the procession down to the village got under way. But it was not the usual joyous procession; apart from the outbursts of noisy cheering from Jon's supporters amongst the youths. For the rest it was almost like a wake, a celebration of the end of the world as they had known it. The spirit had never failed to materialise before; and now it had disappeared totally from our lives. It was a disaster.

All I could feel was an emptiness, and a growing noise much like that which had swamped me at the ceremony. It was, though, not as loud; only the persistent swish of a rivulet, but it still drowned out any trace of the spirit. I was truly alone, as I had been in the depths of his despair after the trip to the clay-pit. The shadows surely would soon arrive.

Returned to the fire hut, the virgins and hearth mothers desperately pestered me for an explanation. Janil and Lal, in particular, were terribly distraught at what had happened. But I could give them no explanation, other than to truthfully describe what had taken place. I did not understand it. It made no sense. The sun god was a myth. The gold disk was clearly lifeless, where the spirit had been the epitome of a life-giving force. But somehow that lifeless god had blocked out the spirit. Could something that didn't exist overpower something as all powerful as the spirit? But it had, and I had no answer to the riddle. I didn't even know the questions to ask. I was lost. And in the wilderness with me was my people. All I could think, all I could be certain of, was that I had failed them. Once more, put to a simple test I had failed. But, this time, my failure would surely have vast ramifications. Where was our future without the spirit?

Around me, through the omnipresent noise of that trickling rivulet, I could sense others - perhaps the whole community - asking the same desperate questions. I could sense, even though I could no longer do so with my previous certainty, that there was almost a vacuum developing; my people were losing their way. They, as I, had depended on the spirit to guide their every action. Without it they were lost.

                                                                        *****

Throughout the whole of that day the vacuum persisted. It was disorienting for the whole community. I received group after group of villagers, all of whom pleaded for an answer. And to each of them I could offer nothing but the description of what had actually taken place. I could offer no explanation. I  could offer no help. I could offer no hope. So they went away dissatisfied, and still desperately worried about the vacuum in their lives.

By that evening it became apparent to me that the vacuum was being, at least partially, filled. There was no feast, for most of the community could not bear to celebrate the spiritual disaster which had just overwhelmed them. Only the youths indulged in their normal revelry. But there was, I could sense, a gathering of sorts under way. Still almost in a dream, as if the effects of the mushroom had not worn off, I followed groups of villagers making their way towards the visitors' hut. There I managed to squeeze in at the back of a tightly packed crowd; squeezing myself into the darkness, so that nobody should see me.

At the centre of the group, brilliantly lit by banks of oil lamps, was Jon. He was as confident as he had ever been; as confident as I was now confused. He was preaching to his new congregation; describing the religion of the sun god as he had experienced it. He had been trained to be a high priest in that religion, and now he was exploiting that training to the full. In the vacuum left by the departure of the spirit, he was offering comfort, the only comfort available, to his new people. He alone could offer them a confident, sure, future. Only he could now claim to be able to save them.

"The sun god is not that strange. He is not different to your spirit, for that spirit is just one part of the god. You have been concentrating on a partial view of the sun god. Now you are privileged to know the whole god. No longer do you have to fool yourselves with partial truths. Now all is known. The sun god is all powerful. He is, as you have seen, more powerful than the spirit; which is just part of his nature. Today he has vanquished the spirit, just to show you his own might. He is all powerful, and rules all. Before you were in ignorance of that. Now you are aware, and you can bask in that radiant power. You yourselves can absorb that power and take strength from it. But you can only do that on his terms. You must accept the sun god as your only god. You must forsake all others. You must even forsake the spirit. For, although it may form a part of the sun god, it is not the same as the sun god; and worship of it is alien to his religion. You must accept the sun god. You must worship him. But only worship and you will be saved. The sun god promises you a sure future. Can anyone else, anything else - even the spirit - now promise that. But the power of the sun god will protect you. It will give you a secure future. All you have to do is accept it."

Once again it was a brilliant performance. I could almost believe in it myself. Jon, highlighted by the lamps, towered over his congregation. He radiated power and confidence. He confidently knew that few could resist his appeal. As I looked around me realised that few indeed could. In their despair, hungering to fill the vacuum they felt, they were listening. And they were accepting.

