The Key to Eve
a fantasy
9
The Tension
PEREGRINE HAD FOLLOWED the annual migration of animals to milder climes all his life. He enjoyed the conversations with happy families, many with children who had never made the trip before and were excited by every new scent along the route. So, he was taken aback by the silence of his journey this year.
No scampering young marmots or herds of deer joined him as he walked, seeking news and entertainment wherever he went.
At one point, however, he encountered a small herd of lummoxen grazing in a prairie well away from the farms.
“Br’er Lummox,” Peri said as he approached. “Good grazing to you.”
“Br’er Talker. Good grazing to you as well.”
“What can you tell me of things in the south?” Peri asked.
“Well, it ain’t good. Me and my herd will stay here for the winter and not go any farther,” said the large beast. He stepped toward Peri and tripped in a gopher hole, falling to one knee. He heaved a big sigh and pulled himself back to his feet. A gopher popped out of the hole and began berating the beast.
“Can’t you watch where you are going?” the gopher asked. “I don’t go sticking my big hoof in your living room.”
“Sorry, Br’er Sysel,” the lummox said. “I was caught up in my conversation with Br’er Talker. Have you met?”
“Oh. Yes, we have. When was it? Last spring when we were moving north,” the gopher said.
“Are you not going south for more warmth this winter?” Peri asked.
“Rather take my chance with the cold than with the hounds,” Br’er Sysel said. We have a nice meadow here and a well-sheltered forest should we need it. The rabbits are over on the sun-side of the meadow. Foxes are in the forest and have agreed not to hunt in the meadow. There are plenty of mice and voles in the forest to keep them fed.”
“Farmer Bellamy came right out here in the meadow and examined our herd,” the lummox added. “I know he wants to trade labor in the spring, but he’s agreed to toss hay out at the edge of the meadow for us this winter.”
“Is Farmer Bellamy a Talker?” Peri asked.
“Not as good as you,” the lummox responded. “He waves his hands a lot and talks in his own talk, but we understand pretty well. I’m afraid old Great Ma Lummox won’t survive the winter, though. She’s already made up her mind to feed the farmer when the cold seeps into her bones.”
“It seems everyone is avoiding going south,” Peri mused.
“On this path there lies a village. Animals are avoiding it by at least a day’s journey to either side. The place is overrun with dogs. They were brought to hunt the cats, but the cats are hiding or gone. So, they hunt anything that moves. And for no reason but to have something to kill. They just leave the dead bodies where they kill them. They eat under the men’s feet. ’Tis a sad time,” said Br’er Sysel.
“I must go see this place and find out what is wrong with them. This is not normal behavior.”
“Watch out for the dire wolves,” the lummox said. “I lost a calf to them this summer. With all the small animals avoiding the town, I’ve heard there is a hunger among them.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Peri said.
He continued on his journey, leaving the odd congregation of animals behind. He stopped to visit with Farmer Bellamy and helped bring in the last of the hay to be stacked in his barn. The farmer’s own herd of cattle were penned nearby and had shelter enough for the winter.
“Yes, well, I don’t mind the animals camping in the meadow out there. Strange when they started showing up. That bull lummox is a sturdy fellow and I’m thinking of setting him onto a couple of my cows. Improve the herd. And I know he’s got at least one old cow who won’t make the winter. I’m not going to leave her carcass to rot in the field,” said the farmer.
“The animals seem reluctant to follow the migratory path south,” Peri ventured.
“I’m not surprised. Tumwater’s gone to hell in a handbasket. Used to be such a nice quiet little town. The old witch there even journeyed as far as my farm when my cattle were struck with a fever a few years ago. But her daughter is an uncommon beauty they say. She had so many suitors the old witch tied a key around a cat’s neck and told the boys if they could capture the key, they’d win the heart and home of the young girl.”
“That seems a strange contest,” Peri said.
“It was all fun and games for a while. The boys of the village laughed and chased after cats. When they caught one, they’d proudly announce they had a pussy but no key. The cats were playful and would tease the boys, letting themselves get caught. Then word spread that the witch’s daughter was not only beautiful, but was rich as well. You can imagine what kind treasure seekers that brought to the town.”
“What would they do if they found the key?” Peri asked.