I eventually managed to slip out of the back of the hut, and despairingly slunk back through the deserted village to my deserted fire hut; like a whipped dog retiring to its corner. I was too confused, too lost, to even hide myself in black despair. But I knew the shadows were coming very close. Born of desperation perhaps, I was starting to develop a passion for fatalism. There really was nothing I could do; so the heavy load of responsibility was lifting from my shoulders.

                                                                        ****

Entering the fire hut, to my surprise I found Trina there. I had expected it to be as deserted as the rest of the village. But she was standing in the centre of it, close to the glowing embers of the fire. She was alone. As I moved towards her, I could see that she was standing unnaturally still, not moving a muscle; as if in a trance. Only her eyes followed me, unblinking; and I found myself becoming almost hypnotised by them - unable to drag my own gaze away from hers. Her eyes, normally deep brown pools of intelligence, were tonight different in some mysterious way. I tried to persuade myself that, in the dim lamplight, I couldn't possibly see into them. It was, though, a pretence. I knew, across the width of the hut, that tonight they were deeper and more intense than ever; and in some peculiar way I was being drawn deep into them.

Forced to concentrate on those intense eyes, I suddenly remembered where I had seen them before. I remembered that first time when, startled, they had looked straight out at me from the vacuum that had disrupted my midsummer ceremony. Then again, at the equinox where, seen as out of the corner of my eye, they had watched my attempts at prescience with something close to amusement. Those deep brown eyes were now in front of me; without doubt they were Trina's.

Having seen that recognition flicker across my face, Trina visibly relaxed. Her body remained motionless, but the intensity it had held disappeared. Up to that moment she had needed to concentrate all her powers to produce that startling effect.

Yet, I wondered, what was that effect? I found himself becoming even more confused. Was Trina now going to prove as perplexing as Jon? From what accursed place had they both sprung. Surely it was not of this world?

To my further astonishment, this unspoken question was answered immediately: "No. I am not accursed. I do not come from beyond this world. As you must know, I am very much flesh and blood like you. And, yes you are right, I am reading your thoughts. But that should come as no surprise. Do you not experience something akin to that when your community shares consciousness, through the spirit? What I am now doing is only the same, at a rather higher level. It is only a matter of degree."

To be honest, at the end of such a day little should have surprised me. I had already seen my whole life turned upside down. But, even so, Trina's revelations did startle me. It was not her claim to possess telepathy. That was self-evidently the case. And, anyway, she was right in claiming that a crude version of that skill was the basis for the shared consciousness which held the community together. The shock came, instead, from the great authority that she displayed. Jon had been confident, but that was as nothing to the very essence of pure authority that Trina now embodied. She did not need to tower over me as had Jon, for her presence filled the whole hut.

Perversely, I gained the impression, from this slim bodied girl, of a large sleek black cat; with all the suppressed energy that such animals have as they are about to pounce. But, despite this image, I did not feel at all threatened. Perhaps the day had already pushed me beyond that limit. In any case, as she clearly could read my thoughts, I reasoned that there was no point in talking. All day I had found talking very difficult; and there had been little sense even then in what I had managed to mouth. I was now grateful that for once I would not be obliged to say anything. So I left it to her. Let her read my mind then! There was apparently nothing I could do to stop this mental rape, so I decided I might as well lie back and enjoy it!

In fact I could not say whether I spoke, or Trina spoke, thereafter. The exchanges I thought I heard might as easily have taken place totally in our minds as through our mouths. Trina was quite capable of accomplishing that. Certainly, the crystal clear images that accompanied, almost illustrated, some of these exchanges could only have been in my mind. What I did remember, with great clarity, was the nature of those exchanges; and the at times almost blinding intensity with which they took place. And, all the while, I too now hung motionless; duplicating Trina's strange posture.

The exchanges, verbal or not, had become purely of the mind. Our bodies were irrelevant appendages. There was no point in utilising them; no need to waste effort energising them. Body language meant nothing when we were in contact mind to mind.

"How did you come by these strange powers?" The thought was not exactly original. Indeed it was possibly pedantic in the extreme; given the circumstances. But I felt I must know exactly what I was now dealing with; where I had understood little else that perplexing day.

Trina agreed with the importance of the question: "As you will have gathered, I was a precocious child. Even as a slave I knew I was unusually perceptive, as did my wise man. Indeed I knew I was far wiser than anyone else I had met; until I met you. I learnt, and understood, at many times the rate of others. At times I also seemed to be able to anticipate what my teachers would say. But I put all of this down to my raw intelligence. To be honest, it would never have occurred to me that there was any element of telepathy involved in this; and perhaps there never was. In that confused society I could not even experience the shared consciousness that is normal here. I certainly had no knowledge of the future, as you have; though in my restricted life as a slave it might have been difficult to detect any future at all."

"It was only last midsummer, just half a year ago, that I developed the full powers you are now experiencing. I have deliberately not talked of it before. I only once let my powers slip out of control, and that was when you first persuaded me to describe the terrible scenes of my parent's death. But, fortunately, you took that experience as a heightening of your powers; not of mine. I did not want to discuss it, because it shocked and confused me; almost as much as those horrors of my childhood. I did not know what this strange affliction was. I was afraid that even you, despite your caring for me, would treat me as a freak if you knew. For a while I certainly saw myself as just such a freak."

These parts of the exchange might as easily have formed part of a normal, verbal, conversation. There were no images to suggest that it was anything other than that.

"You will also remember that I had been travelling with my mistress when our caravan was captured by troops from Jon's kingdom. You had detected that my story was fragmentary at that point. You chose, out of consideration, not to pursue the matter You did not know, of course, that my strange abilities meant I was fully aware of that decision. But let me make amends for my deception by now telling you the full story."

" My mistress was, of course, held for ransom. No doubt she is by now safely returned to her lord; who will be somewhat the poorer. But he will soon recoup that by extra taxes and otherwise he and my mistress will have found it only an unfortunate inconvenience. On the other hand I was a mere slave, of no value. As a result I was unceremoniously cast into a pit to await my inconsequential fate. So there I sat, on that pit's filthy floor, contemplating my fate. As a slave you soon learn to be a fatalist. There is no point in worrying about the future; it does not belong to you. Too many slaves found out, most brutally, that their future was to be very limited indeed. I had now been assigned to that group; and I accepted my fate. I knew, from previous experience, that captured house-slaves had a very short time to live. Their only value was as a subject for their captor's more sadistic pleasures."

It was during this part of her story that images began to filter through to me; so that her words eventually became almost redundant. The pit seemed to be inside a hut, for only a little light was filtering down through the rough grille that barred the top of it.

But such visual images were not all I received. I also found myself experiencing Trina's feelings. Amazingly, I found that, despite all that was happening to her, she was quite calm; there was even a feeling of tranquillity, an acceptance of the inevitable.

"I sat there for several days; unfed, and given only the occasional bowl of dirty water to drink. I spent the time arranging my life; putting in perspective all that had happened to me. In some respects that was a comforting survey. I discovered I really had nothing to lose by my death. There was little reason for my existence. At the same time I carefully worked myself towards a state of trance, to protect myself from the pain which I knew would inevitably come. I had been taught that technique by the other slaves; and it had already helped me through a number of whippings. All in all I was in surprisingly good shape; well prepared to meet my end."

The same images still filtered across to me, but the emotions were, if it were possible, even more tranquil.

"What I was not prepared for, since I had no appreciation of my powers, was the terrifying blood-lust of the guard. Just as dawn was rising, on that fateful midsummer day, he came to fetch me. I found, with a terrible shock which destroyed all my careful preparations, that his thoughts; which were so intently projected at me, were communicated to me as easily as if they had been my own. I discovered my fate was not to be a pleasant one. It was my honour to become one of the midsummer sacrifices; a fate I had expected. But, as a virgin still, I now realised that I was to be the star attraction of that gruesome event. Running through the catalogue of obscene events that awaited me, and which the guard found so stimulating that he positively radiated his anticipation of them, I calculated that I probably would last no more than twenty of them. I was likely to be the living prize of no more than twenty of their warriors; when I allowed for the inhuman savagery of the rapes and tortures they gleefully planned. My dead body would though, I discovered, not go to waste; for it would continue to satisfy a number of lesser warriors."

As might be expected, at this stage the visual images, that were invading my mind, sharpened up considerably; and the imagery took over completely from the words. At the top of the pit a distorted face, attached to a disgustingly bloated body, leered down at her - at me; the images were clear, but they were also very definitely subjective.