“Well, according to the agreement, the girl would have to marry him. But there’s no mention of wealth in the witch’s proclamation. Just her heart and her home. The thing is, people are strange. Get one bad apple to start whipping them up and all of a sudden everyone figures it’s okay to do whatever is necessary to win the prize. It wasn’t enough just to capture a cat. No, the immigrants had to eat it, too!”
“And dogs?” Peri asked.
“Dogs follow their masters. For all anyone knows, they might have killed the cat with the key and swallowed that, too.”
Peri helped with the chores, stacking hay, milking cows, and reinforcing the fences. For his labor, he was given food and a bed for the night. Of course, the bed was occupied by the farmer’s daughter.
“Wouldn’t you like to stay and warm my bed for the winter? You are good with the animals and Pa-Pa likes you. Why go south where there lies only trouble. You need no key to have my heart and home.”
“Are you my Eve?” Peri asked.
“I’m Fema. Come to bed and let our bodies get to know each other.”
Now just a few weeks ago, Peri would have considered bedding the farmer’s daughter to be an obligation that he pursued with hope that she would be the one who would satisfy the hunger in his soul. But now, all offers seemed hollow. He knew all too well that after lying with the maiden, she would scarcely remember his name and he would forget hers.
He left the room and made a bed in the hayloft. Early the next morning he was off south again.
The few animals Peri met along the route were not going south, but were fleeing north, willing to risk the colder weather rather than the men and dogs of Tumwater.
“No good there,” said a family of rabbits. “Danger everywhere.”
“Even the trees aren’t safe,” said a squirrel. “The men hunt us for our skins.”
A small herd of red deer moved across his path, finding their way toward another migratory path several days’ journey east.
“What the dogs of the village don’t hunt, the dire wolves do,” said Br’er Buck. “We’ll all be gone if we don’t flee.”
All this news upset and worried Peri. He was near the town when he witnessed a murder.
There was no other word to describe it. A pack of dogs surrounded a tabby cat where it had no place to escape. Peri tried to warn the dogs off, but they would not listen to him. They rushed the cat, sinking bared fangs into her tender skin and shaking her howling body into the air. Once the cat was dead, the dogs left it lying on the ground and trotted proudly back to the town.
Peri rushed to the animal to see if he could help, but there was no life left in the little body.
“I weep that I was not able to stop your torment and death,” Peri said as he tenderly laid the cat in a hole he dug. “I will do my best to put an end to this disgusting behavior. I swear that on your lifeless body. This will end!”
Once the shallow grave was covered, Peri continued into town.
He was not completely a stranger in Tumwater, though he could not remember the last time he’d been there. He thought he’d helped the candlemaker render fat for her candles once long ago. He sought out the shop—or what he remembered as the shop.
It was very different these days. There were still candles on a high shelf, but the shop was taken over by a display of slings and missiles, arrows, knives, and other weapons.
“The times have changed, young Peregrine,” said the candlemaker. “What’s an old woman to do? No one wants more candles than it takes to light their way to bed. They demand more weapons to hunt the cats. Not that anyone has seen a cat in town lo, these past months. But the damage was already done. Once there were no cats to hunt, they began hunting everything else. Nor did they care if the animals belonged to someone. Wiped out old Dremel’s entire drove of pigs. He managed to salt and smoke the meat, and it will hold folks through the winter, but by spring there will be no litters and no new pigs filling the sty.”
“That’s terrible,” Peri said. “How could the people of Tumwater let this happen?”
“It was a surprise,” Ma Candlemaker said. “People have stray thoughts all the time. Some of them violent and uncharitable. But if they’ve been brought up properly, they recognize the absurdity of their thoughts and discard them at once. Then someone who wasn’t brought up decent decides to voice those thoughts. ‘The witch is evil. She caused the drought. She’s to blame for the lack of prey for hunters. It was her cats that caused all the problems.’ All things decent people know aren’t true. At once, a perfectly sensible person most of the time recognizes one of his own stray thoughts having been given voice. And he thinks, I wasn’t so wrong after all! And he adds his voice saying, ‘I always thought she was strange. Witches and common people don’t mix.’ Then there is another who adds his stray thoughts to the mix. ‘Cats bring disease.’ And people begin to think cats are enemies and need to be eradicated. It no longer has anything to do with the witch’s daughter. No one’s seen her in months.”
Peri was troubled. He went back into the woods to sleep for the night, rather than stay in the unpredictable town.