But, above all, I found that the feelings, the emotions, had now started to develop a mind-twisting complexity of their own. On the one hand I had to cope with Trina's stomach-turning revulsion at the obscenity which confronted her. On the other, and even more disgusting, was the guard's own vile cesspit of a mind. I could never have imagined that a human being could think such bestial thoughts.

Like Trina, I shared the catalogue of obscene horrors that was planned for her. For that fleeting, thankfully brief, moment I shared that guard's mind; looking down with his corrupt eyes on the beautiful young girl held in the pit below. I also shared, as did Trina, the hideously obscene thoughts and visceral emotions that the sight of her virginal body raised inside that savage. I felt the grotesque anticipation of the time about to come when I, now the guard, would have my turn with that young body. I thought how good it would feel to despoil it; to bury my own member between her bleeding thighs.

I might possibly have been able to cope with the sexual pleasures that the guard fantasised; even though they were so obscenely imagined, and were so clearly only a foretaste of the actual events to come. I could not, however, handle the violent ecstasy that the guard derived from the anticipated pain he would be inflicting on the girl. His climactic gratification was not to be purely  sexual, but was above all to be his share in the destruction, in a sea of screaming pain, of that innocent young body. His planned orgasm was to be primarily fuelled by her raw pain.

Just sharing a part of these thoughts made me feel physically sick, and itchingly dirty. My skin began to crawl as if it too had been contaminated by that guard's filthy touch. I felt desperately ashamed of the whole of humanity; that it could produce such terrible beings.

"I found, to my horror, that this savagery was inexorably overwhelming my carefully laid defences; and I started to scream at the sheer horror of it. This only increased the pleasure and blood-lust of the guard. I could even sense his added pleasure that I was going to provide particularly good sport. But, overtaking my panic and horror, I was being consumed by feelings of revulsion for the loathsome beast facing me. Out of my trance, I had been thrown into an uncontrollable state of terror; and the combination, of that unexpected lack of control and that pure revulsion, had released reserves of energy I didn't know I had. In my infinite loathing, I also had a target for that energy. With a degree of hate I had never before experienced, and which I hope I never again encounter, I converted that energy into some form of raw mental power. As far I can remember, I simply hurled that almost pure energy at him; as the only missile I had at my command - to destroy that blood-lusting mind."

"In that moment I succeeded. On one level of consciousness I was aware of the guard putting his hands to his head and screaming louder than anyone I have ever heard; before collapsing, possibly dead - but I didn't care. On another level I found myself separating from the world as I knew it, slipping through its fabric to some other place where nothing was familiar. In part I think this was the world you visit when you take the sacred mushroom. But my visit was much more extensive than those you have described. It must have lasted a mere brief moment. But in that time I was inundated with a flood of sensations. I saw things past, things yet to be. I saw things that I already knew; but in ways I did not know. I saw what made them, the small pieces that make up the whole world. And, as you know, for you joined me at that moment, I felt the cold vacuum of nothingness that lies beyond. All of this was thrust into my mind, giving me a far deeper education, in that moment, than I had received in the whole of the rest of my life."

In that infinite moment, which I now shared with Trina, it was as if I was falling through the bottom of that pit. The body of the guard, now lifeless, receded into the far distance - dwindling to less than a dot; and I entered a marvellously strange world. What could, in reality, have only been the briefest of moments seemed to last for ever. With Trina, as Trina, I seemed to visit all parts of the world, in all times past and all times to come - as well as the present. A myriad impressions crowded in on me, so that my mind reeled with the impact; even though I was aware that, to protect me from its worst impact, its power was being filtered by Trina. In the midst of all that incredibly compressed experience, there was suddenly nothing; the same empty vacuum, stretching for ever, that I too had experienced. And in that moment I also saw myself at the midsummer ceremony.

"I emerged from that moment a strangely changed being. But, fortunately for my bodily safety, I still reacted automatically. I fled, energised by the remaining shreds of my terror. Climbing over the lifeless body of that loathsome guard, I fled the hut and the village. It was only by pure chance that Jon grasped my ankle as I stumbled over the grid of his own nearby pit; and forced me to release him as well. It was thereafter Jon who led the way. I only followed by means of sheer instinct. I was still lost in that strange place, trying to find my way back; trying to absorb all that had happened. One moment I was waiting to die, the next I was free. But the real enigma was what had happened between. Had I really visited that strange place? Already I was beginning to doubt my own sanity."

The images had stopped with a startling blankness, and the exchanges once more became almost verbal.

"But, over the next weeks, first as I fled through the forest with Jon and then, more sedately, as we both travelled with Isac I came to the inescapable conclusion that it had actually happened; just as I have shown you. I had also found that I was a totally changed person, with incomprehensibly enhanced powers. If I tried hard enough I now could read what Isac was thinking. I knew it was wrong of me. It was an intrusion on his privacy. But I had to know what my true talents might be. I practiced and practiced, until I could read most minds, apart from Jon's, as easily as listening to a normal conversation. But nobody knew."

"Then, when I arrived here, I suddenly discovered that you too possessed the same talent, and I was afraid I would be found out. So I stopped my practices, though I still could not help sensing much of what was going on around me. In particular I was most exposed to your thoughts; simply because you have the clearest thoughts, and anyway I was already growing emotionally close to you."

Again the words began to be accompanied by images; images that were increasingly familiar to me, though subtly distorted by Trina's own, different, viewpoint. Isac seemed to be seen much as the I myself saw him, but he was accompanied by an indescribable feeling, akin to cleanliness; a feeling which I recognised was, indeed, also close to my own summation of the trader's character. Jon, though, was an enigma. He alone was seen totally unnaturally, as a misty figure with a barely visible face; a face that was sometimes there, and sometimes not. It was eerie, and worrying, and it, along with the slightly chilling feeling that accompanied it, also summed up much what I had come to feel of him.

I found her picture of myself very difficult to cope with. I had not thought how old I might seem to someone as young as Trina. In one fell swoop all my romantic illusions were destroyed. As seen through her eyes I was not just old enough to be her father, which might have been accurate; but was old enough to be her grandfather, which was hurtful. I found that overhearing the unflattering conversations of others about oneself was as nothing compared with really seeing oneself through the eyes of another; and particularly through the eyes of someone I would choose to love. If that wasn't enough she, perhaps unwittingly, illustrated her 'eavesdropping' by replaying the scene of myself, and Isac, in bed with Melani. She had seen and felt everything.

It was reassuring, however, to find that Melani had not also seen me as a geriatric, and that her own orgasm was as enjoyable as it had seemed to me at the time. Indeed, it was a fascinating experience to also feel what Melani herself had felt; as I had made love to her. Her feelings were totally different to those I myself felt at orgasm. In her body a totally different set of nerves were being stimulated; something I had never considered before. If anything the feeling was significantly more intense than mine, and certainly far longer lasting. But such considerations were surely very close to voyeurism, and I felt myself blushing; a blush that I knew it was impossible to hide from Trina. I just caught a suppressed giggle from her in return.

Even so, as she continued her story, I was left with the depressing feeling that Trina could never love someone as decrepit as me. "But my talents went even further, as do yours. I found that I too could see into the future. That talent, though, is very like your own; it is very fragmentary. I have tried to develop it, but without great success. I cannot control it. Indeed it controls me. What I see appears to be what the future wants me to see, rather than the other way around."

"So that is me. A total freak, living only partly in the world of humans. It is something I have gradually come to terms with. But I still do not know what to make of it."

The emotions coming to me had suddenly changed to wrenching self-pity; perhaps echoing my own self-pity at the destruction of my romantic illusions. But that was, I realised, terribly unfair of me. I could not wish my own weaknesses on her. It was my right to destroy myself, but I had no right to destroy her too. So, admittedly with considerable difficulty, I concentrated on transmitting happy thoughts at her.

Despite what I had just seen, of how she saw me, I beamed my love at her. In my mind, and hence in hers too, I gently caressed her, I stroked her hair, I kissed her lips, her eyes, her throat. I did all those things which would make her realise just how much I truly loved her. Trina might consider me decrepit, but, I reasoned, no woman can feel unwanted if exposed to such treatment. And I succeeded. She was not revolted by my touch; but I knew that already. And she accepted my love; and the self-pity dissolved.

It did, however, require an immense effort from me, to maintain my self control. I desperately wanted to go on, to make passionate love to her; even if it was only in our minds.

It would have mattered little in physical terms though, since our bodies hung, almost as if suspended by ropes; a full man's length apart. Seen in isolation, without any knowledge of the intense exchange which was taking place on a different plane, an observer would have felt that the bodies looked quite ludicrous hanging there; more like venison hung to improve its flavour than human beings.

Eventually the thought dawned on me that we would also look as odd to anyone else entering the hut. I decided that it was necessary to find a more discrete way of carrying out the process: "Trina, do we really need to hang here in this most peculiar fashion. Now you have convinced me that we can enter each other's minds at will, can we not do it from a less conspicuous position? What would happen if we retired to our separate beds? Could we not continue our 'dialogue' there, with less risk of discovery, and in considerably more comfort?"

In the event I found it strange to set my body in motion again. It was almost as if I had become a stranger to it; almost as if I had forgotten how to make it walk. But I did eventually manage to animate my muscles, and propel my now stiff body across to collapse into my bed; where I was inordinately grateful for the comfort of its softness - and for its reassuring familiarity. I was still having difficulty in coming to terms with my strange new powers.

But that was only my first step. Once in my bed the next move had to be willing myself to re-establish contact, without the benefit of those mesmerising brown eyes. I was preparing for something of a struggle to achieve this, when I suddenly found Trina in bed alongside me; except that she wasn't. She had found her own way into my mind as easily as making the few physical steps to my bed. Over the months that had followed her own initiation she had already mastered the techniques of this strange new art.

For a moment I was totally disoriented again as our two minds merged. Once more I was immersed in all the alien sensations that flowed through her mind, sharing all her memories along with all her feelings and experiences, no matter how small. I started to panic. I was drowning in alien feelings. I was going mad; overcome by the flood of incomprehensible sensations which were beyond my control. Fortunately, in that one confused moment, Trina realised her mistake and rapidly built barriers to contain me to just a part of her mind; where she could carefully control what I was exposed to.

Saved from that metaphysical drowning, and slowly regaining my composure, I quickly realised that my containment in just a portion of her mind was not for any reasons of false modesty. She had already decided to bare her soul to me; in the most literal sense. The walls were, instead, to allow me to be comfortable; to absorb these alien experiences at a pace I could handle.

To try and replace the unsettling intimacy of the occasion, which I found remained despite physically being in separate beds on opposite sides of the hut, I switched the subject to the happenings of the day; which were, in any case, still preying on my mind. "What happened today? Why was there no spirit? What was Jon's role?"

Even so, my embarrassment at this strange situation was growing rapidly, as I began to realise just how much of my intimate self - the secrets I would have shared with no-one - was exposed to her own probings. To my immense relief the answer was immediate; and we moved on to much safer topics with her reply:. "I do not have a definitive answer. I wish I had. But I do have some ideas."

She paused to consider the perplexing problem: "You were too involved to really see all that was happening. As far as I could see, everything went as normal until the mushroom began to take effect. Then, very suddenly, I felt a deadening blanket of darkness surge out of Jon. It wasn't a total blankness. With it there was also a noise akin to a thousand people talking. It was a noise that made it very difficult indeed to think. But somehow I sensed Jon concentrating his mind to produce that image of the golden disk. It was, as you know, a very simple, even crude, device; but it did show that, under the effect of the mushroom, he does have some powers."

Her answer was, at least in part, reassuring to me. It indicated that the spirit had not disappeared; but simply that another phenomenon, originating with Jon, had overpowered it. That was bad enough news, but it held the consolation that we now knew where the problem lay; and it might not after all prove to be an insuperable one. But I still didn't understand what made up the phenomenon: "Do you have any explanation for the mighty powers that Jon displayed?"

"Not really. I have never seen anything exactly like it. But I am certain it was centred on Jon. It certainly took only the briefest of moments to emerge from him, and engulf everything else. But I am sure it did come from him. It was, though, a very peculiar phenomenon. It behaved almost as if it were the reverse of the spirit. The spirit can, perhaps, be likened to a form of light. It gives. The energy flows from it to you. This strange darkness seemed to be exactly the reverse. It absorbed energy, or at least it absorbed spiritual energy. It took energy, all the spiritual energy we were producing, from us to it. On a much, much smaller scale I have occasionally seen something like it happen with a very young baby. If it has for some reason become particularly upset and comfort from its mother is unduly delayed it, too, can sometimes put out such an absorbing, demanding, cry."

At last, it was now my turn to contribute: "It may not be so irrelevant, for Jon is the most powerfully self-centred person I have come across. His egotism is gigantic. In that respect it is, like that of a baby who knows nothing outside of himself. But the baby's demanding egotism is excusable; he will grow out of it. Jon's is just as demanding, if not more so, but it cannot be justified." Even as he was transmitting these bitter thoughts to Trina I regretted them. I knew was getting carried away by my own hurt.

Trina registered my rapidly changing thought just as quickly: "You are indeed right to be contrite about those remarks. You have been badly hurt by Jon, but I don't think he is truly evil. I do not think he realises what he is doing. There is no evidence of malicious intent within that blackness."

I accepted the rebuke, but I could not dismiss the subject. I still urgently needed to understand how dangerous the phenomenon was.

Fortunately, Trina was able to make a reassuring reply : "I don't think the phenomenon was as quite dangerous as you thought. But it came as a shock to all of us, and to you in particular; and that unexpected shock threw us all off balance. Remember, in a normal ceremony we all carefully focus our energies, striving very hard indeed, in order to conjure the spirit. That is a natural part of the ceremony; so much so that you probably no longer notice it; but it is an absolutely essential one. The totally unexpected shock of Jon's intervention, coming as it did at the worst possible moment, simply defocused all that combined effort; indeed it went further and almost seemed to thrive on the confusion. Most people, yourself included, quite naturally stopped to concentrate on what was happening. As a result there was almost no energy at all left to be directed at the spirit. Thus, it is not surprising that it never appeared. It is my belief, anyway, that the spirit lies within you all; it is not a truly external force as you assume. So, when you all were so distracted, you just did not produce the energy it needed. It remained locked up within you. What chance did it have? Jon's power certainly existed; and, perhaps without the control you all learn as you grow up, it seemed to be massively magnified by the mushroom he took. But the main impact of his intervention was shock; and even that was, I am sure, unintentional on his part. You did all the rest of the damage yourselves."

"So what can we do?" I was still desperately determined to find some way out of the mess.

This time Trina's reply was somewhat less reassuring: "If I am right, the phenomenon was almost accidental. Now you recognise the problem, it will never have the same impact again. You will not be thrown by a similar shock; you will easily be able to cope with it next time. But that does not mean its effect was not very damaging indeed. The spirit will, I am sure, return; once you have rested. In the morning things will seem very different, and much better. In the meantime, however, some of the villagers, maybe most, will have considered Jon's message, and seriously; where, otherwise, they would never have given it a second thought. Furthermore, they will have witnessed what Jon has described as the failure of the spirit. Of course, as we now realise, that is not quite true. But it looked remarkably like that at the time; and, where the spirit has always been supposed to be indestructible, that apparent failure was inevitably a severe blow to its image of invincibility. These people may, accordingly, become customers for Jon's glib, but very seductive, ideas; where he is bound to claim superiority, and invincibility, for his own offering. All we can hope to do, to counter this, is to try and make the spirit important to the community again; to make its complex presence as immediately valuable as Jon's simplistic offerings would claim to be."

It was clear to us both that only time would tell whether Jon's well timed challenge would eventually succeed. But a day earlier it would have seemed the height of foolishness to even consider such a thought. The shadows may have receded somewhat, but they remained a persistent threat.

                                                                        ****

Trina was proved right. The next day a shamefaced village returned to normality. And nobody was more shamefaced than me. As I walked around the village I was greeted by groups of villagers, all anxious to apologise for their behaviour. I, in turn, was even more anxious to apologise to them for my own failure. To each group I spelled out the explanation; the one, which Trina had evolved. "It was just the shock of the unusual phenomenon which took our concentration away from the spirit."

Of course, I did not divulge Trina's contribution and neither did I describe Jon's part in the whole affair. Both facts would have prompted far more questions than they answered. I just hoped, fervently, that most of the villagers would accept the affair as an anomaly; one that would not be repeated.

Fortunately, all the villagers responded as if they accepted the explanation. Most of them really did believe that I had fully explained what had happened; with relief that it had been such a trivial problem after all. Just a few hid their feelings of disbelief. It was only a few, I reasoned. But would that few cause problems? They surely would not do so deliberately, but would their misgivings weaken the community?

As for Jon, he behaved as if nothing had happened at all. But I was beginning to realise that the youth lived by a totally different set of rules.

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